WTF???

Several things are troubling me:

1) Do you ever go to a store like Home Depot, buy a couple of things (light bulbs, batteries, etc.), and when you try to walk out the door after paying... a security guard stops you like you have a pound of crack cocaine hidden in your colon? Gee Officer, what can I do for you? You'd like to see my receipt? I have no problem with that. I might quietly point out that if you hadn't been flirting with the toothless woman selling hot dogs, you might have noticed that a mere four steps from our current location, I just paid for these items... but, here is my receipt. Umm, I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, but all you did was make a small squiggle mark. You didn't even inspect the contents of my bag! Is it totally unreasonable to suggest that the "security" guard do something... ANYthing... that in any way makes the products that he's protecting even the slightest bit more secure?!?

2) It is so cold in Chicago right now, that my dogs won't even take a shit outside. Normally they love to run around outside like it's their last day of freedom. I can't say that I entirely blame them. I wouldn't be excited about taking my pants off in -40 degree weather either. I feel so badly for them. I try to imagine squatting barefoot on a massive block of ice. I think I would look up at my parents with the same pathetic look. I wish I could help you guys.

3)

Is it really necessary that Jennifer Aniston continue to get hotter every couple of years? Jesus.

4) According to Sports Illustrated, "the Yankees have reached an agreement in principle to sign Mark Teixeira, beating out the rival Red Sox for the free-agent slugger's services. Teixeira, who hit .308 with 33 home runs and 121 RBIs in 2008, will receive an eight-year, $180 Million deal from the Yankees with a full no-trade provision." That's $22.5 Million per year. It would certainly appear that the current economic meltdown is not affecting Mark Teixeira. Fuck that guy.

Vegas Baby, Vegas!!

Sorry that I haven't posted anything in a few days, but at least I have a good excuse. I was in Vegas!! Without hesitation, Vegas is one of my favorite places in the world. I've been going roughly 2-3 times a year for almost 10 years now. Despite the extensive experience that I now have with Vegas, there were several things that still made no sense to me:

1) I play a lot of poker when I'm in Vegas; not just a few hours here and there. In the first 24 hours that I was in Las Vegas, I played roughly 16 hours of poker. If you watch poker on TV, you might notice a couple differences between the professional players and me. First of all, I don't wear sunglasses. Know why? Because poker is played inside. Wearing sunglasses to play poker is like wearing an athletic cup to read a book. Why don't you take off the glasses and try to enjoy yourself a little bit dickbag. Second, I don't wear headphones at the table. Know why? Because then you can't hear anything else. Maybe these idiots should have played a little less Dungeons & Dragons as a kid; could have helped their people skills.

2) I really can't understand why someone would actually be reading Card Player Magazine... while sitting at a poker table. There can be only 3 reasons that someone would do this:
- They want me to think they're a really good poker player. That way, I might be scared of them and if they make a bet I might fold.
- They want me to think they're a really bad poker player. That way, I might try to bet too aggressively because I think they're dumb and if they actually have a good hand, I might lose.
- They're a really big fucking loser.

3) So I was sitting at the table playing poker and made what I considered to be a relatively funny remark. Some guy two seats to my left responded by spitting his drink all over the poker table. Faux pas! Towels were used; cards were replaced; poker chips were dried off. If you can't handle something as sophisticated as drinking a beer, maybe you shouldn't be gambling for money at 4am. What's worse than spitting your drink out all over a poker table? Two hours later, when you spit out your drink again... all over the unlucky guy writing this blog. That's right, twice in one sitting this douchebag spit out his drink again because he was choking. Putz.

4) By the end of my marathon poker session, I was tired. Ok, that's an understatement. My body was so messed up that I was actually shaking. I had been awake for over 40 hours straight and I felt like my internal organs were probably going to start shutting down. At one point, I happened to be sitting there when something came out of nowhere and hit my ear. I practically fell out of my chair. I was pretty shaken up by the whole thing... until I realized that the culprit was my own finger. Yep, time for bed.

5) Why is that restaurant hostesses are beyond awful and writing down my name? What is your job? Writing down people's names! That's all you do! Isn't there some kind of test for this? If you can't routinely retain a 5-letter name, I think you might want to look into a slightly less difficult line of work... perhaps working at a toll booth?
- Stupid Hostess: "Can I get your name sir?"
- Victim: "Hearn. H. E. A. R. N."
- Stupid Hostess: "H. A. R..."
- Victim: "Nope. H. E. A. R. N."
- Stupid Hostess: "H. A..."
- Victim: "Are you kidding me right now? HEARN. Not HARN. H. E. A. R. N."
- Stupid Hostess: "H. E... what was next sir?"
- Victim: "You know what, I'm too tired for dinner anyway."

