Shoot me in the face

Things That Get You Through The Day

2011-09-23T09:07:00.002-07:00

I don't have a great story for this post, but I do want to push my previous post off the front page because even though it's been almost 10 years, that is still horribly embarrassing. Also, from her I comment, I gather my mother is so ashamed of me that she regrets my entire existence. My wife also endlessly makes fun of my for the box of rocks, but I wouldn't have told the story if I wasn't prepared for other people to make the same judgement about me that I have kept with me for almost a decade (what an idiot).

Moving on...

Not working continues to be an amazing experience. Evelyn is doing great and Abe is just as awesome as ever. Pia and Evelyn may go to church on Sunday, but that completely depends on how Pia feels. It's fun to show off something that you have been working on for so long. Showing off a new baby is a big ego booster because some people LOVE babies and no matter how ugly, slow, or disfigured your kids are, they will say they are the most beautiful baby they have ever seen. Now, I don't need someone else's judgments to make me feel good about my new child, but having my ego stroked never hurt anyone.

I also like passing Evelyn around because it seems to make people genuinely happy. For many people, holding a baby can just put them in a better place. It reminds them of the love they have for their own kids or happier times or something. My mom almost starts crying every time she holds Evelyn, which makes us want to bring her over to my parent's house all the time because of how happy it makes my mom.

I would be lying if I said that having Evelyn lay on my chest as Hercules (the dog) laid on legs and Abe hugged my arm, didn't make me feel very good.

The Second Most Embarrassing Story

2011-09-20T10:55:00.004-07:00

The most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me is a story for another time, but this one happened almost a decade ago, so I figure my NDA (non disclosure agreement) with my pride is about up.

My buddy and I were headed inside a local supermarket when a couple of gentlemen called us over to their car. One of the gentlemen sat in the passenger side of their Lincoln Towncar while the one that called us over stood near the trunk. "Hey, you guys want a computer?" he asked? The gentlemen in front seat opened a box to reveal a laptop.

While some people may have been caught off guard or weary of this sort of parking lot commerce, my first reaction was, "how much?" They wanted several hundred dollars and assured us, "this is top of the line s***." I could see that they knew their stuff, but several hundred dollars was more than I was willing to spend on this computer of questionable origins.

I haggled the gentlemen down to 100.00 and I proudly rushed into the store to withdraw the necessary funds for my new laptop. I withdrew my funds and patiently waited for my friend to do the same, but as he put in his PIN he changed his mind and decided that he really didn't need a laptop. He was being dumb, because a 100.00 laptop does not come into your local shopping market parking lot every day. This was a deal of a lifetime and no one would deter me.

I almost ran back the Lincoln yelling, "shut up and take my money." I gave the gentlemen my wad of 20s, they opened the trunk full of laptop boxes and handed me one.

Knowing the legally questionable nature of this transaction, I tucked the box and quickly scurried off to my friend's car.

I put the box on my lap, musing over the great deal I had just made on this laptop and looking at the specs on the box. We got about 2 miles away from the supermarket when it hit me.

I had just bought a 100.00 box of rocks.

There was no laptop in this box in my lap, but rather it was just full of weighty, worthless trash. I shared my revelation with my friend who insisted that I open it immediately. I complied with his request and was surprised to find that there were not rocks, but I was not surprised to find that the box was completely filled with newspapers. I insisted that my friend pull over to I could throw away my new laptop. When he finally stopped laughing he complied and I forced him to promise me that he would never tell anyone about what had just occurred. I kept my shame in silence as well until now, not even my wife knows this story, so there you go.

I'm a total moron.

PATERNITY LEAVE

2011-09-19T13:50:00.002-07:00

The best part about having a baby has got to be the not having to work part. My mother in law will be leaving us shortly which means that I will be taking care of Pia and the kids for a week or so. I know that parenting is a harder job than the one I do for money, but I like my kids. I don't like the people I talk to on the phone and even though I don't have to change their diapers, I would rather change feces filled diapers of my kids than have to sell insurance to the degenerates that I have to talk to on a daily basis. Even now, the best part of writing this post is that Evelyn is on my chest sleeping away.

I don't think anyone expected me to be the kind of father that I am (a good one I think), but these little things really grow on you. Like a disease that renders you unable to concentrate on anything else.

Anyway, I am sure all of this fluffy crap will stop shortly and I will get back to my regular cynicism, but I guess you can enjoy my glass half full attitude for a few more days.

I Have Kids

2011-09-18T14:09:00.003-07:00

In writing this post I have been thinking of the phrase. "Life is in the details." I looked online to see if that was some great Mark Twain or Abraham Lincoln quote, but unfortunately not; it's just something a bunch of bloggers thought was philosophical sounding enough to use as the title for their blogs.

I am currently relishing the idea that I know have kids. When talking about my children I used to say things like, "I am going to take the boy the the museum," or "I can't believe this jerk-face is still crying." Now I get to say things like, "I am going to put my kids to bed," or "I can't believe these jerk-faces are still crying."

While I know that a family comes in many different shapes and sizes having parents and children somehow (as wrong as it is) seems more legitimate. Pia and I were a family before we had kids; we were a family when Abe joined us and now that Evelyn is here we continue being a family.

I guess in the most forward and incorrect way of thinking. We are no longer a couple w/ a child. One can be a fluke, but two requires planning.

No matter how wrong it may be, it's fun to say kids (it also makes me seem older I guess).

Sorry for the random banter on my musings, but why else are you reading this garbage? Oh yeah...pictures of MY KIDS. Well, here you go.

Home From the Hospital

2011-09-10T19:21:00.001-07:00

Just a quick note that all is well and that we are finally home from the hospital, more pictures to come.

The Requisite Pictures

2011-09-09T21:28:00.001-07:00

Happy Days After a Long Buzz Kill

2011-09-09T19:33:00.003-07:00

I will admit that missing that writing job opportunity and a new found addiction to Reddit has kept me away from writing longer than I would have liked, which is a bummer.Happy Days are here again.

Evelyn Bea Lewis joined us in the land of post uterian (spell check wants to say that's not a word, but nuts to spell check) existence. She was born Thursday Sept 8th at 10:29am. She is 20in long weighing a solid 7lbs 12ounces.

Both mother and daughter are doing fine and still recovering at the hospital. She is the spitting image or Abe when he was born (above the belt-line at least), so it could have gone worse. Pia should be home from the hospital on Sunday.

Thank you to all of those who came by, helped us in the pregnancy or just thought about us from time to time. Your thoughts, prayers and hours of service are greatly appreciated and we look forward to returning the favor.

An Interesting Mix of Relief and Fury

2011-08-03T01:05:00.002-07:00

This will be a post about work so read it now because when I am struck with better judgement like a lightning bolt the post will be deleted in fear that some piece of published truth might get me in trouble with those who prefer to bury their head in the sand.

I started working from home about a year ago and part of that deal was that I had to work nights for my first year at home. I gladly took the position not knowing the extent of the challenges that I would face. I work in sales and subsequently have a goal that I must meet to make any real money. Without going into too much detail, suffice it is to say that I struggled quite a bit over the last year. I presented ideas and arguments accompanied with spreadsheets to management in attempt to lower goal for myself and my fellow night time workers, but they refused to recognize that work at night was any different than work during the day.

I started an earlier shift this week and have immediately started doing significantly better. Doing well feels good, but on the flip side, it's incredibly upsetting that all of my arguments are immediately validated and still ignored. I am no longer the victim of working nights, but it doesn't make me feel better about the way the company handled or is handling the situation. I know that I should feel relieved that I am no longer suffering (and I am relieved believe me, my wife says that she hasn't seen me this happy in a long time), but doing well actually upsets me because the rift between days and nights is so clear that it's obvious that the management in my company must have seen it and just said about people working nights, "screw 'em."

The worst part of this whole thing is because I was so vocal about the large chasm in between days and nights and did so poorly when working nights, and am now doing so well working days, I will be told that it's just psychological. Now that I believe I will succeed, I will.

Let me tell you a secret Mr. Manager. My psyche was not making 16 year olds with 3 DUIs call in from New Jersey at 1:00am to laugh at me when I give them a $10,000.00/year rate for liability only on their 1990 Chevy Cavalier, but every time you invalidate my legitimate objections it does help me realize how completely out of touch you are and stain every piece of advice you may offer, no matter how helpful.

But what do I know, my thoughts and actions are so easily influenced that I could never develop my own opinions or ideas.

(Sorry for the Mr. Angry McAngerson post today, I promise to be funnier tomorrow, I just need to have someone tell me so.

Vacation And Continued Bed Rest

2011-07-15T00:26:00.003-07:00

Next week I will be on Vacation and man do I need it. I spend more time in front of a screen than any reasonable human being should. In between writing and work and Netflix to go to bed, chances are if I am not in front of a screen, I am playing with blocks with the man-child.

I am going to go screenless this vacation, bring a book and see if I am still literate. No TV, no phone games, and no computer (sounds boring, but my poor mind and eyes deserve it.) So enjoy the week without me because I know I will.

Although that reminds me, I need to charge the old MP3 player because while going without screens won't be too horrible, if I have to drive without music I am liable to throw the car and everyone in it off an embankment. (That might have been a bit harsh, I will be super bored and/or tired.)

I recently changed my desktop picture on my computer. I had a great picture of Abe smiling and I switched it for a Banksy painting.

I don't like feeling guilty about it, but is there some parental law that states that I must have a picture of my kids on the desktop of my computer? It would certainly seem so as it is the social norm, but no there is no law (probably is one in Alabama). So I changed it, and I will change it again, and again and again when I see awesome art or pictures and if one of those pictures happens to be of my child/children then so be it. I apparently couldn't get away from a family related background though. Even anarchists have moms that love them.

A Quick Question

2011-07-14T00:04:00.002-07:00

Does anyone else flush the toilet before they get done peeing to see if they can time it just right so that you finish up as everything gets flushed?

If not, give it a shot. Take it from a pro.

I am not sure whether to apologize for the brevity or the topic, but you are welcome for not having a picture with this post.

This May Be Why I Take Breaks

2011-07-13T00:48:00.002-07:00

I have had a hard time being consistent in writing in the blog, and that may be because I need a month or two to un-repress some memories to share with you.

The wife is on bed rest, and not the kind of bed rest that means that she can go out and do what she wants, just take it a little bit easier. She is on, get your butt back to bed sort of bed rest.

We are getting immense support from the ward and there is not enough that can be said to adequately express our gratitude to my mom who is making us dinners and to our ward that is baby-sitting Abraham for a few hours each day. Abe doesn't do great with other people. He is used to having one or both of his parents around all the time, so when we try to leave him at my parents' house for example, he flips the crap out. He eventually accepts that we are gone, but needs to be entertained to keep his mind off his missing parents.

The babysitter today has two or three daughters who kept him occupied. Abe seems to really like to be with other kids even if he doesn't play with them directly. When the babysitter said he did well, I incredulously asked, "really?" Don't get me wrong, I am thrilled, just surprised.

Good job buddy.

Funny Stuff

2011-07-10T23:28:00.005-07:00

I thought I would share a couple of the funny things I have come across this week. The wife has had a rough couple of days. Her brother was here which means that she exerted a bit more energy than a 7-month pregnant should; so she is a bit cramped up. We filled her up with calcium supplements and will be getting a massage which hopefully help her out, but it doesn't do us any good to dwell on discomfort.

Let's get on with the funny.

Think, Think, Don't Speak

2011-07-09T22:59:00.005-07:00

I will get back to lackluster insights and embarrassing stories from my youth, but my mind has been occupied with babies recently. I definitely have a father's eye now. I think babies are cute, that is unless they are ugly and I would even tell their parents that I think they are cute, but I have one large problem. About three months ago I decided I wasn't going to shave or get my hair cut until Evelyn joins us in the land outside the womb. Don't ask my why, I just thought it would be funny to have the first picture with Evelyn be insane.

I think that people need to be self aware when they make certain comments. A 300lb man should not interject in a conversation about dieting, unless he used to be 500lbs... in that case, congratulations buddy, you're doing great. A white guy shouldn't talk to his black friends about being the victim of prejudice. For me, a guy that hasn't shaved, had his hair cut, or kept good grooming habits for the last several months shouldn't comment on how cute your baby is. If a guy that looked like me, came up to my son and commented on his appearance, I would think that he wanted to eat him (on a completely unrelated side note, that baby in the super market looked delicious).

(This is not me by the way, but how would you like this creepy mess to tell you your baby is cute?)

Sometimes people want to open their mouths without thinking, but you don't want to be the cop that shoots himself talking about gun safety.

Nothing To Write, So Here's A Video

2011-07-08T01:28:00.003-07:00

This is one of my favorite videos of Hercules with a funny surprise.

I don't know that there is any logical reason that this video cracks me up so much, but when Abe jumps in to get his second in front of the camera I just can't help myself.

T-Minues 4 Weeks and Counting

2011-07-07T00:28:00.002-07:00

My wife went to the doctor (you know... the baby one) for her now weekly checkup and it turns out the Evelyn is getting ready to go and probably won't be in there for more than another 4 weeks or so. I will spare you the gory details but basically what happened is the doctor stuck her arm in Pia's (oh man, my mom reads this.... uh) fun palace?... no that's probably too obscene, uh...baby void, yeah that's perfect. Anyway, she was fishing around in her baby void and felt the baby's head which I guess means that she's all ready to dive head first into this mess of a life. (Good luck sweety.)

I am pretty excited, and not just because I am taking a week off for paternity leave. I can, but for dramatic purposes will say I can't wait to see her. Still no middle name set in stone, so this is your last chance to throw your suggestion out there.

In non baby news... I've got nothing.

Have a great night.

A Day Late, But About Time

2011-07-04T13:49:00.004-07:00

Happy 5th of July everybody.

While I was not writing Pia became a citizen of the United States of America. So now we can only judge her based on skin color and heritage, not nationality. Oh well, 2 out of 3 isn't so bad. Congratulations, now let's go sign you up for some social services!

Honey, can I take off my shoes?

2011-07-04T12:33:00.003-07:00

That question can be interpreted, "can I please be done for the day?"

We have a water cooler that uses 5 gallon containers which need to be filled up once a week or so. When I have to get water the process is as follows:

collect jugs

find the lids

put the jugs in the car

drive a mile to the water store

fill up the jugs

carry the full jugs one at a time to my car

drive home

carry the jugs one at a time in the house

put one of the jugs in the water cooler (which means that I am going to get wet to some degree.

You know what the worst part of that whole process is? Even before the first step, it's putting on my shoes. I shower and get dressed in the beginning of my day like everyone else, but whether I am leaving the house immediately or not, I put on my shoes. My shoes stay on until the end of my day. Removing my shoes is less an act of comfort than an outward sign that I am done for the day. Sometimes my shoes don't come off until bedtime, but sometimes at noon I will ask my wife, "honey, can I take off my shoes?" and that is me asking permission to spend the rest of the day in the house.

Of course, putting on the shoes is not really a problem, but it's the step I hate the most because it's starting an errand on a day I had already promised to a mixture of the couch and the bed.

Where did you come from?

2011-07-02T11:56:00.006-07:00

I hadn't looked at "Shoot me in the Face" for a while, but a writing job has presented itself and I want that job more than Headline News wants the Casey Anthony case to go on forever. Seeing the job posting made me realize that it's not so much that job that I want (holy crap do I want that job), but I want to write.

