I'll sniff yours, if you sniff mine.

I've been badgering my wife to start her own blog for a week now. Of course, me being the poster boy of blogging waiting 5 years between posts, I figured I'd put my money where my mouth is and post the stuff she should be posting.

First off, there is nothing original about blogging nowadays. Everybody links to everybody else and then sue each other for ripping the other one off. It's really what makes free enterprise work. So without further ado, here's some shit I ripped off of my wife who ripped it off somewhere else.

Be amused.

Salt n' Pepa Heyah!
They come in all sorts of shapes and sizes like ice cream cones, pigs, teardrops, loops, hearts, and weebles. Oh and in case you're practicing on being a 700 lb. shut-in, here's something that will help you not exercise. (It'll help you if you're just not big enough to be on The Biggest Loser.)

Instead of giving you a real gift, I made a donation in your name to a shitty organization you don't believe in.
This really happened to a friend of mine. He works publicity for a major company who used to have a very tight relationship with another well-known company known here as "Company B." And of course when Christmas comes around, companies like to shower the people they feel that count with gifts. One year, instead of getting some cool swag from Company B, he received a card with a note inside. It said that they have given an amount in his name to several charities run by the Church of Scientology. So now he will be forever linked to having given an undisclosed amount of money to the Church of Scientology.

Don't let this happen to you!! Don't give shitty notes to your underlings wasting money on charities they sure as hell probably don't care about!! But if you're a cheap prick and you're going to do it anyway, here's a list of charities that might not suck.

My friend preferred the gift he got the year before. A plaque with some sort of commandments to the same church. Huzzah.

Geekologie Rocks My Jock!
It's one of those sites where I check back into every once in a while and I'm always amazed and delighted. The current list of awesomeness includes Yoda Pizza, Flux Capacitors, Tetris, Liquid Sculptures, Pac-Man, Thor's Helmet, and Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots. Never say I didn't get you anything for Christmas.

Things I'm All About.
Click on them, fool!

Well, that's it for now. I need to be doing something better with my time. Like do stuff.

xxxxxx: This coffee tastes like ass.
xxxxxxx: But I like ass.
(Overheard at a job I had some time ago.)

I'm currently working at a place where coffee is made once and only once a day. They brew it into one of those pumped containers you see at Coffee Bean which is constructed in a way that you can't put the travel mug you bought from Coffee Bean underneath it. So you get the paper cut and are faced with immediate shame from a sign glaring at you asking you to be "more green." By the time, I get to have a cup, there's three ounces left that I hold like a starving African child holding onto a cup of rice. The coffee I covet is moderate but compared to the cup of coffee I had at home this morning, it tastes like dirty bathwater with sugar and cream. Imagine brushing your teeth, then drinking orange juice. Yeah, that taste. Just makes your intestines feel like they survived being dragged across broken glass. The coffee I had tasted like wet cigarettes.

Well, at least the coffee was made by someone who actually drinks coffee. I have had to work with not one but three people under me that don't drink coffee. This comes into play when it comes to making coffee. Look, I'm not the best boss in the world. I'm all buddy buddy and let you walk all over me type, but I do stand on the doctrine that dictates that lowest man on the totem pole makes the coffee. Now, if they don't drink coffee, it's safe to say they don't know how to make coffee. In most cases, you will endure one of the following three experiences. (1) The coffee is so light you can see the girl's number on your hand from three nights ago through it. This is usually caused because that person equated one plastic sporkful equals one cup of coffee. One cup of coffee doesn't even equal one cup of coffee. (2) The coffee's so thick you can use it to tar the driveway. This happens after you bitch that the coffee was too light and then threw the scalding pot of coffee in his or her face. (D) The coffee is filled with coffee grounds from overfilling the filter. You spend the rest of the day picking out granules from your teeth.

At home, my wife and I have her French press to make coffee. The reason for this is that we couldn't fit it in with the gynormous convection/toaster over/broiler that's just shy of having trivection. (More on that another day.) They're not that expensive and just require you to boil your water separately and then pour it in, wait for seven minutes and pour. It does taste pretty damn fine which of course sets me up for failure later on in the day. You can say "why don't you just not drink coffee." Sir, I say, I can barely stay awake as it is. Speaking of which, time for my mid-afternoon nap.

from the diary of Christopher Walken
"Woke up in Mexico this morning. Funny as I don't know how I got here. (Robert) Mitchum meets me at the door and tells me that our wallets have been stolen and that we need to callthe set so they can arrange for new passports as we are changing locations tonight. I wrap myself in a sheet from the bed and walk out with him. It's gotta be 1 in the afternoon. We catch a cab and share what's left of the booze I found in the minibar. This reminds me of the time I was in New Hampshire shooting a movie and the same thing happened to me then."