6) By Monday morning, I was so physically wrecked, that I probably needed to go home for health reasons. Obviously, I was devastated to be leaving... but one thing made it tolerable (other than seeing my family, of course). Betting on Monday Night Football :)

The Otto Conundrum

For those of you that did not read my previous blog post, please take a minute and read it (along with the comments) before reading this post... otherwise you will probably be more than a little bit confused.

Now that you're all caught up, let me explain my predicament because I am truly torn. It seems relatively clear to me that Otto is a conscientious Snapfish employee that was doing his best to handle what he perceived as "a difficult customer". The part of me that strives to be a good person and a good role model for my daughter knows that it is probably wrong to pick on Otto for essentially trying to do his job well.

The other part of me simply can't help thinking that this is some really funny shit.

Otto's post raises several interesting points that don't really make sense to me:

1) How in hell did Otto find my blog in the first place?? When I had my online conversation with Subhash, I never gave him my full name and my full name does not appear anywhere on my blog. As far as I can tell, there are only two viable scenarios. Either Snapfish has so much cash that they can afford to have people randomly searching the internet for bad publicity (Please see #2 for additional thoughts on this), or Otto has way too much time on his hands and decided to troll the internet in case some of his "difficult customers" just happen to have blogs.

2) Otto suggests that Subhash went out of his way to offer me 30 free credits and Sara went out of her way to offer to personally hand write a note for me. Well, let's take it slow and really examine how far out of their way each employee actually went. A 4x6 print costs $0.09 on Snapfish. So, when Subhash offered me 30 free prints, he basically offered me $2.70. Now, if Snapfish is so well off that they can really afford to have people searching the internet for bad publicity, $2.70 seems like a pretty shitty offer. I think we can all agree that the notion of not allowing a customer to attach a gift card to a gift is complete and utter lunacy for an online retailer, so I'm sorry Otto, but I don't think that $2.70 scratches the surface. I personally think that a sushi dinner was warranted. What incredible customer service! They would have bought a dedicated customer for life. Oh well. As for Sara, let's be honest about that too, shall we? She didn't "offer" to do anything; she accepted my offer to hand write the note. It was my suggestion! And, when I suggested that beginning the note with "Dear so and so" was not as cordial as actually using my friend's name... she terminated the conversation. I would have to disagree with Otto that she went out of her way at all.

3) How many times can a man use a wink face in an email to another man before it starts to get a little creepy? If you look at Otto's post, he winks at me two different times. There are people that I've known for years that I wouldn't feel comfortable winking at in an email, much less posting in a comment on their blog. But, even though Otto and I are only friends through Subhash, he felt at ease enough with me to wink at me twice. Creepy or endearing? You decide.

4) Given that Otto seemed to have been doing some checking on me, I thought it only appropriate that I do some checking on Otto. I clicked on Otto's blogspot profile and found that he keeps two blogs of his own! They are entitled "My Private Blog" and "Debauchery SF". Unfortunately, since I originally checked out the content of these blogs, Otto has decided to make them private. Let me simply tell you that Otto has some very interesting personal tastes and he couldn't possibly be offended by my usage of the word "Fuck" as the subject of my last blog entry. Shame Otto, shame.

As I said initially, I think Otto was honestly trying to do his job. He perceived me as "a difficult customer", which I may very well have been. However, it is equally likely that I was justified in being pissed off at Snapfish and that I don't feel like they helped at all. Throwing $2.70 at an unhappy customer is a joke. Accepting an offer to hand write a note and then ending the conversation during the drafting portion of the note writing is rude and insulting.

As for me taking the opportunity to pick on Otto a little bit... don't feel bad Otto. You fell victim to one of the classic blunders:

1) Never fight a land war in Asia.
2) Never go up against a Sicilian when death is on the line. (Only slightly less well known)
3) Never post a serious comment on someone's blog, when the whole purpose of the blog is to make fun of stuff.

Geez Snapfish! (see comments for why this has been changed to "Geez")

So I'm trying to order a birthday present for the two-year old daughter of a friend of mine. Snapfish offers some really cool books for kids, where you can import a picture of the kid that will then appear as a character in the book.

Despite these books being called "Specialty Gifts", it is apparently impossible to send them with a gift card or any kind of note that lets the gift-ee know who the gift-or is. Seriously? You mean to tell me that it never occurred to the brain trust at snapfish, that someone might want to give their gift... as a gift?!? Lucky for me, snapfish does offer excellent customer support. They let you chat with a customer service representative (named Subhash) on their website. I'll copy and paste the whole chat. It's a little long, but I tried to make it as entertaining as possible:

Subhash: Hi. Welcome to Snapfish Live Help. How may I help you please?