I used to be a regular at an open mic in Mesa at which I performed my satirical form of yelled word (spoken word doesn't really do it justice as I was bereft of a beret and bongo drum). The host of said open mic and I would talk from time to time and when I told him I was getting married he warned me to not forget my writing and that when he started a family that his writing stopped altogether and only came back years later.

I did pretty well after being married, but when Abraham came to us my writing all but stopped. It was hard to find a quiet time when I wasn't completely exhausted in which I could put pen to paper. I also used to just pickup my notebook and drive until I found a good place to write. For me, writing is a dedicated process and it's difficult, if not impossible to get back on my jumbled curvy line of logic if I am distracted or torn away for too long.

I have discussed this with the wife and we agree that I should be writing more and she will help me in finding dedicated time in which I can put in headphones and concentrate. That being said, I renewed my Pandora subscription. Music has always helped me write. Something about the rhythm, if I hear a good song, my keystrokes align themselves with the beat and words poor out like the insane blabberings of a sidewalk hobo. On a side note, Tom Petty's Wildflowers is the best album I have found to have on while writing (I wish I knew why, but give it a shot).

So here is to you, the 7 people following this blog that magically appeared, my new initiative to write. While I hope you enjoy it, let's be honest, this is for me; so if you don't like it you can always go here.

The Learning Days

2011-06-30T16:56:00.005-07:00

Abe has learned a lot recently:

He learned how to take his own picture for his new Facebook page. Drool is the equivalent of a rock hard six-pack on Baby Facebook. (Drives the ladies crazy).

We have sufficiently trained our dog to know that Abe can do whatever he wants and he has to just take it. As proof, here is Abe doing curls with Hercules (the most ironic name for a 5lbs poodle mix ever).

We took Abe to Disneyland recently and while he didn't scream with glee, this was his face the majority of the time. We are pretty sure he loved it.

Finally, we taught him how to shoot a gun. Thataboy.

Oh Shame, there you are.

2011-06-29T23:54:00.005-07:00

One of my many social quirks is that I have an overwhelming sense of shame or more specifically embarrassment. If someone says something for which they should be embarrassed I take it upon myself to fill myself with their missing shame. Growing up, I couldn't watch The Wonder Years, because it portrayed Kevin growing up and acting like a child which can be pretty embarrassing. Scenes in between Kevin and Winnie were the worst. The muscles in my extremities would start to suffer from RLS (restless leg syndrome) and I needed to get up and walk it off before I could come back.

I feel the same way in church when some people go off their given topics into personal stories that are either too personal or have little to no relevance to the topic at hand. It is common in some churches to hear conversion stories about how someone was leading a terrible life and then they found God and are now saved and condemn their former life. They always spend the bulk of the time in their story on what they were doing. They were snorting lines of coke off an underage prostitute while simultaneously running guns for a Colombian cartel which led them to beating their wife and screaming at their children. Then they say they found God and condemn all the awesome stuff they just finished describing in perfect detail.

Mormons are a little different in that we aren't encouraged to share past transgressions because once you have repented of those things and changed your life, you really shouldn't dwell on them, and let's be honest, it doesn't do any good to share them other than to let people know that you were a complete deviant. Not that everyone thinks everyone else is perfect or that that is supposed to be the perception; we just believe that your mistakes are in between you and God.

So when someone at church decides to do that, my natural reaction is to feel embarrassed for them. I put my head in between my knees and rock back and forth until my wife taps me on the back and tells me it's over.

My overwhelming shared embarrassment coupled with my complete inability to hide my emotions compliment each other well. When someone says something incredibly stupid and their audience says, "oh that's nice," I can't help but grimace and groan. While my social quirk certainly makes me uncomfortable, maybe it should be more widespread. Would people think about what they say if everyone gave their honest reaction to their quick to speak, slow to think comments? If everyone stopped placating those that shared their most private stories (for which they should be ashamed) would they stop telling them? Well, here is to hoping so.

One or the Other

2011-03-31T21:56:00.003-07:00

It is important in child rearing that you get to know your child quickly so you can pigeon hole your child into your impossible expectations as early as possible. Is your child smart or stupid, thin or fat, attractive or has the appearance of a watermelon after having been attacked by birds? I would like to know if my son is left-handed or right-handed, but all he gives me is this.

Son, you aren't helping.

Another embarrassing story from the childhood

2010-12-09T20:37:00.005-07:00

I grew up in a funny family, not funny like we kept jars of body parts in the basement, but legitimately humorous. When we get together, everyone is either talking about how much they hate certain sports teams and players or we are laughing at something that one of us said. The kind of humor that prevails in my family is the witty retort, and story telling. (and my niece tells a pretty mean knock knock joke) My family has been funny since I can remember which is where my story comes in. A funny joke is something that you can look up on the internet (why doesn't Smokey the Bear have any children?... Every time his wife gets hot he beats her with a shovel.), but that's a funny joke; it doesn't necessarily mean that the person that told it is funny. Being able to tell a story and especially a funny one, is a skill that takes years to craft and that some people never obtain (my dad always sidetracks for pointless details and never gets to the point fast enough(which is coincidentally, or genetically what I am doing now with parenthesis). The point is, it takes a lot of stories and punchlines with long pauses of confused and awkward silence that follow, until someone can really hone their craft. This is where my story begins.

I was in sixth grade in Riverton, WY and coming from a funny family, I am sure that I thought I was God's gift to comedy. In science class we were studying topography and we were making maps from markers and pieces of that long paper that comes off a roller like fabric at a JoAnn's. In my witty wisdom, I decided that I would make my map hilarious by making my land mass in the shape of a person and then naming all of the parts of the map zany names like "Stench Bay" for the body of water occupying the armpit and Schnoz peak for the mountain that constituted the nose. Let's face it people, sixth grade humor doesn't get any better than that. I was so proud of myself that I showed everyone in the class how incredibly hilarious I could be with names like The Great Groin Sea and The Chesty Mcforest Forest. (in retrospect, the chest should have been the Tetons, but I was 11, leave me alone.) While this may be all well and good for the kids in the class the embarrassment that I feel when I think about this comes when I remember the teacher's aid. Each semester a graduate student would volunteer as a teacher's aid to get experience in the classroom (and prepare them for the incredible world of making 20k/year). I must have gone over every pun filled crevice of that man map looking for laughs from that poor aid. I grind my teeth when I think about the effort that she must have had to rummage up to feign even a morsel of interest in the ridiculously asinine attempt at hilarity that was my map. I imagine myself looking up at her after I read off each area looking for a laugh, or even a smirk and as her eyes whipped back to me, realizing that I was now looking at her and not my map, she would say, "well... that's very... imaginative?" So I guess what I am saying is that if a kid tells you a joke or shows you something they think is just the funniest thing in the world, don't placate them. You tell them how stupid and unfunny their joke really is, so they don't look back a decade later and realize how uninterested you really must have been and how hard it must have been for Ms. Stenders to pretend that she gave a crap about your map. Do you hear me Ms. Stenders?! Why did you lie to me? You dishonest, placating piece of *clears throat*.
Looking back at it, I feel silly for being embarrassed at something so harmless, but I also cringe that someone had to tolerate something that I thought was hysterical that was obviously so devoid of humor it would make a clown cry. Thus are the growing pains of someone who wants to be funny I guess.
*Crickets*

Welcome home Hercules

2010-11-16T16:51:00.002-07:00

Say hello to our new dog:
I named Abraham, so it was only fair that Pia should name the dog. His name is Hercules (Abe, you are welcome for not letting your mother name you.) and he is fully grown. He is a little bummed because he can't have babies anymore (as of today) but we are excited to have him. On a side note, i need a haircut.

Veteran's Day extravaganza

2010-11-11T19:40:00.004-07:00

So did you do anything for Veteran's Day 2010? Yeah, me either. I have a buddy whose wife is a veteran. He made her some brownies and if there is a great way to honor our noble veterans I would say baked goods is definitely on the short list. I am mainly writing this to get some more pictures of Abe up, because let's be honest, that's why you are here and they have been a long time coming.

The newest old post

2010-11-08T13:24:00.003-07:00

Just a note. That last post that says it was in April, the second half is from today, so enjoy.

The most embarrassing thing to happen to a random person at my door and other stuff that happened today

2010-04-28T20:37:00.004-07:00

I will make this short and probably add onto it later, but I have been getting crap from people about not writing (or posting pictures of the child) so I wanted to give a quick update. I have now read 2 articles at www.azcentral.com about people posting ads on www.craigslist.com for children and getting into trouble. If you remember back to my Christmas post for 2009 you will see that I did it, but mine was not so blatant as to lead people to believe that I was actually selling a child, but rather it was real satire. In retrospect, I guess www.craigslist.com is not the place for satire, but I still thought it was funny and anyone that didn't get the joke should be arrested, not the writer.

The problem with these ads is they are too believable, people are talking about a "real child." They are trying to sell a child as a joke. The joke of my post was selling a child as a car. It's a subtle but important difference and I defend it.

(about 6 months later)
Several months ago my doorbell rang. I wasn't expecting anyone and it wasn't Halloween so I was stumped. I opened the door to a handsome teenage boy with flowers in his hand. He was about sixteen and I blurted out the first thought that came to my mind, "Hello?" He asked if Jessica was there and as we both realized what had happened I am sure both of our hearts sank a little. I told him that there was no Jessica that lived here and as he verified the address from a torn piece of paper I wanted to invite him in and tell him that Jessica is just some dumb chick who didn't deserve him anyway. I confirmed again that he had the right address but the wrong house. He stood there for a moment (I am sure, deciding whether to be sad or mad) before about facing and sulking away, letting the bouquet drag like a caveman's club. I was tempted to invite the kid in to play some violent video games or take him to lunch or something because I felt so bad for him, but I let him walk off and thought, "hey I should share this with everyone I know on my blog."
Here's to you, dude who was given the wrong address by a heartless tramp and deserves way better. I hope you find the house you are looking for.

Things that crawl: Spiders, pubbers, and my child

2010-03-09T12:45:00.002-07:00

Here is the proof:

Okay, I admit it.....he's not great at it, but by the time anyone reads this he will already be crawling up to put his finger in outlets and finding the knife drawer.

Fraud and how to enjoy it

2010-02-17T10:40:00.003-07:00

My work e-mail has become a lot less secure over the last few months. For some reason I get a lot more junk and recently it would appear that one of my customers saved me as a contact and then got their e-mail hacked because I have been receiving a lot of fraud fishing e-mails. One such e-mail I received was from a man named Kay who reported that he had been mugged and was stranded in the UK with no way to get home. He needed 2900.00 and would pay me back as soon as he got home. I had no doubt it was fraud from the terrible grammar to the fact that....well.... a random dude was asking me for money (that's normally a dead giveaway). I got the e-mail and thought to myself, "okay, I'll play." My intent was to e-mail him as many times as possible with arbitrary favors and questions until he eventually gave up. He hasn't written back in two days so it would appear that he had put up the white flag. Here are the e-mails in order:

From: kayf2213@aol.com [mailto:kayf2213@aol.com]
Sent: Friday, February 12, 2010 9:23 PM
To: bkoline02@hotmail.com
Subject: i need your assistance urgently!!!

Hi,
I’m currently in the United Kingdom attending an unexpected program.
And I am having a little problem.
I was mugged on my way back to the hotel after a session I attended and
Lost all the money and valuables I had with me.
Right now, my passport and other personal belongings are held by the hotel management,
Till I make payment for my accommodation and other expenses.
I will like you to kindly assist me with a loan of £1,700 pounds ($2,900) to sort my hotel bills out,
And to get myself back home.
I will really appreciate whatever you can assist me with, and promise to
Refund the money as soon as I get back.
Please let me know if you can be of any help, and I will really appreciate it if you can
Assist me immediately, because I need to get back home as soon as possible,
I will not like to spend another day here.
Regards

Kay

My first response:

Kay,

That’s terrible….Please let me help you. How can I get you all the money you need?

His response:

Thank you so much, I am glad to hear from you.I feel very depressed at the moment.
I never thought i would find myself in such a situation.
I would have love to call but i've got no access to a phone and yet a limited access to the internet
I feel so embarrassed asking you for money as i know you have personal needs as well, but i promise to refund the money
as soon as i get home.
You can assist me with funds through western union money Transfer, sent to me in my name and i should be able to sort my self out.

Kayla Falgout
BRITANNIA HOTEL MANCHESTER
Portland Street,
Manchester,
M1 3LA

Please send me the Transfer details including the Money Transfer Confirmation Number as soon as you get it done.

Thank you so much

Kay

My response:

Can I send you more? I have 10,000.00 that I have been saving for the victims of the earthquake in Haiti, but I really sympathize with your situation and think the money would help you a lot more. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you. You are stranded without anything or anyone to help you.

Please let me know if I can send you more money.

I won’t be at this e-mail address anymore, please send the information to my personal e-mail halfcrap@hotmail.com.

Here is to wishing you the best

His response:

no thank you. i just need $2,900 and if you cant help, just let me know.

regs

Kay

My response:

Sorry I wasn’t here this weekend. I hope everything was okay with you, I am so sorry if my delay made your weekend too hard. I hope to get you home as soon as possible. Do you have a family? I have been married for 10 years and have 4 kids. I would die if I were stranded without a way to get a hold of them. Do you have any kids?

This weekend, while waiting for your response (you really should have used that e-mail that I gave you so I could have given you the money faster) I tried looking for a Western Union and didn’t see any. Do you know where a Western Union is in Riverside CA? I hope to get you the money you need ASAP.

It ends there, but man what a ride. I don't if he caught on or just got sick of me, but believe me, I could have gone on forever. If he had actually told me where a Western Union was in Riverside, I would have said that I saw a Moneygram the other day and if that would be okay.

I will talk more about this later, but this post is long enough.

Dream vs reality

2010-02-17T10:26:00.003-07:00

It was 3:am and I was in bed. Abe was next to me on the outside of the bed because he had just been fed or was being bad or something. In his sleep he rolled over and fell off the bed. In one lightning fast motion I rolled over and managed to get my hand under his chest before he hit the floor, and will one hand I lifted him back from the brink of brain damage back on the bed, and then Pia screamed and I woke up.
What happened?
Abe was asleep in his room and I had just snatched Pia's face (which I was not saving from falling off the bed as luck would have it) and proceeded to pull her head with the same force that I would have used to hoist a 20 pound child.
Needless to say, Pia was not happy.
In a half trembling, half furious voice, she said, "What are you doing?" I explained as best I could for a person just waking up and realizing what was going on, but luckily no real damage was done.

News, surprises and bets

2010-02-10T12:31:00.001-07:00

I got my braces off today, but I haven't told Pia, so I am currently taking bets on how long it will take her to notice. The over/under is at 1 day. I bet it will be 3 days. (Saturday). Alright, off to work, I will have a larger post soon.

Sledding

2010-01-31T20:30:00.005-07:00

We took to the car this weekend and headed north. We went to go play in the snow for the first time in Pia's life...... yes, not my 6 month old son, but my 26 year old wife is the one that has never been in snow. We went sledding just outside of Flagstaff. The trip did make me want to go skiing, but I guess that is another trip.
We did get to eat at my favorite pizza place in Arizona (Roma Pizza). It didn't taste as good as it does after a long day of skiing, but it wasn't bad either. Abe did better than we could have ever hoped. He slept most of the way there and back and was only starting to get tired of being in the chair for the last half hour. Here are the pictures and a video.
There was another video, but Pia had a hard time shooting it because she had to close her eyes when I was sledding with Abe.

Abe sits up....and then gets down

2010-01-26T16:25:00.006-07:00

Abe can now sit up all by himself: Which makes him very happy:So he celebrates:

A guilt free lunch

2010-01-26T09:34:00.002-07:00

Yesterday I scoured through my mother's fast food coupons that she keeps at her desk at work and decided that a buy one get one free six inch sub from subway would be the way to go for lunch. I headed to the local subway and ordered one spicy Italian sub and one Subway club. On my way out I was solicited by a homeless lady who was pushing her shopping cart (overflowing with boxes). She asked me for change and I said that I didn't have any and moved on to my car.
I will take a second here and just say that the advent of debit cards must be the bane of the existence of any beggar, because I, like many I know, never have cash on me and therefore would never have change.
Anyway, back to the story at hand. I was headed to my car when I distinctly felt, "you don't have any change, but you do have another sandwich." I continued to my car, but was thinking that maybe this was the reason that I had got the coupon and the reason I had 2 sandwiches as opposed to just one foot long. I thought that there was no way that I would not feel absolutely terrible if I didn't go give the beggar one of my sandwiches.
I spun around and walked up to the beggar and offered her my extra sandwich............... and she declined.
There were a couple of things I got from this:
1. How bad is Subway if a homeless person turns down their food?
2. What would the money have been used for?
3. I didn't give up a sandwich but I know that if I didn't offer, it would have been the most bitter meal I have ever had.
I will not by so cheesy as to have a moral to the story, but something interesting (for me at least) that I thought I would share with you.

B-Abraham Pictures.....again

2010-01-14T18:10:00.007-07:00

I am doing my best to walk a fine line in between telling embarrassing stories from my childhood and showing off my own child. I still want to maintain this blog as what it was, but I also use it as an avenue to allow family to keep up with the growing man-child oftentimes called Abraham. That being said, enjoy the stories of childhood trouble below and some pictures of Baberowham. That's my dad holding Abe on Christmas. My mom made the awesome snowman hat.
We are starting to feed the boy and this was our first attempt. He seemed to like the rice cereal, but his face loved it.
We feed him and then it either goes through the system and comes out the other end, or it is produced as saliva and ends up on his shirt. Look at all that slobber! He didn't spit up, that is just Abe drool.
We read to Abe, but when I read to him a few nights ago, he wrestled the book out of my hands and did this.

One thing I noticed is that Abe doesn't smile much for the camera (at least in these picutes) he is a pretty happy baby, but when the camera shows up in front of my wife's face, he just becomes glazed over with wonderment apparently (or so his face would indicate).

Stories from the principal's office

2010-01-13T18:33:00.003-07:00

I wasn't a bad kid, (at least I don't think so. One would really have to ask my mom.) but I did get sent to the principal's office a couple of times in my 13 short years of graded school. I never dealt with getting in trouble well as a kid and when faced with the shame of getting in trouble or disappointing my parents I would always burst into tears, which made for an even more humiliating experience. To be honest, even now, if I disappointed my parents I would still have a hard time holding back the tears (even the idea of it now is filling my tear ducts.....weird).

The first time I went to the principal's office was when I was in kindergarten (yes, I started early). Schools in Arizona are built a lot like colleges in that difference departments have different buildings (trailers) and school grounds look more like a campus, but in Oregon and WY, schools are built in one big building and the school's doors would only open 15 minutes before the first class of the day, which means that there would be a group of students (whether dropped off by an early bus or parent, or just early in general) waiting outside for the janitor to unlock the doors. I was sent off early to school by my mom with my sack lunch in hand. I remember specifically that I had an apple in my lunch that day. The school that I was attending was k-6 and I remember a fifth grader was making fun of me for something. I don't remember what he was making fun of me about, but what a piece of crap, making fun of a five year old (that seems way crueler to me now as an adult than it did at the time). I did what any self respecting kid would do; I took my sack lunch and jumped as high as I could, swinging that paper bag in a windmill around my back to conk that evil fifth grader right on the head. The bag broke and my lunch went flying. The sandwich and chips were saved because of the sandwich bags that protected them, but the apple was ruined as it smashed against the cold cement. The fifth grader laughed as I collected my scattered meal. A few minutes later the doors to the school were opened. As I was walking past the administrative area which housed the principal's office I was stopped and instructed to go to the principal's office. I don't recall much of the conversation that ensued, but I do remember I was in tears the entire time. In his closing remarks, the principal asked me if I was okay, and in between sobs I tried my best at 5 year old humor and said that I was fine, but I didn't think there was any helping my apple.

The second time I was sent to the principal's office was in WY where it can get to be a little cold every once in a while. In the sixth grade I was at school early again waiting with some friends for the locks to be unhitched and the students be allowed to start their day. Much to our surprise we found that one of the doors had been left unlocked so we slipped inside to escape the cold (and because it was cool to sneak into the school). We found a bathroom on the third floor to hide in until school started, but were apparently a little too loud, because within a few minutes a teacher ordered us to leave the bathroom and marched us straight to the principal's office. Once again, I don't remember what the principal said, but it was short and no punishment was doled out, because he must have understood that we were just escaping the cold.

In the 7th grade in AZ, I went to a public charter school (which I only attended for 6 months and hated for every minute) at which I was sent to the principal's office for not doing my homework in math. (I hate math class).

I have often thought about the first time and laughed. It is one of my clearest childhood memories which is kind of sad that one of my first memories is getting sent to the principal's office, but it's probably because it was so traumatic.
Anyway.... there is no moral to these ridiculous stories, just something that I often think about that I thought I would share.

Hey kids! It's time to learn how to spell!

2009-12-29T14:14:00.000-07:00

In the second grade we chose vocabulary words every week to define and learn to spell. At the end of that week we would be tested on the words that we chose. One week we were challenged to pick countries so I spun the globe and my finger found Nigeria, which in my 2nd grade naiveté I pronounced as if it had two "g"s. I don't remember, but I think my teacher must have corrected me.

FIRE SALE: Everything must go!

2009-12-24T09:02:00.003-07:00

Baby for sale:
2009 model Abe Lewis in near mint condition with very low mileage that we are trying to get rid of. It has a white body with dark brown trim. Everything working great, but my wife thought we would use it more than we are and now it's just sitting around so we thought we would try to sell it to someone who can get more use out of it. It's in perfect shape with little sign of use. It does leak from time to time, but has been fitted with an easy to interchange receptacle for the fluids. Very low maintenance; it's very quiet and only makes noise when you want it to. It's not mobile right now, but with a little work you could get it running in no time.
Upon request, it can be purchased with all the accessories. We have several different adornments for it and different trailers by which it can be towed anywhere you need to take it.
All regular maintenance has been done. All fluids are changed promptly upon need and it has been updated with all weather resistance fluids as well.
It's a great baby; you will love it! Please call or e-mail for a test run at (911)911-9911 or ifyoubelievemeyouareanidiot@gmail.com

I guess a little explanation is in order. I once put a very similar ad on www.craigslist.com under the baby section. I think I was shopping for a car at the time and the baby section seemed funny because I guess I just imagined it as a marketplace for babies (not really, but it was late and I was probably pretty tired). I put this up and within about 10 seconds it had been reported so many times that craigslist took it down, but I did get an e-mail from a guy from craigslist saying that it was one of the funniest things he had ever seen.
Merry Christmas everyone.

Abe pictures

2009-12-15T18:10:00.005-07:00

If you thought I meant Abe my child you were sort of right, but sort of wrong too.

Abe is amazing: he took four shots and didn't even get drunk

2009-12-01T17:58:00.000-07:00

Yes, Abe got some shots today. I wasn't there, but from the report I got, he cried for two minutes and then was all done. I am quickly approaching the end of the year which means I will be writing some papers that will try to make it seem as if I learned something in the classes that I took.
Life is pretty boring right now, which is pretty great. The house is still standing, Abe is growing, Pia and I are still married. I guess in today's world that is kind of news (all of it).
I wonder if the world really is worse now than it used to be, or we just become more aware of the evils of the world as we get older, and especially after we have children.
Christmas is quickly approaching and I will be thinking about my Christmas message. Last year it was, "Everyone needs a friend on meth," so I have a lot to live up to.
Sorry this is so discombobulated.

The black sheep complains by saying, "baaaaaaah"

2009-11-25T22:31:00.003-07:00

I am going to try to make this as non-complainy (I know it's not a word, but work with me here) as possible, but if you would like to imagine me saying this with a clogged nose in between uncontrollable sobs, that's your prerogative, and who am I to take that away from you?
It kind of sucks to be the black sheep sometimes. When I am with my family in small groups it works out fine because we can always revert to something that we share in common like church or school, or work, but when there are more people, there is less common ground for group conversations, so without fail, the conversation goes to sports, because that's what everyone likes and of which everyone has a pretty deep knowledge. We watch game after game of which I have no interest and it wains as the hours go on. I try to throw out some line that I may have heard at work or read by mistake in the newspaper, or I will ask some question for which the answer doesn't interest me at all, but I ask to try to be a part of it all.
I did that same thing before I was married with fathers of my dates. They would be watching a game when I went to go pick them up and I would try to remember something that one of my brothers had said about a team and then regurgitate is back, hoping that I wouldn't sound like a total retard.
There is more to it, but at the risk of being a cry baby I will leave it at that.

Laughing is funny

2009-11-20T23:29:00.003-07:00

I will stop parading around my child now, but this cracked me up.

Babe-Raham Pictures

2009-11-11T13:12:00.008-07:00

Here are some pictures of the child. It ranges from normal pictures of him looking insane to what appears to be Halloween, but is really just our Thursday night ritual of me dressing up in an Abraham Lincoln mask to give him someone to look up to (because heaven knows it shouldn't be me). The last picture is in Disneyland and when he turns 4 and tells us he wants to go, that picture will be the first thing we show him, saying, "You already went to Disneyland....don't you remember?"
The baby in the second picture is his cousin Sam. If the photo serves us right, Abe will be left-handed and Sam will be right-handed.

What are you trying to say?

2009-11-09T19:22:00.003-07:00

I came to my blog today because I hadn't written in a while and I decided that I would write a quick post about the house. I will be posting new pictures of the child soon because that's what will fill the spaces in between ideas for posts. I thought I was going to have to just whip something up; that was until I saw that another comment had been posted on my previous post. The comment was from anonymous and reads as follows (all in hyperlinks)

"viagra in the water female use of viagra effects of viagra buy cheap viagra soft viagra results viagra pills viagra from india lowest price viagra free sample pack of viagra fda on viagra viagra pills cialis vs viagra viagra discount viagra free samples."

Apparently some advertiser thinks way more people read this blog than actually do, or maybe my wife is trying to give me a subtle hint.
Whoever Anonymous is, you have won the contest for the best comment ever. So I would stand up to shake your hand, but ...... you know.

Seriously guys, who took a dump in the toilet?

2009-10-20T12:43:00.001-07:00

While the toilet may seem like the most appropriate place to lay rest to fecal matter, it is not when it comes to my house, at least not before I have taken possession of it (the house, not the feces). Apparently someone had to go to the bathroom so bad that they decided to go in what was then a vacant home (with no running water (which means he didn't wash his hands afterwards (I blame bad parenting))). I went through the house the night I got the key and followed an intriguing smell, which eventually brought me to each toilet which was filled will feces. I say it was my realtor (we were looking for a house for over six months so I can't say it wasn't justified). Whoever you are, we loved the housewarming gift and wish you the best in all future endeavors.

Semifinal house news

2009-10-09T12:13:00.003-07:00

There is only a small update. Pia and I have done the final walk-through of the house and nothing appeared to be on fire, so we signed a form and will be closing on Tuesday the 13th. Both Pia and I are excited and anxious; it's like having a baby, except hopefully the house won't poop itself.

Photojournalist of the century

2009-10-05T17:55:00.004-07:00

I read two news sources online. I read http://www.azcentral.com/ which shares local news with a heavy mix of ridiculousness. They will publish a story about a child abducted in Phoenix next to a story about a group of killer porcupines trolling around the frozen tundra of Russia. I also read http://www.nytimes.com/ which is generally more mature and panders less to idiots who only want their news to contain crazy off the wall stories.
This story is currently on the front page of www.AZcentral.com "Pack of raccoons mauls Florida woman."
But, the New York Times, may have won the contest today (and possibly forever), because when I went to their website, this was the first thing I saw, their lead story: I don't know if it would just be funnier not to explain the picture. This man is in England, protesting the price drop of milk. (here is a link to the article http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/06/business/global/06milk.html?ref=business )

Chicks dig scars.... in the 90's

2009-10-03T11:54:00.004-07:00

I was thinking about the saying, "Chicks dig scars." I was looking over my hands and feet and was noticing that I have quite a few scars, nothing monstrous, but some definitive marks from childhood falls and such. One time, I closed the door to my family's Volkswagen Rabbit so the edge of the door slid along the inside of my arm taking with it a significant section of flesh. For a while it looked like I had tried to slit my wrists, but has since disappeared almost completely.

I haven't heard the term, "Chicks dig scars" in about ten years which sounds about right, because it's absolutely not true anymore. Chicks may have dug scars back in the 90's, but while those scars are still making you a rugged piece of work, chicks aren't digging you like they once did.

More house news

2009-10-01T00:42:00.002-07:00

The repairs will be done later today and we should be closing on the home next week. I am sure everyone is very relieved that all this investment of phone calls and pretending to care is finally going to result in a payday. I have realized through this process that the people helping you through the home-buying process are just as big of scum-bags as used car salesmen and people associated with that process. They may hold themselves in a higher regard, but a flying cockroach is still just a cockroach with wings.

House repairs have been APPROVED

2009-09-28T15:29:00.001-07:00

As the title states: The repairs that we asked for on the home have been approved and we will be closing shortly. Pia and I are very excited.

Cannibalism is deliciousnessism

2009-09-26T20:45:00.002-07:00

BAbraham has decided we don't feed him enough and that he will supplement his milk diet with some good old fashioned meat (specifically from him own hand).

Obviously he is trying to learn how to suck his thumb, but...... well..... he's learning.

Lessons in video editing and child abuse

2009-09-25T18:34:00.002-07:00

I recently took a video of my son in my arms as I gently swayed him back and forth. The video was about 20 seconds in length, but then I decided to edit it. My computer has some amateur video editing stuff built in, so I sped up the video by 4 times, and now the video is a five second demonstration of child abuse as I violently shake my child to and fro. I would post it, but I haven't found a way to add Benny Hill music yet, and Pia and I would rather not have our child taken away.

No news on the house and we continue to wait. I hope we find out on Monday; my fingernails can't take much more of this.

House news and the reason I don't slam doors...... anymore

2009-09-22T17:59:00.000-07:00

I will find out tomorrow if my wife and I will be closing on a home that we have been working toward, or have to walk away and start the search all over again. I am stressed about it, but it's just a house, so I don't really care that much. If it doesn't work out, I won't be too bothered about it, because I would rather not live in Arizona anyway, but the benefits of having a home near my parents and brother far outweigh my personal desire to live somewhere else. I will write tomorrow as things unfold, but for anyone who really gives a crap, you will probably end up hearing much before I get to write it here.