Adam: I'm trying to order the "baby's first birthday" book. Is there any way for me to add a gift message to the order?

Subhash: Please note that while you are trying to place an order you will find "free gift message" link. If you find that then you can add a gift message. Otherwise it is not possible to add a gift message to your order.

Adam: "If I find that"? Fun, I like puzzle games. But, alas, I cannot find it... so does that mean that I cannot add a gift message to this specialty gift?

Subhash: I certainly regret any inconvenience this may have caused.

Adam: Really, the only inconvenience is how NOT helpful this is... why would you have a "SPECIALTY GIFT" where I can't include a gift message??

Subhash: I am sorry, there is no free gift message note for picture me books. Is there anything else I might assist you with today?

Adam: Do you think you provided me with good customer service today?

Subhash: I am sorry, if I have disappointed you in some way.

Adam: I am very disappointed

Subhash: Please accept my sincere apology for any inconvenience you experienced.

Adam: I do not accept your apology.

Subhash: Ok I will forward your request to our appropriate department.

Adam: Can you offer me something else?

Subhash: Due to this inconvenience I have issued 30 4x6 print credits to your Snapfish account.

Adam: That really doesn't help me. Here is what I want from you: dinner for two at a sushi restaurant in Chicago.

Subhash: I am sorry, but the gift message note is not available for book orders.

Adam: You already said that. What about giving me a gift certificate to a restaurant? When I upset my wife, she makes me take her out for a nice dinner. I think it is the least you can do.

Subhash: I am sorry, i cannot provide you that.

Adam: Why not?

(Please wait while your chat is transferred to Sara. You are now chatting with Sara.)

Sara: Hi Adam. I am sorry that you are upset. Is there something else we can assist you with today?

Adam: I was suggesting a sushi dinner.

Sara: We are a photo site, not a sushi restaurant. He has issued you 30 print credits. Is there anything else we can asssit you with today?

Adam: I don't think that 30 print credits properly compensate me for the frustration of not being able to tell a gift recipient that the gift is from me.

Sara: Thank you for your suggestion. I apologize for the frustration.

Adam: Subhash already apologized. Could you send a letter from Snapfish to the people that I'm sending the gift to?

Sara: There are plenty of cards you can create on our site that are perfect for this occasion should you wish to create one and alert your gift recipient.

Adam: I'm asking if you could personally send a note on Snapfish letterhead. I think it would go a long way towards making everything ok.

Sara: Sure...

Adam: Really? What would it say?

Sara: Dear so and so...then whatever you would like me to say.

Adam: Hmm. Well, maybe start it with "Dear Jason" because that is his name.

(Session terminated by customer service representative)

Notes From the Holidays

Hopefully everyone had a terrific Thanksgiving holiday! Shockingly, there were some things that happened over the long weekend that made no sense to me:

1) During all of the football on Thanksgiving, there was a commercial that had people giving testimonials about something. Underneath their faces, a caption was displayed: "Real People, Not Actors". Hmmm. Couple things. First of all, even actors are real people. Second, this commercial didn't have a director? These were regular people who just happened to find themselves in front of a camera and nailed unscripted lines on the first take? You think maybe they were real people AND they were acting?

2) Because of the Thanksgiving holiday, I commuted from Chicago to Deerfield three times in three days. With a baby and two dogs in the car. To say the least, by Saturday morning my driving nerves were a little shot. That said, does the asshole behind me really have to start honking 0.2 milliseconds after the green arrow appears at the intersection?? Look dick, I promise that you are not in a bigger hurry than I am. If you are really having a panic attack that I'm not already slamming on the gas, how about you leave a few minutes earlier? God forbid you wait an extra 30 seconds to get back to Bubbie and Zadie's house for your seventh round of leftovers. Douche.

3) My wife wants a new pair of boots. They cost $325. I told her that unless they are made of unicorn dick, they can't possibly be that expensive. I have no real story here, but the reality of how rare and valuable unicorn dick must be, continues to crack me up.

4) For several months, there have been two assholes playing catch with a football in the street in front on my apartment. In Chicago, there are cars on every street. On my street, cars are parked bumper to bumper on both sides of the street. The problem here is that these guys suck at catch. One of them drops every third ball. What happens then? Right, the ball slams into someone's car. Here's what makes no sense. I can't do anything about it. If I go out there and ask them to please stop hurting cars, I basically show them that I'm a vagina. If I call the cops about the two dipshits playing in the street, the cops will hang up on me. It's fucking annoying to know that my car is going get hit with a football and I can't stop it. And if the two of you dick bags happen to read this, go to a fucking park already.