When I was in between 5-7 (I only know the ages because of the house I was living in at the time) I was having a fight with a friend (it was probably because he was a cheap bastard at 4-square). He came over to my house one day and knocked on the door (probably came over to apologize for Dragon Punching in a round in which it was prohibited). Someone called me to the door which was open with him standing on the opposite side of a closed screen. I don't remember if I talked to him or just slammed the door in his face, but I do remember I threw that door as hard as I could closed.
It's at this time I would like to mention that my mother has always had jobs in which she was receiving boxes at home. One of these boxes just happened to be in the path in between the swinging door and the door frame (intended point of destination for the door).
I slammed the door with every muscle in my 5 - 7 year old body. The door hit the box and came back full force into my head. Don't worry, the flat part missed my head completely, it was the end of the door (the corner) that hit me right in the forehead.
I don't remember if I cried...... I probably cried, but I never slammed a door on anyone ever again. You only have to hit this kid in the head with a door once.

A lesson in anatomy

2009-09-19T16:59:00.000-07:00

I have 3 brothers and no sisters, so as one can imagine, there was (amongst other things) a lot of mystery when it came to the female anatomy.
Once, when camping with my family and some extended family (I don't remember anything about this time other than this particular story, so I must have been about 6) my brother was talking to me about how girls pee. He couldn't figure it out, and wanted me (remember, I am 6) to clear things up for him. He asked me to ask one of my female cousins if they peed from their butt as we had hypothesized. So I went and asked and my cousin must have been confused by the question because for the longest time in my childhood, I was certain that she had confirmed, and that was the way it worked.
As a side note pertaining to the blog, you should really thank me that I decided to omit pictures from this post.

Sprite: The coolest pop ever.... ever

2009-09-15T19:46:00.001-07:00

There is a new trend in promotions, and just about everything else, that I don't understand. It's Twitter yes, but that's not the conversation for today. I don't understand all the texting going on.

Yes, I understand texting is a great way to communicate quickly when a phone call is not appropriate, it's a non-confrontational way to say "no" to someone, and it's a good way to get in an accident on the freeway, but what I don't understand is all the texting in promotions. The radio station that I listen to wants me to text the word "music" to them and if I am the 500th text, I can win concert tickets. Post midnight commercials want me to text the word "babe" to some 5 digit number and I will get some sexy babe pictures on my phone, and Sprite wants me to text the code underneath the cap to redeem a prize.

Concert tickets and sexy babe pictures didn't get me to text, but when I heard Sprite prizes, I guess it was too much to handle. I caved and sent the following text to 77483, "4W49 RAW7 KBBM."

I got a text back that reads, "Sprite UTC: Hey! We need ur bday 2 get started. Reply STOP 2 end, HELP 4 info. Othr chrgs may aply."

O....M.....G Sprite, U R like da bom....U R the culest pop co eva. I cant blve how cul u'r abbrevs R. U R so ttly w/ it. & whn I say IT, I meen evrytang. Im imprsd dat sumthin U cld hv just speld out, U tuk da time to mayk luk all texty.

Needless to say, I didn't reply with my birth date. Initially I thought they were asking for my E-bay account and thought they might have had some cross promotion with e-bay, but no, it was bday.
I recently watched a movie from the early 90s about a surfer kid from California that goes to Ohio (or something like that) to live with his aunt and uncle for a summer. He uses phrases like, "Chill out man," and words like, "bro (pronounced bra)." The movie didn't age well because you watch it now and everyone sounds ridiculous (they probably sounded pretty stupid in the early 90's too, but there was a large part of the culture that bought into that crap). I hope that texting language ends up the same way. Seeing their attempt at linguistic mutuality with their customer seems so forced and desperate.
So, here's to you Sprite: Linguistic masterminds and da culest pop co eva.

Hell yes I want my nickel

2009-09-08T12:30:00.002-07:00

One afternoon a couple of months ago I visited a Mexican dining establishment that I frequent. I ordered my number 3 (grilled stuffed burrito, stale chips with processed cheese-like substance and a carbon based beverage) and was given a total of four dollars and ninety-five cents. Adding to the uniqueness of this situation, I, for some reason, had cash. I pulled up to the window and a young woman, wearing a purple uniform repeated the total. I gave her the five dollars and she thanked my as the currency exchanged hands. She stepped slightly away from the window to insert the money into the register and then looked back at me and asked, "Did you want your change?" I was almost sure that there was no way that she just asked me if I wanted my change so I said, "I'm sorry, what?"
"Do you want your change," there was no mistaking it this time. This girl wanted to steal my .05. I didn't know what to say. For a moment I thought, just let her have it, because she has already brought up the idea that no one would want a nickel change; just let her hang on to it. Rationality caught a hold of me in that moment and even though it took me a moment to reply, I replied, "uhm.....ya, I want my change." The young employee then explained that most people, when the amount of change is so low just tell her to keep it. She explained this as she placed the nickel in my palm with a forced smile. I felt like Scrooge, but I had my nickel.
This story brought about a few topics to discuss and I may not discuss them entirely here, just some food for thought.
1. What is the line that she makes in between when to ask if the person wants their change and when to just hand them their damned change like she should be doing in the first place?
2. If she asks every person if they want their change, how much is she supplementing her income?
2a. She makes minimum wage, so it's possible that this is a significant percentage of her income, possibly and additional 20%-25%.
3. How much change would you give up?

Personally. If the total were $4.99 and she asked me if I wanted my change, I would have looked at her like she was crazy and had the same response I did previously, "Hell yes I want my nickel."
(I can't seem to add the pictures I want at work, so I will have them on this evening)

Return of the money whores we endearingly refer to as educators

2009-09-03T19:46:00.004-07:00

Sure educators aren't the problem, but rather the system that is used to underpay them while still gouging the students as much as humanly possible. Two classes at Arizona State University cost me 3000.00. Actually it cost me 2998.00, but who's counting. In contrast, I am also taking 2 classes at the community college (one for a prerequisite and the other just for fun) and it is going to cost me 451.00. One of the classes at the community college is a lab and has a corresponding fee which is included in the number above. Thank heaven for community colleges. Now that I have a child I may be more eligible for financial aid than I was in the past, but we will see after the sale on the house finally closes.
I haven't written in a long time and a lot has happened. I went to Italy with my mom (because I hate my wife (actually she was 6 months pregnant and probably shouldn't have gone.)) I will discuss that later.
I am actually in my programming class now, but everyone else in on www.facebook.com so I thought it would be appropriate for me to do this. My speaks dork, which might as well be Chinese. There are step by step instructions for the assignments online, so I am not even sure why I am in class to begin with, but here I am, because I gotst to get smart quickerly.

So, here I am.....writing...... Life is getting back into a routine which makes it easier for me to find time to write (apparently in class) You will hear more from me in the future.
The spawn is doing well. He is still not ugly, which makes me love him more.
More to come

A message from my son

2009-08-11T15:48:00.003-07:00

I promise to not be one of those blogs that just talks about their kids and how hillarious all the crap they do is, but my son was enjoying some "tummy time" and when I saw this, I screamed at my wife to grab the camera. So here's a hello from my son to the world. Definitely his father's boy.

Shoot me in the face Abraham

2009-07-25T11:50:00.007-07:00

My apologies for not posting in a while and probably not posting a while from now, but I do want to get these pictures up so friends and family too far away to come to the hospital can see the thing I just made. We are calling it Abraham Mont Lewis for now, but we may get tired of that in a couple of years or so. We will play it by ear. So here are my favorite pics.

It's not you, it's me

2009-04-13T15:31:00.002-07:00

This will be short (but I trust you have eyes and could see that anyway....sorry if I offended you). I am in the thick of looking for a house and every spare moment is either on www.ziprealty.com or out looking at houses. Things should return to (more) normal in a few weeks.

Why buy when you can squat?

2009-03-23T11:26:00.004-07:00

I live in Arizona where we had a housing boom and then a fallout. We see houses double in value over the course of just a couple of years and now they are back down, just below what they were before the explosion. One of the reasons that housing is so cheap is because supply is so much higher than demand (look at those college economic courses I took finally paying off). The inability to pay mortgages has left the housing market full of homes, both new and old, owned by banks and void of anyone living in them. I went to go look at houses with a realtor a couple of weeks ago and while he told us that he would only show us a couple of foreclosures mixed in between regular sale homes, he overestimated the strength of his own market and ended up showing us nothing but foreclosures (10 in all).
Only one of the homes was totally trashed, apparently when you are mad at yourself for not being able to pay your mortgage, you take it out on the house that you purchased with the money you couldn't pay back.
The rest of the homes were in wonderful condition and it made me think, why am I thinking about buying when I could just squat. Who knows when this market is going to get better? and how hard is it to change locks anyway? The only way for a realtors to get in is through the key in the lockbox, so if I simply change the lock on the front door I could squat undetected. No realtor is going to say, "well, the key doesn't work, so let me just break this window and you and your wife and crawl in." I figure I have a week to two weeks from the first time that someone can't get in to move before someone comes to figure out what the problem is (probably more, I mean, who has that job anyway?)
Let's figure this out together. I pay $620. (and some change) for rent. I rent a 2 bedroom 1.75 bathroom half of a duplex. If I squat, I need to pay for a new deadbolt lock on 2 doors and I could install them myself, but for arguments sake let's even have someone else install them. At http://www.homedepot.com/ I can buy a deadbolt lock for 35.00 with free shipping and let's say I have to buy one for each of the two doors with this kind of lock, I can use a broom stick for the sliding glass door, let's add 10.00 there and let's also say that I will be squatting in two houses per month. That's a total of 160.00 which is a monthly saving of 460.
If I told you, you could save 460.00 a month by moving out of your crappy rental unit and choosing a home from thousands of available to be your very own (sort of), would you do it? Of course. Ever dreamed of having multiple homes? Squatting is the perfect way to feel like your rich on a hobo's budget. Even if you're not living on a hobo's budget, squatting is the perfect way to save money during these tough economic times.

Vacation for you and me

2009-03-19T22:40:00.002-07:00

I am taking a couple of days off work because my wife is in California visiting her family. If she gets a vacation, so do I! I don't have any specific plans, but I hope to get a lot of creative writing done. I am going to find a place to perform (spoken word) on Saturday, but other than that, we will see what happens (I say that, and if you didn't know me you would think that means anything, but if you have even met me, you would know that means that I will be doing absolutely nothing.) For reference, please see: http://shootmeinthefaceplease.blogspot.com/2008/08/free-at-last.html

Scary Moments in Muting

2009-03-09T15:06:00.007-07:00

I have worked on the phones for my entire working life, consequently, I rarely answer my own phone (but that is not the point I will be making today, just a justification (not an apology) for me really upsetting people that actually want to talk to me (as if there were any)). There are two very important buttons on the phone at work: The first is the "release button." The release button is what I throw my fist on when the customer finally relinquishes me from their frigid hands of pure evil and malice. The release button is the button I imagine slamming my forehead on, in exasperation after I hear things like, "Above ground basement" and "Z as in Xerox" (both real quotes). The other important button is the mute button. The mute button is the one I press right before I stand up and exclaim to all those around me how stupid the person on the other end of the line is, or when I have to fall out of my chair laughing because the parents of the person calling in on the phone decided to punish their child with the name Joe Joe Josephson (also true).

I was working as a collector for a well known telephone company and on the phone with a woman who was about to make a payment over the phone with me. While grabbing her checkbook she (I imagined of course (keep in mind, I am just on the phone with her)) started coughing a wheezy cough that eventually overtook her body, forcing her first on her knees and then in the fetal position where she tried to maintain consciousness through the inability to breath because of her uncontrollable coughing. Each cough seemed to give birth to 3 more little coughs which filled her lungs and seemed to want to kill her. I pressed the magic mute button and said in a manner in which those around me would hear me, "Maybe you should stop smoking!" I moved my hand back to the box with my two favorite buttons and felt for the activated button. It seemed my finger was trying to deceive me as the button was didn't feel as though it had been activated. I looked down and to my horror saw that the customer would have heard every word that I just said. While my advice was certainly sound, it is still something that could have resulted in my termination from that employment. My blood ran cold as my customer weakly got up from the floor, receiving help from a chair that she grasped as the last of the flem filled coughs left her throat. I waited in silence for the explosion of anger and the wishes to speak with my supervisor. Those fears were never realized as my yelled insulting advice was never heard over the muting power of her black lung filled coughs. It is the most relieved I have ever been in recent memory. I still mute customer to do the same thing (so I guess there is no moral, because no lesson was learned), but I do double check from time to time in moments of would be horror to make sure that my comments stay behind the blocking power of my favorite button.

Head shoulders knees and toes

2009-03-05T10:53:00.002-07:00

And a penis. IT'S A BOY! I will post new pictures tonight when I get the disk from the wife. I have to admit I am bummed that I won't be using Julia Evelyn, because I think that that's a beautiful name, but I would have been bummed if I couldn't use Abraham, so the I guess the point is, this child is nothing but a life full of disappointments and why not start now? That may be a little extreme, but it's not like he can read yet (on second thought, we probably shouldn't teach him to read, because that can only lead to him thinking less of me).

The initial Dilemma and other bad puns

2009-03-04T15:29:00.005-07:00

BML / KSL / ALL / JML / JKL / SBL
These are the initials of my immediate family. JML has the best initials because.... well.... just look at them. It's almost (I am currently driving myself insane because I can't think of the word for when something is equally weighted or is the same on one side as it is on the other. AHHHHHHHHHH I feel so stupid and trapped and it will be the end of me.) JKL are cool initials because they are alphabetical and just look like solid initials. ALL spells a word and I would prefer to avoid that. BML is rough because of...... (SYMETRICAL!!!!! I got it) the BM part. I really don't want to start the child on a life in which they will be the butt of jokes. I figure that they will do that on their own and don't need any help from a crappy name or initials. Girl names are easy, because there are so many beautiful names. If we find out tomorrow that the baby is a girl, her name will be Julia Evelyn Lewis (not sure on the spelling on Evelyn yet (I will make it as traditional as possible)), but if the baby is a boy the name will be Abraham .... Lewis. We don't want a biblical middle name because that will make the kid look like he's a nut (or at least his parents). Abraham is actually after Abraham Lincoln and while I also like the name Lincoln I don't want to seem like a nut in the other direction either, plus you want to give the kid the opportunity to have his own identity and not be held down by the full name of another. I really like my grandfather's name, but I fear that if I name him Abraham Mont Lewis that he will be born with a cigar in mouth and a monocle. I was looking at names last night and found Orson, which I really liked, until I realized that his initials would be AOL. I don't know that AOL will exist in the future, but I just can't run that risk. So, I liked Orson, but now that's gone. Now I like Sid which is a strong single syllable name, but it's really up in the air. Sid would make his initials ASL which is American Sign Language, but certainly a reference that wouldn't embarrass him at every occasion like AOL. DAMN YOU ACRONYMS!
So what is your choice?
If you pick a good middle name of my child and it's a boy, I will give you the baby........... or ten bucks, whichever you want. Good luck, and don't forget the importance of initials.

(Final Note: What an aweful painting of Abraham Lincoln, but it definitely goes along with the blog quote nicely, and the other pic..... bling bling?)

Shoot me in the face again

2009-02-27T21:08:00.004-07:00

Sometimes it's just one of those "shoot me in the face" moments. It's Friday 9:09 in the PM and I am sitting here at work waiting for some drunk moron to call me and in a dialect of English that no one who isn't from the caves in the hills behind some trailer in Alabama could understand, ask me for a quote for insurance. He will believe that his 3 DUI's and various accidents shouldn't disqualify him for insurance and auto insurance is just a way for "the man" to rob him from all of his wealth that could have been spent in the bar on hard liquor. So, Shoot me in the Face, because it's Friday and if you love you, you will help me.

Insomnia would be better

2009-02-23T19:45:00.005-07:00

In the last two weeks I have been haunted by the worst nightmares I have ever had. Before the last two weeks I have had nightmares about Jason Voorhees slashing me in the back with a machete, I have had dreams about racing to the top of a burning building while being chased by Freddy Krueger, and I have had dreams that I went to school or work completely naked, but nothing compares to the dreams that I have had over the last 14 days. I have dreamt every night for the last two weeks that I was at work. I wasn't being haunted by the ghost of childhood friends, I wasn't being attacked by a horde of zombies, I was at work, taking phone calls, talking to customers and doing all those things that I do in a given day at work. I then wake up and have to go to work. I wonder why I even bother sleeping because it benefits me nothing. Sleeping is supposed to be restful, a time to escape from reality, but my dreams are betraying me and throwing me back in the reality out of which I wish to escape.

I go into work the next day and feel like I never left. I normally sleep anywhere from 6-8 hours, but when I wake up from these nightmares I force myself to fall asleep again, trying to focus every thought on something other than work hoping that that will transfer into my dreams and maybe I will get one hour of real rest, but it is to no avail, I fall asleep to wake up in my dreams again at my desk working.

The dreams have subsided for now, but the last two weeks are in fierce competition for the worst two weeks of my life.

Dude, put that thing away!

2009-02-20T20:19:00.004-07:00

I work with a good group of guys and we like to give each other crap, because that's what guys do. The reason that we are able to put up with so much verbal abuse is because we are all pretty self deprecating and for every joke that cuts down someone else, we make two that cut down ourselves. We all went out to lunch a couple of days ago and when climbing into my coworkers car I found something so vile, sad, and grotesque that I knew that I would never let him live it downYes, it was a fanny pack. I told him I could have found a mammoth stash of gay porn and I would not have given him any crap, but a fanny pack..... unacceptable. As a part of me never letting him live it down, here it is, on my blog.

The Economic Choke Hold and other wresting moves

2009-02-20T19:56:00.003-07:00

It has been a particularly stressful week at work with managers storming up and down isles of cramped cubicles because they are being pressured by someone who has the power to make them uncomfortable, and if they can't sit down and exhale, they aren't going to let anyone else do it either. It's not that anything has changed, but as my mom put it, it's a bad time to be the BMW of insurance, or whatever high end something or other that you want to put there. We have been extremely busy, but not with selling anything, because it doesn't matter that we have the seat cushions that keep your butt warm, if we don't save someone money, they aren't interested. Our prices are a cold hard fact that the company refused to accept, and as you may know, denial is the best business strategy.

If you sing, I will rip your larynx out

2009-02-17T21:42:00.003-07:00

Today is my birthday, but I am not a big birthday person, so while I had the day off, I opted to work because I apparently hate myself. My mom made a delicious cake and bought me an awesome book called "Lincoln, The Biography of a Writer." I am very excited to get through it. (thank you Mom) My brother sent me a text which is pretty out of character because the last time I sent him a text message he made me give him a quarter for the charge, so that's a pretty big deal. A text is nice because it says, "I know it's your birthday because I am a good person and I am not going to make us both feel uncomfortable by calling you and pretending that either one of us give a crap that it's your birthday." I would actually prefer that all my birthday wishes were through text, that way I could hide them and quickly delete them. The 16 year old in me is saying that 25 is so old, but the 25 year old in me still thinks I am a kid. I have a lot to complain about very soon, but I just wanted to check in and say hi........ "hi."
Worst birthday cake ever!

No, thank you, for making me cry

2009-02-12T15:37:00.006-07:00

The water here in the Phoenix area of Arizona tastes like..... well, it takes like water, or rather water from a muddy puddle. When I lived in Oregon the water tasted great. The water that came out of the hose was clean, cold, and delicious; on the flip side, I don't like touching the hose water in Arizona with my bare hands. I used to laugh at "Hollywood" buying their bottled water and how stupid and wasteful that was. (They could drink from the hose like the rest of us) (let's keep in mind that I lived in OR until I was 11.)
I now own a water cooler and fill my 5-gallon jugs of water at one of the many local water stores that sprinkle the area. A water store is generally the smallest store located in a strip mall and in addition to offering water treated to reverse osmosis, they sell: pop, ice-cream, and assorted candies. I walked in and was immediately greeted like a king. They took my jugs from me, filled them and then profusely thanked me for my business. "Thank you so much for your business, we really appreciate it," the owner (I assume) said with a puppy dog face that looked only seconds from breaking down into tears. A sign on the register said that debit would only be accepted if the purchase was more than 3.00 and for the first time in my life, I really felt bad for not having cash. I bought 3.35 in items and felt awful that this poor little shop that was in obvious dire need of my money would be charged by a company because of my use of a debit card.
On a side note, my favorite taqueria is going to be shutting its doors in less than a month because I am the only person that ever seems to go there.
I don't care if McDonalds has to close a couple of its rat hole locations, or if the Wal-Mart stock goes down a couple of dollars, but when local businesses struggle, I do feel bad; it just feels more personal. I wish I could do more to help these companies, but there is only so much water I can drink, and only so many tortas that I can stuff in my mouth. So, to the extremely grateful shop-owner, thank you for your thanks, but you really just made me want to cry.

OCD and Me (ugh, that's aweful)

2009-02-11T11:42:00.004-07:00

Dictionary.com defines OCD as, "Obsessive Compulsive Disorder." (okay, that's a little tongue in cheek)

This will be a short post, because let's be honest, if you have read every word out of my last three posts (being of a dauntingly long winded nature) you need to get a hobby or call a help line or something, just get help and get it quickly.

Today I just wanted to talk for a second about something that I do that is rather odd. Sometimes I like to tie myself up and drown myself in applesa.....I've said too much (that was kind of gross, so for my easily sickened friends I am sorry (I think I just heard my pregnant wife throw up)).

That last part may not have been true. The weird thing that I do is really everything with a pen in my hand. I read, work, and eat with a pen in my hand. While reading with a pen is pretty normal (I, like many people, like to make notes in the books that I read), working is a bit different, because I work on a computer. I literally type with a pen in my left hand. It makes things a little more difficult, but I do it anyway. Now, I don't think I have the "O" in "OCD" because I don't HAVE to have a pen with me at all times, but when there is one around, it is in my hand. I have a nice pen at work that my parents got me for Christmas a couple of years ago and even though it hasn't had any ink for about a year, it stays fixed in between my middle and index finger as I type away at my keyboard.

The reason I mention this now is that I was looking at myself typing with a pen in my hand and I thought to myself, "well that's stupid," but I like it all the same.

Nothing big to report today (obviously because I am talking about pens) so until tomorrow when the world explodes and there is more to write about. (I couldn't think of a way to end that sentence that didn't end in a preposition.)

The best night of your entire life, brought to you by Ambien

2009-02-10T15:01:00.008-07:00

I am not a picky eater, but I hate green beans. They seem so innocent. Green beans have little flavor, it's almost like saying you don't like lettuce, but for some reason my body will not allow them in the stomach. Needless to say, some people have different reactions to ingesting different items; The same is true when it comes to drugs and for the purposes of this post, the same is true when it comes to taking Ambien.
I got a prescription for Ambien about a year and a half ago for an international flight that I was going to be taking. I wanted to be unconscious for the duration so I went to the doctor and got a prescription. I took a single pill within the first couple days after filling the prescription and it was without exaggeration, the best sleep I have ever had in my entire life. I fell asleep seconds after I took the pill; I slept for 8 hours to the minute; I woke up without any drowsiness and didn't feel tired the whole day after.
Ambien is known to be extremely addictive and I understand why, it's a great drug, but in my defense, a year and a half later, I am still on my first 30 pills.
My experiences with Ambien have all been relatively similar, but my wife is a totally different story. The following are the only two times that I ever let me wife take Ambien.

1. After a fairly traumatic experience in flight my wife and I finally made it to Ecuador. It was the first time in about 6 years that my wife had been back to her home country and things were winding down from an exciting first day. My wife thought that there was no way that she would get to sleep and asked to take one of my Ambien. I thought it harmless enough and allowed her to take half of a pill. She woke up several times in the middle of the night because of nightmares and unable to tell the difference between being awake and asleep she would wake up breathing heavy screaming for me because someone was after her. I tried to console her, but with eyes wide open she would swear that someone was there and trying to hurt her. (needless to say I didn't sleep much) This happened a few times until she eventually drifted into complete unconsciousness. In the morning, I got up and showered and then tried to wake up my wife. I sat at the side of the bed in the hotel in which we were staying and kissed her cheek.......nothing. I then softly said her name in her ear......nothing. I then said her name in her ear......nothing. I then yelled her name...... nothing. Ambien, I thought, had killed my wife. I checked for breathing and was relieved (I mean, who gave her the Ambien?) to find that everything appeared normal, except the fact that this girl was aaaasleep. I put my hand on her should and gently shook her saying her name in a not so quiet fashion. She moved and mumbled. I was done playing loving husband and was worried enough to just do anything possible to wake her up. I then shook her a little harder and yelled her name. She mumbled, as if still asleep, "I can't open my eyes." Then again, more clearly, as if waking, said, "I can't open my eyes." Then she started getting scared and crying because she couldn't open her eyes. I thought to myself, "I know what I will do, I will open her eyes for her."...........Nope......the problem was not that her eyelashes had crusted together and made it impossible for her to open her eyes, it was rather that she has no muscular control over her eyelids and therefore could not open them. When I opened them for her, she couldn't see anything. She was scared that she had gone blind. I tried to wake her up more and get her to sit up, which was a struggle because she had about as much muscle control as a corpse and it was like trying to position a body without bones. I eventually got her sitting up, but she still couldn't see. At this time, my wife's sister was in the room, clapping in front of my wife's face to try to get her up (she also splashed water on her face. (This was more the "we're breaking up and I hate you" splashing water in the face, rather than the you're a catholic baby being baptized splash in the face.) She opened her eyes under her own power about 15 very long minutes after me first trying to wake her up. She stumbled into the shower and to this day does not remember that morning.

You would think that after that experience I would never let me wife take another Ambien ever again, but I am retarded and the hope of result was greater for my wife than the memory of reality so she begged me to allow her to take another. I am not sure why I did it, but I did and the following was the result.

2. Several months had passed since the first experience with my wife and the wonder-drug that is Ambien and she couldn't sleep. I allowed her to take 1/3 of a pill, knowing that a half a pill was probably a bit much for her. She fell asleep quickly, but within an hour shot up in bed crying that someone was going to get her. Her eyes were closed, but it didn't stop the tears of fear from flowing from her eyes. I asked her who was after her and she responded, "He won't let me see his face." I made some joke that I can't now remember and my wife laughed hysterically. She went back to sleep and I went back to a game of Tetris on my phone. Within minutes she looked over at what I was doing and started laughing at my game. She said, "That game is silly" and giggled. She took the phone from my hands and exited the game, looking at the digital icons that moved when highlighted. She giggled endlessly saying, "They are mooooooving, that's so silly." I paused for a moment and in shock said, Sweetie, you are high!" And sure enough, she was......very high. I have heard since that if you stay awake on Ambien that it makes you high, but had no idea at the time and because Ambien apparently had no power to put my wife to sleep, it only worked to get her as high as a kite. She woke up again later that night swearing that someone was after her, but I handed her my open phone and the giggles ensued.

We didn't have the traumatic experience waking her up the following morning, but the two experiences were enough for me to hide my prescription. Funny, because I couldn't stay awake after taking a pill if I tried. Ambien hits me like a truck and I am relatively certain that I could fall asleep standing up with a little help from my best friend Ambien.

European Dreaming

2009-02-09T21:04:00.003-07:00

It has been decided. I am using my American Airlines contest winnings to go to Europe. More specifically I am leaving the end of April and flying in to Madrid, Spain and from there going through France and Ending in Italy, from there I will head back to the United States. I plan on seeing as much of the tourist garbage as I can, and eating as much of it as possible. I plan to come back with some stories and at least 10 pounds that I didn't have before I left...... There is a story about who I am going with, but I fear it's too boring to really warrant your time in reading it. I just wanted to give a small update. Other than that, all is well in the land of "Shoot me in the Face" which is kind of counterproductive for the blog.....it being titled "shoot me in the face," but I am sure that life will go on. Tomorrow I will be talking about one of my favorite things in the world.......Ambien.

Hospital Trauma

2009-02-06T16:42:00.006-07:00

I have a feeling that with my wife being pregnant (if you say preggers I will punch you in the mouth) that I will be doing a lot of complaining about doctors, and today's post will be no exception. My wife had an acute fever with not so acute congestion and other symptoms that made her miserable to be around......I mean miserable all around (ya, that's what I mean). She went to work against her better judgment where she was so weak she thought she was going to pass out while driving. She called the doctor to see if she could take anything more than the Tylenol Cold and Sinus that she had been taking. The nurse said that she had to come in immediately as fevers can be very dangerous for an unborn child.

Now my wife is worried. She gets to the office and they start asking about her symptoms. They press on her stomach and ask if it hurts (my wife has had chronic stomach problems and has no gallbladder. Her stomach hurts at least a couple minutes every day and has done so for the last 5 years. She says that some of the touching hurts and the doctor says that she probably has an appendicitis. She is wheel chaired from the doctors office to the hospital (the entire time my wife is trying to convince the doctors that she just have the flu, but they won't here it.) She gets to the hospital and calls me. I came from work to the hospital where she is having tests done. She was calm and kind of perturbed because she was sure that she just had the flu and just wanted a prescription to help her get over it. They did an ultrasound, x-rays, blood tests, and tried to do a cat-scan, but due to the inherent danger to the baby (the radiation) my wife refused to allow them to do the test. My wife was given an IV and told that she couldn't eat anything in case they needed to rush her in to surgery. The doctor then explained that they think that my wife may have an appendicitis in which case the baby would have to be removed.......... So it was at this time that my wife freaking flips. I don't mean that to sound bad; I personally believe that she was totally justified in her response. She had already sent me back to work when the doctor told her this, so she calls me and I rush to the hospital (on a spare tire mind you, I had popped a flat earlier that day (ya, it was a great day)). So I get there and calm her down (she wasn't hysterical, but one can imagine how a pregnant woman would be if a doctor said they may have to remove her 3 month along unborn child). We wait another 2 hours and finally 5 hours after entering the hospital, the doctor comes in, says my wife has the flu and she should continue to take the Tylenol that she has been taking. 5 hours, 100.00, and no prescription later we headed home to shake off the horrible experience that was the hospital (fear factory).

8+6+Anonymity=Scumbag

2009-01-31T17:08:00.003-07:00

WARNING: This is a long post
As all of us have recently heard there is a woman who had octuplets in California and it was recently released that this woman already had six children. It's not my place to pass judgment on her, but it is my place to pass judgment on the people passing judgment on her. I was surprised by how many children this woman has, but I didn't feel disgusted or annoyed by the news, because really..... I don't care; it won't impact me, and other than the short feeling of sympathy for the long years she has, working really hard for her family, I won't even think twice about this woman or her children, but apparently I am the only person who is so passive about this story. One change that has been made to online news that makes you lose hope in human kind is that now people can leave comments after news stories. Every article turns into a forum in which people can express their opinions on a story. Some opinions are well thought out rebuttals and thought provoking, others are less than that.....much less than that. I read the article in the Arizona Republic about this woman who had octuplets who already had 6 children and read people's responses to the article. I was shocked at how mean and simply horrible people were to response this woman's story.

The following are comments made in regards to the article and my response to each comment.

"great so how much of MY taxes are going to pay to these 14 kids? people need to be more responsible"
- Ok, maybe starting out with a valid point, but instead of offering sympathy, this person immediately thinks of themselves. It doesn't matter if these children were born into a loving or abusive home, you are just pissed because you might have to drop some pennies into their coin jar.

"The woman had enough kids. I just don't understand"
-Understand that people can have as many kids as they please and your understanding should not limit people's lives or how many children they have. I am sure if the world was limited by your understanding we would be living in a very dark place.

"If she pays for them, takes care of them, then she can have as many as she wants."
-Thank you to the one reasonable person on the first page of comments (note that these comments are not a selection, but rather just the first page of comments of 34 pages of comments.)

"whats there to understand? you only need to know that people in this world are idiots. Theres no explaining their behavior."
-One of my favorite things in the whole world is when someone fails to use apostrophes in contractions while they are calling someone else an idiot. It's hard to call someone else stupid when you can't get the grammar right in the attack.

"This woman is a G.D. NUT!! Who the hell would want MORE kids, if you already have 6?????"
-Ok, that's just plain mean.

"A mormon!!"
-And here comes the Mormon bashing. No where in the article did it mention the church but people with their prejudices are never happy. This is the same person that demands respect for their beliefs, but won't provide the same for others, and what if they are Mormon? Then the kids will be taught to love their neighbor, not to drink or smoke, or do drugs......HOLY CRAP! That would be terrible!

"Anyone with an ounce of brains knows that fertility treatments often result in multiple births. Besides, why would anyone with 6 kids want fertility treatments in te first place? Big families are nice if you can afford them, but no doubt, the taxpayers of California will be footing the bill."
-What is wrong with you? Why does someone who has a lot of children deserve to be called named and belittled? And why do you automatically assume that she can't afford the children. Everyone wants to be the victim, so instead of just saying, "wow, that must be rough" they immediately turn it around and make themselves the victim.

"Where is the father in all of this is my question? I am assuming there was one if she already had 6 children..."
-The article mentioned at least 3 times that the woman used in vetro fertilization, but apparently it is not requisite to read the article before one passes judgment.

"Yeah - or perhaps not 1 but 6 fathers..."
-Again, just wow, people are cruel. Do you think you are being funny by being so mean? Of course you do, you are just anonymous internet bully and if you actually had to give your real name and contact information you would not dare to be such an insensitive jerk face.

"There was no mention of a "father" except the woman's father (the babies grandfather) who is going back to Iraq. I would try to escape also. What a mess... and no father figure. I wonder if she has a job besides being a baby factory??????????"
-More insults and more comments by someone who didn't read the article. (It's at this point that I was just shocked. It wasn't one person being mean, but everyone. I don't know what emotion I should feel toward this woman, but it should not be hate or malice.

"Already had six kids and lives with her parents? Looks like someone was trying to get on Oprah to get a bunch of handouts."
- The father of the mother stated to the media that they were going to move and the media would never know where they lived, which is a pretty good indication that they aren't looking for handouts or "help from Oprah," but it's easier to be malicious rather than reading and making an intuitive comment.

---------------------------------------------

I wish these people could be sued for slander, but no, the internet in all of its anonymous glory actually accommodates this kind of just plain mean behavior. If we are judged by our news forums we will be remembered as insensitive selfish bullies who find themselves the victim even in the most fickle headlines. These people are pathetic.

I didn't have any feelings about this story or woman before I read the comments, but now I hope she has kids until she is as barren as Death Valley in July, and then I hope she has 2 more kids, just to spite the pretentious commentators who think they are victimized by how others choose to live their private lives.

Just a note

2009-01-30T20:07:00.011-07:00

EDIT: Ok, so I guess this one deserves a disclaimer. I heard my grandmother read the post and was disturbed by its contents, so allow me to explain: This post is meant to be satirical of course. I am making fun of people that when you refer to their unborn child as "it" flip out as if you have just dishonored their family name. The post is a bit extreme on the sarcasm, but hey.....that's just me.
I am so sick of people calling the thing growing in my wife's womb a "baby" It is not a "baby," it's a fetus, so please when referring to the fetus, do not address it as a "baby," it's just not appropriate, it's not a baby yet and please don't try to predestine the fetus to something that it may never become (it may turn out to be something much better than a "baby," like a bunny or Underdog).

Here is a list of appropriate and inappropriate questions and statements in regards to the fetus:

Appropriate

1. How is the fetus doing?

2. Do you know what sex the fetus is yet?

3. That is the cutest fetus I have ever seen.

Inappropriate

1. When is the baby due?

2. Is this your first baby?

3. I bet that will be the cutest baby ever.

Please, show some respect for the stages of life and don't call the fetus a "baby." I also found the following sound advice on the internet. Thank goodness for the internet, but now I am at a loss on how to introduce the fetus to our fish.

My Little Fetus and other toys your kids shouldn't play with.

2009-01-29T14:37:00.006-07:00

Here are pictures from yesterday's doctor's appointment. I will post the video when I get home.
Already a thumbsucker..... man, not even born and already developing bad habits.

I think I just heard your name on the news

2009-01-26T21:45:00.004-07:00

I watch the news for about 2 minutes every morning. I don't like watching the news because it makes me lose hope in humanity and the world in general. I watch enough to see if the world has blown up and that's about all I can take. I read the newspaper, but it's just getting harder and harder to not cry when I open my eyes to the world around me, but boy am I glad I was watching this morning. Apparently there has been a controversy for the last couple of days about The mayor of Portland, Oregon and his sexual relationship with an underage intern. That in and of itself didn't really catch my attention, because let's be honest, who cares? People of power use that power for sex and have done so since biblical times. It just happens, what caught my ear was that this intern was male. Now this post isn't to comment on the morality or immortality of homosexuality, but rather the experience of being outed by a Mayor on CNN. If that poor kid wasn't already out of the closet and out in a big way, he had a "shoot me in the face" moment. "Hey, mom, dad, you may have seen on the news, but when I was 17 I had an affair with the Portland Mayor...... ya I know the mayor is a man.

It's always a horrifying experience when your secrets come back to bite you and with them being paraded by magazines, newspapers and the television with your picture next to the older man that you slept with, I am sure it's at least four and half times harder.

I don't have much commentary on this one, just a great moment in "Shoot me in the Face" history.

Love, Life, and The Onion

2009-01-26T18:26:00.009-07:00

A quick update on all things my baby. My wife is switching doctors in regards to her pregnancy because the one we have been using has refused to give her an ultrasound or even a due date for that matter, much to the protest of my wife. We don't really have anything to compare it to, so I told my wife that if she wants to change, it is completely up to her. The final straw came when my sister in law accompanied my wife to hear the baby's heart beat, the doctor came in the room by accident and only stayed because in his words, "he was already there." My sister in law confirmed that the doctor was an inattentive piece of pooh and so we have an appointment tomorrow in which we may possibly have an ultrasound.

Other than that, she is doing well. It has been confirmed that the thing growing in my wife's womb is singular which is nice.

Anyway, enough about her, this blog is about me.....me me me.

I had a couple of ideas for posts, but the one that I have for today has to do with a dream that I have had for a while. I am a huge fan of The Onion (http://www.theonion.com/). I think satire is a thinking man's humor (not to discount other types of humor; I like Dumb and Dumber just as much as the next man). I have always wanted to write an article for the onion, but haven't been able to think of anything truly creative. The Onion is pretty hit and miss. When it's funny, it's very funny, but otherwise it can be amusing, but overall "meh."

I was driving to work and noticed a big elegant sign in a window that ready, "Going out of Business." It was multicolored and approximately 4 feet high by 2.5 feet wide. So, here is the article that that single sign spawned.

Bob's Bad News Banners Thrives amid Crumbling Market

Here on the corner of recession and depression, on the corner of Bankruptcy and Foreclosure, on the corner of failing business and mortgage disasters, on the corner of Broadway and 43rd, on the corner across from that yellow house with green trim where that crazy lady who thinks she can talk to cats lives, stands Bob's Bad News Banners and a testament to survival in this dire market. While unemployment has nearly tripled over the last year, BBNB has doubled its workforce. While major auto companies beg congress for bailouts, BBNB has seen record sales. What does Bob do? you ask. Bob designs specialty signs for businesses, going out of business. "Going out of Business," "Store Closing Sale," "Foreclosure Sale," and even "Moving to Hawaii;" Bob says he can't keep up enough stock for the demand.

"I would get a contract for a retirement sale banner once a week or so, but since the market fallout, I don't know what to do with all the money I am making!" Bob exclaimed. Bob's operation has taken on 3 new employees and is planning its first expansion.
Bob's story of success is an example to all those around him. One florist shop closing due to months of unpaid lease dues is starting a collections agency. "I saw what Bob was doing, making the best of a bad situation, and I thought to myself, how can I cash in on other people's misery? It wasn't but a couple of minutes before I got a call from a collector and it hit me, where there is debt there is need of collection." The florist is not the only person finding new life in the dead economy. Several of the employees from a corner Starbucks have pooled their money together to buy a tow truck that they report will be used for repossessions. "This baby is going to make us millions," part owner John Wilcox said excitedly. When asked how Bob could help others in these times filled with struggled he left us with these words of advice, "The economy is great, just not the main one, sometimes you have to signs to people who go out of business, and after that, sell shopping carts to them when they lose their homes, it's opportunity, and it's knocking, you just have to answer the call."

Meh..... That wasn't as funny as it probably should have been, but really the joke was very singular and probably not funny enough in principle to spawn a good satirical article. I bet with some edits it could be quite a bit funnier. Anyway....Long post, thanks for listening.

Back to the grind

2009-01-22T19:31:00.002-07:00

Well, it was a nice couple of weeks, but I am back in school. I am having this incredible inner struggle to overcome my procrastination. There is nothing that I want to do less, than something right now, and I know that this attitude will eventually hurt me a lot, so I am struggling to overcome it now. It's been a rough week, but overall, much more productive than the last couple of months have been (wow, that's really embarrassing). I have some ideas rolling around in my head for blog entries, but I will hash them out in my mind before subjecting anyone to them.
1. Fast food: The picture on the drive-thru VS. what you actually get.
2. Music: Why doesn't music nowadays inspire me like it used to?
3. TV: Why does ABC family seem to talk more about sex and drugs more than any other channel?
4. Movies: What I have seen and why I fell asleep.

and so on.
Oh man, I just want school to be over, but it's good, because at least this way I have my exercise again, running from my car to class and then back again.
More to come.......

Be back soon

2009-01-21T15:20:00.000-07:00

This is what I get for trying to act human

2009-01-12T17:39:00.003-07:00

Excuse the last week. It's really your fault. No one reminded me to write in this thing and so it totally slipped my mind. So I guess I forgive you, just don't let it happen again.
Whenever my supervisor listens to me work it's a post just waiting to be written. Let me preface this story with a couple of tidbits of information about myself. I used to do collections and I loved it. Here is why I am good at collections:
1. I have never had personal financial problems sufficient enough to make me empathize with anyone who can't pay their bills every month.
2. I can count on one finger the number of people that I care about that isn’t related to me by either blood or marriage.
3. I hate sob stories. (Complaining about why something happens doesn't do anything to fix the problem)
4. I am stubborn (like a freaking mule)
5. I love a nice justified sense of entitlement (the kind one gets when talking to someone who owes them money)

There are more reasons for which I was so successful at collections, but I will go with the above for argument's sake. I don't relate well to other people, in part because I don't really like people with my own interests (many times I find other writers to be arrogant, self absorbed, megalomaniacs who's reviews of their own talent far outweigh their actual talent), and I am a terrible liar in things that I just couldn't care less (talk to me about the weather and it's hard not to notice how visibly uncomfortable I am with a mixture of boredom and frustration).
I know that sounds selfish, but it's more that I just suck at relating to people and therefore have grown a distaste for it.
So what am I doing as an insurance agent? ...... I .....hmmm.... you got me, but really, what job to you give to a hermit?
A couple of days ago my boss was listening to one of my calls. The woman talked about an auto accident that she was involved in. She lives in Michigan and was hit by a teenage boy who was high on something (or so she says). She was hurt for a couple of weeks but all in all no long-term injuries. I expressed sympathy as best as I could and moved on to the next question.
Customer: It was awful, he was on drugs and he hit me and it hurt blah blah blah
Me: Oh that's terrible (2 second pause) what's your home phone number?
Customer: ###-###-#### and you wouldn't believe it, Michigan is a no fault state so nothing happened to him and we live in a small town and so his dad knows the judge here and he got off free and clear.
Me: That is so unfair (2 second pause) with whom are you currently insured?
Customer: You know what the worst part is?
Me: What's that (exasperated)
Customer: That my insurance had to pay for my own repairs because Michigan is a no fault state.
Me: Ya, that doesn't seem fair (2 second pause) what was your social security number again?

I thought I was doing great, I was expressing understanding and moving the conversation along. I just wanted the conversation to end so I did everything in my power to end it. I tried to be sympathetic, but there is little hiding that I just don't give a crap. I tried to sputter out some form of sympathy, but I just can't relate to people that just don't deal with it and get over it. Back to a previous post that I wrote, I think that we all feel a desire to justify ourselves to others (in this case this woman was embarrassed that she was involved in an accident and had to go out of her way to prove to me that she was not at fault). I often feel the desire to do this, but I have to constantly remind myself that no one else cares. You marry one person because they care and that is who you share all that garbage with, but remember, no one else cares, so just keep it to yourself, unless it's funny. It's okay to share tragedy if you make it entertaining, but if you are just endlessly complaining, best to keep that to yourself.
So my supervisor pulled me to his desk after the call and said that I talk to fast.....shocking! and regarding the sympathy, "just fake it." The sad part, I was faking it. I was faking sympathy as best as humanly possible. On a side note if I would have gone in the polar opposite direction and been super sympathetic and not moved along the conversation I am sure I would have been called on the carpet about not controlling the conversation and staying on topic. There is no win at work. Work is a double edged sword into which I slam my face on a regular basis.
I don't mean to sound like a selfish jerk, but.......I got nothing....

My year in review

2009-01-02T19:35:00.003-07:00

So, I don't really have any ideas with this post as I do on most others, I just saw everyone else talking about the year so I decided to do the same. A lot happened in 2008 like:..... Hmm..... 2008....2008? Nope.....nothing. Nothing of any importance whatsoever happened in 2008. It's a totally forgettable year, as a matter of fact, I have already forgotten it. Well, happy new year to you all.

The name game

2008-12-31T15:39:00.003-07:00

The word is out and the word is pregnant, specifically my wife. Some people congratulated me, some people said they were sorry (for the baby) and others just laughed at me. We have started to brainstorm names at work that will guarantee my children years of being bullied at school and millions in therapy bills after, which will be before or after they become drug addicted strippers with a third grade education. In no particular order, here is the list of the worst names for my children.

1. Louis Lewis

2. Lesbia Anna (I have run into a couple of Spanish women with this name Lesbiana is of course the Spanish word for Lesbian.)

3. Huey Lewis (his brother would be named the news and we would only introduce them together)

4. Jordan Lewis (but only if it's a girl, because naming a girl after her father is a sure fire way to confuse the crap out of her)

5. Dexter (which my wife and I actually like, but only because Dexter is the protagonist serial killer in a television show that we follow (yup, name him after a serial killer, there couldn't be anything bad that could come out of that)).

6. Maria (my wife will have to explain that one to you)

7. Sue (because Johnny Cash says so)

8. aostiuaijt; (because that was just me slamming my fists on the keyboard and not a real name, and let's admit, that's just mean, but oddly not unlike how some people choose their child's name)

9. Shitonne (I swear to you that I talked to a person with this name yesterday, it's as if their name was also what they will be in life)

10. Concepcion (because that's just disgusting)

On the flip side of the previous paragraph, I really like the name Abraham, but to make it cool, I think we would spell it Abe'rawham. It's like Jon. (no h) you know, because we are cool parents and we have to prove it through punishing our child. He could shorten his name to Abe for work and when he is with his friends they can call him Rawham because that's just cool. I have always wanted to name my child after uncooked meat. It is Abe'rawham, or Jessicoldcuts (which doesn't really have the same ring to it.)
I was going to do my year in review, but as you can see, this name thing is really taking up a lot of my time, so I will save you from the torture that is my perspective on 2008 in my life, at least until tomorrow.

...........

2008-12-26T14:12:00.002-07:00

My wife is pregnant.
She is due the first week in August.
That little thing developing inside my wife has no clue what it is about to have to deal with..... poor baby.

Everyone needs a friend on Meth

2008-12-22T15:08:00.004-07:00

I don't know if this is countrywide or not, but apparently Arizona has a huge problem with Meth. The "Arizona Drug Counsel" is sponsoring a dizzying amount of television and radio ads aimed at meth. I have never even seen meth, nor do I have any friends who have. My experience with meth is limited to commercials sponsored by the state and a conversation I overheard in an Enterprise Rent-a-Car. The conversation I heard took place almost two years ago, but it entailed a friend consoling a mother of someone who was doing meth. The mother said, "He was doing fine, and then he got into that meth stuff..." That was all I overheard, so from that I surmised that meth was a pretty amazing drug. If people would do anything and everything to get it, it has to be good. The commercials about meth have taught me that meth will make you beat and steal from your parents, trip your friend while fleeing from the police so he gets caught first and become a teenage prostitute so you and your boyfriend can support your habit.

Although all these things sound terrible, I am convinced; everyone needs at least one friend on meth. One of the radio commercials talks about this young man that sold all of his personal property, even things that meant a lot to him so he could support his addiction. Who wouldn't have loved to be this guy's best friend at that time? "Sure I'll buy your high-def TV for $25.00.... oh yes I will give you $0.35 for your CD collection. I mean that's a lot of money, but I know you need it." You may be inclined to feel guilty, but it's hard to feel bad when you are playing your new Xbox 360 that you got for $3.24 (what you had on the floor of your car at the time). I, unfortunately, have no friends on meth at the moment and am forced to pay outrageous retail prices for my goods, but what a merrier Christmas it would be, if we all had friends on meth.
Merry Christmas

I have 50,000 miles burning a hole in my pocket

2008-12-18T18:27:00.003-07:00

About a month ago I won a work contest sponsored by American Airlines. The prize was tickets to anywhere American Airlines flies within the continental United States. I was kind of bummed that Hawaii was out of the picture because that's the only place in the US that I would really like to go. Just before I turned 19 a buddy of mine said he wanted to spit off the Empire State Building. I thought that was a pretty good idea so on an impulse we drove to New York from here in Arizona. We actually drove to Washington DC first and then eventually made our way to New York. We made it from my parents' house in Mesa Arizona to a Super 8 motel in Washington DC in exactly 36 hours. There are plenty of stories from that trip, but the point is that I got a freeway view tour of almost all of the United States. I would love to go to Chicago because Abraham Lincoln is my hero and I would love to see some Lincoln museums and history, but that isn't a very expensive flight and I thought if I was getting free tickets to anywhere in the United States, I better pick the most expensive place I can think of. I then decided that I would go to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. It's not a far trip, but it would be incredibly expensive to fly in because it's such a small airport. I could then go to Yellowstone which I have always wanted to go to again as an adult and to which my wife has never been.
I went a month without hearing a word about these mysterious tickets that I had won, but today the contest correspondent lady came to my desk and informed me that I needed to make an American Airlines account because they would be crediting my account with 50,000 American Airlines Advantage miles (AAA....I smell a lawsuit). Now, I have never used program miles like this, but I was under the impression that it cost 100,000 miles for them to let you on the plane, let alone turn the engine on. Apparently 50,000 miles is enough to get me to Tokyo and back. So now I have a dilemma: I have 50,000 miles burning a hole in my pocket and I can use them to go anywhere in the world. So I present a question to you, yes you. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? I would like to rule out the United States because that is too accessible to waste on this particular opportunity. Mexico is out of the question for the same reason. I have been to Ecuador. I was thinking about a nice relaxing vacation in Iraq or Afghanistan, if nothing else, than for the story, but that probably won't happen. I have already received the suggestion for Amsterdam, but I don't do drugs and have a wife that would be relatively upset if I petitioned the company of a prostitute, no matter how legal it was. Food is a big part of my decision. I was thinking England, but decided against it because a vacation for me involves a lot of food, a lot of delicious food. I am seriously contemplating flying into Spain and spending some time there before heading to Italy for a few days. Those are two destinations that really peak my interest and I speak Spanish, so Spain would be relatively easy to go through. So I hand it over to you....... where do I go?

I don't care so much

2008-12-12T19:29:00.003-07:00

I was listening to the radio (which I always promise myself I will never do again, but time and time again, I hope that radio won't be playing the same stupid songs that it always plays) and the three songs that I could stomach before going back to a CD were all about not caring. This theme isn't anything new, we are reverting back to the early 90's which reverts us back to another time and again 10 times over. You know what, if you REALLY didn't care, you wouldn't even have written the song, it wouldn't have been recorded, it then would not have been marketed, and I wouldn't be listening to it. You know who doesn't care? No, you don't, because if they don't care, you haven't heard of them, and anyway, no one doesn't care as much as I don't care. That is why I check my blog 10 times a day for comments, that is why I cry myself to sleep because I still can't get a single soul to follow this blog. I don't care so much, I am going to get a tattoo, and I am sure that I don't care way more than you. I don't care so much that I am writing this post. I don't care more than the most. I don't even care that this just started to be a poem, it's not even a post anymore, so there! I DON'T CARE!

I don't care so much I am going to make a bumper sticker and buy a shirt. Here is a picture.

I don't care if you like it, I don't care. I don't care I don't care. (please fill out the response column below and leave a comment if you would like, but it doesn't matter because I don't care.)

Yes I know, just deal with it

2008-12-11T17:07:00.005-07:00

Okay, so the next post down is really long. I recently had to write a persuasive essay and because I have to be a satirical piece of garbage all the time and never do an assignment the way it was intended, but rather pervert it to be fun for me, this is what all of my school assignments turn in to. Keep in mind that I am happily married. I never put my real opinion into these things, but rather just focus on self deprecation and satire to the point of just being insensitively ludicrous.

Just say no

2008-12-11T17:05:00.000-07:00

Imagine for a moment that a man just lost his home, his car, his savings, and his family. Everything that means anything to this man is now gone in a flash. Was it the economy? Was it a natural disaster? No. This man got divorced. Divorce in itself is not the problem, but rather marriage is. Marriage is the leading cause of divorce. Marriage is also the leading cause of all of the life’s problems. There are many reasons to never get married including financial stability, independence, and inevitable divorce.
There is no statistic to support that there have ever been two people having the same income for their entire lives and the lack of this statistic leads one to believe that marriage is therefore entirely unjust. One “partner” will always put more into the relationship than the other. One person will bring more time, money, and effort to the contract than the other. Marriage is often referred to as a “partnership.” A partnership is defined as “A relationship between individuals or groups that is characterized by mutual cooperation and responsibility, as for the achievement of a specified goal.” (Partnership) Marriage is a lie. While it attests to be a partnership and a contract, it cannot be a true partnership because as established earlier, marriage is inherently unequal and therefore the contract terms are impossible to complete. Marriage is not fair for the one side that brings more financial stability to the contract. A community property state (which will be discussed in more detail later on) is a state in which after a marital contract has been created, each individual in the contract no longer has any private possessions, but rather they are possessions of the partnership. It is obvious to see that people’s judgment is clouded. Only under circumstances of extreme duress, extortion, or intoxication would people be foolish enough to sign a contract that relinquishes them of all of their personal property to be put into a trust and then rationed back out to them as the community sees fit. This doesn’t seem like a partnership, it seems like a cult. Individualism is sacrificed for the “greater good.” The member in the contract that brings more stability suffers by supporting the dead weight of the other member in the contract, then that person often wants to bring more people into the contract who will not provide any return (income) for at least sixteen years and in most circumstances never will these “children” bring anything but pain, suffering, and more financial instability as they present a risk that most insurance companies would shudder to accept. Financial stability is not the only thing that one will lose when they enter into a marital contract.
Independence is an inherent loss in the marital contract. The forefathers of this great country fought for independence and we slap them in the face when entering into a contract that makes us subject to the whims of another. While I certainly have my views on independence, I will let more honorable men speak for me in this section. Regarding independence, Thomas Jefferson said, “When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the […] bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation. We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.” (United)
The United States was in an unfair contract, as is the nature of the marital contract and therefore, rebelled. Even the leaders of this great nation agree that unfair contracts result in tyranny and oppression and must be avoided at all cost. Colonists separated themselves from their marriage with England, but even the separation did not end the contract they had with them; they had to divorce themselves from England and declare complete independence. Wars were fought and won so we could be independent, yet some people insist on submitting themselves to the will of tyrants. To any person who is thinking about marriage I say to you, keep your independence, appreciate it, love it, and never get married. Thomas Paine once said, “He that would make his own liberty secure, must guard even his enemy from opposition; for if he violates this duty he establishes a precedent that will reach himself.” (Thomas) According to Paine it is my duty to warn, with all the power of my being, that marriage and the relinquishment of independence will be the end of the world as we know and enjoy it. We must maintain our independence at all cost, but if someone does fall in the snare of a marital contract, there is a way out.
Like removing one’s self from a bear trap, divorce will not leave the parties unscathed, but they will be free and they will avoid the greater evil and impending doom that it offers. While in this paragraph I will attempt to demonize divorce, one needs to understand that divorce is a result of marriage and that while marriage should be avoided at all cost, divorce is the only ethical option for someone who has made the foolish decision to enter into the contract of marriage. It was discussed that in marriage all personal possessions become a single community possession, but in divorce those items are unfairly divided right down the middle as if the unfair contract were actually a partnership as opposed to what has been discussed here before. There is no penalty for the breaking of the contract, but rather rewards, depending on who ended the contract and their standing before the contract. Many marriages are entered into fraudulently so one party may exploit the divorce laws and profit. The only way to protect one’s self from the horrors or divorce is to never marry.
Sure there are many who say that marriage is the moral thing to do and that children deserve to have married parents, but I never remember asking my parents if they are married. As a matter of fact, my parents may not be married, but contracts do not dictate who we are and how we behave. Marriage will not keep bad parents from beating their children; the marital contract will not stop neglect and it will not keep parents from leaving their small children in parked cars in the Arizona heat.
Some will say that marriage is a result of love and they want to be around that person and be tied to that person. If one trusts someone, they do not need contracts to assure that they will be faithful. Marriage is a result of lack of trust. It is an unfair contract designed for people who probably wouldn’t follow it anyway. I do concede that for taxation purposes that marriage does seem like a good idea, but at the same time, I contend that the financial loss inherent in marriage is far greater than the small yearly savings through the IRS.
Marriage has too high of a cost to be seriously considered. One will lose their financial stability, their independence and divorce will ultimately ruin them. Marriage must be viewed for the unfair contract that it is and avoided at all cost.

My life as a victim

2008-12-08T19:59:00.006-07:00

My wife was reading my last post and mentioned that my remarks about my mother working with me were kind of derogatory. Let me clarify, my parents are the most hard working, incredible people and deserve nothing but admiration and respect (that should suffice).

Since I started this blog I have been fascinated (as a writer) with the genre and the style of blogs. In the last couple of weeks I have been toying around with the idea of creating a fictitious blog to do more creative writing. The character development potential is exhausting to think about and I believe I could make a character that people would actually read about, which is in stark contrast to my blog, in which only direct family show interest enough to read. (excuse the pity party)
My first task in creating this character was to decide the story he would tell. I decided that he would tell the story of murder. I had to think of something both compelling and horrifying (remember, I am writing this fictitious blog as truth. (Can you keep a secret?)) Then I had to think of what would push a man to that point. I don't want to spoil too much of the story, but I sat down recently and hammered out a single sentence for what I would like to see out of each post that I would do. I came up with 52 posts from beginning to end. While I have them in mind, I have not started writing the posts, and don't look for any for another couple of weeks. I am going to write all the posts before I start posting them, because I want it to be a daily affair and I don't want to be caught without any ideas or without time enough to write my fictitious post.
I have designed the blog already. It can be found at http://www.mylifeasavictim.blogspot.com/ . I initially wanted to call it "Killing Time," but I thought that was too obvious (remember, this guy doesn't know that he is a killer right away). I then made the blog, "My life as THE victim," but I forgot the username and password and spent an excruciating hour racking my brain without any avail for the memory.
Dave Barry's first book was called, "Big Trouble" and in the forward he said that he (Dave Barry) doesn't use vulgarity, but in writing the book he found that the characters did. (Heck ya I just quoted Dave Barry, what are you going to do about it?) I am sure that I will find the same situation true. I just can't see a man that has lost everything and is on the precipice of murder, talk like he just walked out of church.

If you have any suggestions please let me know. I have never tried to create such a developed character, but I will do my best and the best that I can hope for is to peak the interest of at least a couple of people who aren't my direct family. (no offense, I love you too)

Welcome to December and remembering how poor you are

2008-12-04T13:59:00.003-07:00

Yes, it's December and holiday cheer is being feigned everywhere. For the first time ever, I stepped outside of my house on black Friday. It was pretty much what I expected, people bumping into me at every turn and me wondering if they were trying to steal my wallet. I am not a huge fan of being touched, and when I say, "not a huge fan," I mean I get chills of discomfort when I see someone rubbing someone else's shoulders. When someone who isn't direct family touches me, a current runs from the point of contact to every part of my body and I can't help but shudder (I can shake someone's hand, but that's about the extent of it). So you can imagine that shopping with all those people bumping into me. I was shaking so much it looked like I was having a epileptic fit.
I learned my lesson, no more leaving the house.....ever, or at least not until I am the last surviving human being after a zombie apocalypse. (oh I can't wait!)
I was very fortunate growing up to see how hard work leads to success. My parents don't have the most prestigious jobs in the world, as a matter of fact, my mother works at the same place I do and ....(edited because I am writing this at work). My parents have always worked very hard. When I was born, my family lived in a duplex, we then moved to a small house, we rented a house for a short period of time before again buying a larger home. We then moved again this time to a home that we rented for a couple of years. We then moved into an apartment, my parents worked hard, we bought a house, and since then my parents have upgraded to a beautiful home at which they have stayed for the last few years. That explanation makes my family sound really transient. We are not gypsies or hobos, my family has just had to follow opportunity as it has reared its ugly head.
(back to my point) ..... back to my point........damn.... I forgot, but anyway.... my parents are cool and they taught me that working hard will get me the things that I ultimately want.... they didn't teach me how to remember why that tied in to a zombie apocalypse.... oh well, I guess I will cross that bridge when I come to it.

Things I like more than you

2008-11-29T15:17:00.008-07:00

I am a big advocate of advocating things that I like. I decided to spend a couple of minutes going over a couple of things that I think that everyone should check out. (Is anyone sick of my using the same word twice in each sentence yet? I hope so, because I sure am.)
(In no particular order)
1. http://www.retrojunk.com/
I was born in the mid 80's and I remember commercials for all the cool stuff of the day. I remember plastic Transformers toys (which were impossible to get back together once you tried to transform them) flying through the air, with the help of disembodied hands to go destroy (knock over) the enemy toys. I remember the great songs at the beginning of bad television shows, and previews to what seemed to be the coolest movie ever. Retrojunk.com has cataloged Commercials, introductions to television shows, and previews for movies by decade and then alphabetically so you can see how stupid all the crap you were so excited about, really was. It will bring back some fond memories of toys long since lost, but it will also make you feel ashamed at how excited you were over something that now seems so corny.

2. Yatzee
Yatzee?.....really? Heck ya really! You play a round of this with your spouse or friend and see if you don't want to play another. Your constant desire to beat your score and the constant being possessed by the devil and never letting you get a freaking four of a kind, of the dice will keep you playing and hating it for hours.

3. Mike Tyson's Punch Out
I have shamefully admitted this before. I play videogames, and one videogame that I seem to go back to over and over again is "Mike Tyson's Punch Out." All the fights are scripted (the opponent does the same thing at the same time) but this game is still a blast to play, and Mike Tyson is ridiculously hard. I have never beaten this game, nor have I seen it beaten, but even if you could get a single punch off, on Mike, it seemed like a win.

4. The New Dylans
In filing through my brother's CDs I found this band. I am not sure how he heard of them. I have never heard of them outside of their two CDs, but it is great. It's folksy rock with well written lyrics. I have never come across another person who has even heard of them, so I feel it my responsibility to spread the word.

5. Strangers with Candy
This show was the "After Hours, After School Special" on Comedy Central. It's essentially a satire of after school specials, but way over the top. I would advise buying all three seasons of this masterpiece, but there was a movie that came out recently as well. The movie is nothing more than a long episode so it should give anyone an accurate idea of what to expect from the series. The series stars Amy Sedaris. Stephen Colbert plays a hilarious part as a jaded teacher having an affair with the art teacher. (if Stephen Colbert helps sell it). Sex, drugs and racism (everything you would expect from a great “after-school special” are fodder for some great comedy in this underappreciated series.

6. A nice pen
This might be because I am a writer, but I have a thing with pens. I love nice pens. A nice pen can really make you feel good. It makes everything you write seem more mature, better, more rich. I notice that I have better ideas for writing when I do it with a nice pen. Everyone should own at least one nice pen. When you have to sign an important document (like a marriage certificate) you deserve better than a $0.10 Bic. Actually the document deserves better. Do it a favor and sign with a nice pen. It somehow feels more official. It feels more special.

7. Cap Guns
I didn't realize they still sold these things. I just assumed that this is one of those toys that someone used to blow their own finger off and thereby winning millions of dollars and assuring that the future generation would never know about cap guns. Sometimes I like to go into a store and look for the most random item I can find. I was in the toy section in the local Bashas and saw a cap gun. This is the kind with the roll of caps that is pushed from the orange plastic gun like receipt tape as you fire off the small circular pockets of gun powder. My friends and I used to take the cap roll and smash it with a rock, because, let's be honest, bigger explosions are way cooler.

8. Live acoustic music
As I mentioned previously, I am not a fan of karaoke, but I am a fan of one person on a bar stool with their acoustic guitar, even if that person sings worse than a drunken yodeler on her 21st birthday trying to sing Tina Turner songs. There is something simple and beautiful about this style of music, and if you are lucky, you may just hear someone with talent.

9. Showers in the dark
My favorite place to get away when life gets hectic is in my own head. I do this many different ways, but one of my favorite ways to just shut everything out is to get in the bathroom, turn off all the lights, and make sure there is no light leaking in from cracks in the door. I take a nice warm shower and just lose myself in my thoughts. It's soothing to be in pitch blackness, because your mind goes wherever it wants. Thoughts are not influenced by sight (you are not torn to how sucky your house is because you see cracks in the tile), but rather your mind is free to make natural, uninterrupted progressions. The darkness is way more soothing than the shower, but the shower helps to be relaxed as I lose myself in my thoughts.

I was going to do ten, but I was unable to think of ten things and I would rather write a good list that wasn't even, than try to think of some garbage that doesn't really deserve my endorsement (Now that's pride!).

I hate to be a bother, but your existence is embarrassing me

2008-11-22T16:11:00.003-07:00

A couple of days ago I had one of the most embarrassing experiences of my life, but first I should say that I am pretty easily embarrassed. I can't watch "The Wonder Years" for more than about 45 seconds at a time, because it is so excruciatingly embarrassing. I feel embarrassed when I feel other people should be, and because it seems more and more that people just have no sense of shame, I spend a lot of my time with my head down and cheeks flushed.
Yup, that is still very hard to watch. I just get chills and goose bumps, then I have to turn it off after only a couple of seconds.

In meetings, whether they are work, church or otherwise, I spend the time with my head tucked neatly in between my legs, embarrassed out of my mind for people who make comments, ask stupid questions or a combination of the two. So it is in this spirit of feeling the embarrassment that others feel so immune to, that my job is trying to shame me to death.
Once a year my company has a work party to show they are not the heartless zombified soul sucking vampire mutants that they appear to be throughout the rest of the year. This year they decided to have us eat at a western themed restaurant and have corresponding activities.
I don't do well with themes. As a matter of fact, I went to Outback one time and when I was forced to order the "Kangaroo Hoppin' Pork Chops" (yes, I would love to order a $21.5o piece of poorly cooked meat and have to sound like a total moron when I order it.) I decided I would never set foot in an Outback ever again (mission accomplished).
Anyway, so we go to this restaurant with sawdust on the ground, which is fine, if it weren't neatly swept into perfect squares around each table (on second thought, no, it’s never fine to have sawdust on the floor). I felt as though it would be a crime to disturb their beautiful representation of filth, but it's like not shoeing away the fly on my food because it would obstruct the overall experience they were trying to create. My boss spoke to the company using "y'all"s and other terms that mad me wish the plastic guns that the waiters carried were real so I could just unload on myself. They told us it was "chow time" using a cow bell. I felt herded. When I got there I looked at the first person I saw and said, "I could not be more embarrassed than if that had been their intent." Bless the heart of the poor employees that have to role-play for $6.00 an hour. I don't know how you do it. You must spend half your paycheck on alcohol and the other half on shame suppressants (if they don't make those then some other drug that just makes you feel nothing or not realize where you are and what horrible things you are doing.)
I spent the 4 excruciating hours sitting on a ledge looking over the city. I couldn't decide whether to throw myself off or just enjoy the view. In hindsight, I probably should have done the former. People were dressing up in old western costumes and getting their picture taken.
And then there was karaoke. You never lose respect for someone quite as fast as when you realize they have no problem making a total ass of themselves in front of hundreds of sober people. I don't drink, nor have I ever, but I can't imagine any drug that would make karaoke tolerable, let alone entertaining. I like the Smashing Pumpkins, but when I heard "Tonight" screeched out by a sales manager I hate myself, not to mention everything associated with that experience. I am sorry Smashing Pumpkins, I just can't be reminded of that experience again. I could go on for pages, but meh. No one seemed to share my anti-enthusiasm. My mom (who also works for the company) kept me sane with doses of cynicism (thank you Mom; you may have saved my life and my soul).
It's hard not to get depressed at events like this. I sit on the outside and think, "Really?....is this what life is going to be? This is the highlight of these people's year? This party that makes me want to shoot myself in the face?"

Repressed memories are like little gifts you get in therapy

2008-11-14T16:33:00.004-07:00

I won't say that I had a traumatic childhood, but maybe to someone else it would have been. For every story of playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on each other's face and the subsequent concussion, there are two stories of love and support. The stories of torture are now shared over holiday meals and card games with our wives.
Here is what I remember: I was about 5 years old. Kindergarten was great. My teacher used to give me packs of hockey cards (like baseball cards, but for crazy people who like hockey). I couldn't give a crap about any sport at the time (that hasn't changed) but they were cool and the idea that one day they would be valuable intrigued me. My family had a Nintendo with Dr. Mario(to which my parents were severely addicted (I remember trying to go to bed, unable to do so because my mom and dad were in my room playing Dr. Mario)) and a couple of other games (Super Mario 3 is still the best game ever). My childhood was a time Ghostbusters (the cartoon) Double Dare (Nickelodeon Game show), and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. (I was playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles one time and gave a flying kick the face of one of my brothers.)
Back to the story at hand: I am five and thus is my life. I am home with my brothers and my eldest brother offers me some chocolate. I hungrily take the chocolate and consume the whole bar. It didn't great, but it was chocolate and nothing will stand in between chocolate and my consumption of it (at that time). I don't remember anything after that.
What actually happened: My mother was a drug rep at the time and as such we had an abundant supply of all sorts of fun medicines, including but not limited to, X-lax. I am not sure how it comes now, but in the early 90s X-lax used to come in a series of chocolate looking cubes connected by a thin lining of more chocolate looking chalky substance. My brother wiped off the X-lax logo from the top of each cube and wrapped it in tin foil. He left the house for a few minutes saying he was going to the PDQ (the gas station near our house). He came back and offered both my older brother and I the chocolate. My older brother tasted the chocolate and realized it was disgusting and ate no more, but he didn't stop me from eating an inhuman amount of X-lax. (Thank you) The story (that will soon be told around a table at Thanksgiving) is that I had diarrhea so long that my parents almost took me to the hospital (and of course they had no idea why). It became so bad that my brother actually confessed what he had done (I don't remember, but for my brother to confess, I am sure it had to be really bad).
So what do we learn from this? Older brothers are cruel, but only because kids are stupid (specifically me). I don't know if I gave you a funny story or an idea for future shenanigans, but in any case, there are more torture stories/lessons to come.

Repressed memories

2008-11-13T18:53:00.002-07:00

I am the third of four boys in my family and as such, I have a few interesting stories about abuse (torture) that I will be sharing with everyone. I just wanted to write to let you know that I am alive and you can expect a traumatizing story from my childhood tomorrow.

Would you kiss me if I smelled like curry?

2008-11-06T13:31:00.004-07:00

I am taking Romanian 201 this semester. "Why Romanian?" You ask, because ASU apparently requires 2 semesters of another Latin based language for a Spanish degree, and Portuguese sounded to easy to me. I though Romanian would potentially teach me more about Slavic languages and thereby help me expand my language base even more...... not true. Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining, but the first day of class my teacher said, "There will be no homework, there will be no tests, and even though this is technically a Monday through Friday class, I don't want to be here on Friday, so you don't have to be here either." This is like a dream sequence from a college slacker movie. Last semester was all about movies. We watched a plethora of movies that made me never want to step foot in Romania. This semester is split in between movies that make me want to spoon my eyes out with my pencil and going out to eat. We don't eat Romanian food, rather we eat..... anything really. We went the Ethiopian restaurant a couple of weeks ago and today was the Indian buffet. Needless to say, I smell like curry. Curry is one of those smells that just stays with you. If I pass by people and they smell, it's either they didn't bath in a week, they just smoked a cigarette, or they were within a mile of curry. There is no masking it. I am going to have to take off all my clothes and burn them before I enter my house tonight. I will then take a tomato sauce bath and use a steel wool sponge to remove the first 3 layers of skin from my body. It's not that I don't like the smell of curry, but if all you could smell were roses, you would be pretty sick of roses too. The smell of curry is like mold: it sticks to anything and you may not notice it at first, but in no time it has overtaken your home and everything in it. (I need a shower)

Disclaimers give us freedom

2008-11-04T17:58:00.005-07:00

It's hard not to think about race and racism (not racist thoughts but rather thoughts on racism) today. I have gone out of my way to avoid being political and even criticize those self important blogs that think that their opinion really means anything. (I am too much of a realist to think that anything written while half awake at work, no matter how I flower it, would affect or inspire anyone or anything to do anything but laugh (I hope).
Disclaimer given, I tend to think the best of people. I don't think people are hate-filled, I think they are stupid. (and no that doesn't have anything to do with politics, just in general) A coworker was talking about the "mortgage crisis" and said, "I am no racist, but you know it was black people (whispered) that can't pay their mortgages." I am no judge of character, but you are a retard. I think it's funny that people believe if they put a disclaimer in front of what they are going to say and then whisper whatever contradicts their disclaimer that what they say is just fine. I am no anti-Semite, but the Jews (whispered) will be the end of this world with their bagel eating, Hollywood owning, only look out for their own, big noses, oh but I am no anti-Semite.
Don't reach too far into this post to take out your preconceived political biases. The post is just about what it is about and nothing more.
Off topic:
As a writer I hate literature classes, because I think that we make geniuses out of average writers by looking too hard for deep meaning. Nothing makes me want to take a gun to my face like a poetry unit in school. I have no prejudices, but it's always some hippie princess who hasn't showered or shaved in months and while the real world escapes her, it's fine because she wants to live in nature with her books and weed.

I wouldn't make you cry if your tears didn't taste like chocholate

2008-11-03T15:33:00.004-07:00

I wish I had a post to go along with that title, but I don't. I was driving to work and I thought of the title. I think it's hillarious, but I don't really have any life experiences to share that tie in, but I will probably use it in some unusually cruel poetry.
I will write a longer post in a day or so (get off my back), but for now, I just wanted to share the title more than anything (and this very creepy picture).

Sorry, we don't validate

2008-10-31T15:19:00.004-07:00

My wife and I had very similar experiences a couple of days ago. My wife was in her English 101 class when the teacher dismissed the class for a 10 minute smoke break. My wife doesn't smoke, but she stepped outside and was greeted by a young woman (class mate) from Spain. It is very difficult for educated people to come to the United States from other countries, because their years of education mean nothing. I know a pair of botanists from Mexico that stock shelves together at a bay area Wal-Mart. The closest thing they get to their field of study is when they have to throw out the spoiled produce. It's hard to take the same classes again, or worse, to take classes that make you feel stupid because they are so far below where you should be in school. People in these circumstances sometimes have a hard time, because they want to feel better than the students around them. They want to let everyone know that they don't "need" this class, but rather "have to take it" because of social injustice. This was the conversation that my wife had with the young woman from Spain. Apparently she had taken years of college in Spain and wanted my wife to know how much smarter she was than anyone else in the class and she didn't need the class because she is so smart and had gone to so much school in Spain (I am repeating myself because that's what this type of person does..... they drone on and on and on about how much smarter they are) They don't dare want to be dumped into the same classification as the idiots that actually need the English coarse. They need to feel validated, but sorry, we don't validate here. My wife also took two years of college before she came to the United States, but instead of being a topper, she listened and thought, "WOW, I sound like this when I complain about having to take the same classes again?!..."
I work on the phones and being on the phones, I can't see the person with whom I am speaking (shocking right?). Because I can't see the person and the person cannot see me, they feel an inherent desire to differentiate themselves from the other people that they believe I speak to. True example: A doctor calls me and spends more time talking about what kind of doctor he is and how much better he is for going to college than me. Of course he doesn't know that I am currently in college, but he has to feel special. I know that's why I am going to post graduate school, to feel special and to rub other people's nose in it. "I am a lawyer, which means I am better than you; you can refer to me at Mr BAR certified Lewis thank you. (or big douche, whichever you prefer)
Trying to differentiate one's self just makes them sound desperate no matter how much education they have (validate me, validate me, I went to school for a long time, please recognize me). So let me be the first to apologize, "sorry, we don't validate."