5) Last night, my wife and I ordered dinner from Penny's Noodle Shop. As always, we got chopsticks with our meal. For no particular reason, I happened to read what was written on the outside of the chopsticks. Here it is, in its glorious entirety:

"Welcome to Chinese Restaurant. Please try your Nice Chinese Food With Chopsticks the traditional and typical of Chinese glorious history. and culture"

That's what it says. Presumably, at some point someone with a 1st Grade education has actually been consulted on the packaging for chopsticks. Additionally, I'm assuming that because this product is used in the United States, someone who actually understands English was involed in the original Chopsticks Think Tank. First and foremost, stop capitalizing everything! Next, don't build up "chopsticks" as "the traditional and typical _____", without telling me what you really think it is! And stop putting periods two words before the end of the sentence. Hey Chopsticks people, I'm all for America being the melting pot, but you make it pretty fucking hard to keep siding with you.

24

No, not the show. And for those of you that knew me in junior high, not the math game either. I'm talking about the last 24 hours. Not the best day. Here's why:

1) I'm hungover. When I was in college, hangovers were pretty common so I kind of got used to them. I think the problem is that I'm extremely out of practice. A bunch of my co-workers went out for Happy Hour last night. Somehow that turned into 8 hours of beer and scotch. I think I speak for my liver when I say, "OUCH! What the hell are you doing?? Do you think you're still 19? Do us a favor and act your age asshole. And while we're talking, why do you always end up with nachos on your shirt at the end of a night of drinking? Slob. And stop burping. Every time you burp, you smell like the alley behind a Binny's."

2) I'm broke. Remember in college when you would go out for dinner with about 35 people and after passing the check around and collecting money from everyone, you were about $300 short of the necessary amount? When I go out drinking now, that phenomenon has evolved. The bill was $200 and four people split it. I look in my wallet this morning and see that I spent about $250. I need Stephen Hawking to explain how in hell that is possible.

3) Fuck United Airlines! Can someone please explain to me how they're still screwing me years after they declared bankruptcy? Back in February, we booked tickets on United to fly from Chicago to West Palm Beach in December. In August, United had the decency to call and let us know that they were discontinuing all direct flights to and from West Palm Beach. Since they no longer serviced our destination city, we had to switch our nonstop flights into one-stop flights that end up in Miami; a two hour drive from West Palm Beach. This morning, I got a call that our return flight is now getting in at 7:15pm on New Year's Eve. Of course, that means that my dogs will have to spend two extra nights being boarded, which amounts to an extra $150. I'm expecting United to call me in a few weeks and let me know that New Year's Eve has been canceled this year; they're reposessing my car; and that I am long over due for a rectal exam. Bastards.

Sorry, sorry, sorry

I know. It's been a week since my last post. I'm sorry. The truth is, it's a lot harder than I thought it would be to come up with new things to write about every day or two. Sometimes it's easy because I'm out in the world, observing all the stupid things that happen every day. But, some weeks I tend to be home more and I don't see as much. However, as it's been a full week now, I've stored up a few different things that I can mention:

1) The Biggest Loser. If you don't watch the show, then just skip to #2. If you do watch the show, then I hope you can agree with me that Vicky is the biggest bitch to be on television since Omarosa was on The Apprentice. As inspiring as the show can be, is it wrong that I hope she actually gains weight? As a general rule, I try not to wish for bad things to happen, but just look at her:
She is Satan incarnate! Every time she speaks, I want to turn the television off. Every time she gives one of those shit-eating grins, I want to slap her in the mouth. It can't possibly be a coincidence that she was on the brown team. What a complete piece of shit. I'm just saying.

2) So I'm at the gym yesterday and I see a guy walk over to one of the weight machines; with a full mountain climber backpack on. This was intriguing, so I keep an eye on him for a couple minutes. He takes the backpack off, fills it up with as many weight plates as possible, and then starts to lift weights for a few minutes. Then, with the backpack on, he goes and runs on a treadmill. SERIOUSLY?? People like this completely piss me off. These are the people that have so many high school credits that they start college as a junior. These are the people that have multiple post-graduate degrees and also write a book in their spare time. These are the people that make me feel guilty even though I'm actually at the gym. Jackass.

3) We had our groceries delivered last night from Peapod. I forgot to order oatmeal. Now I have a ridiculous decision to make. Do I place another Peapod order and only buy oatmeal? That seems crazy because I would be paying a $7 delivery fee for only one item. My otherwise cheap oatmeal would then cost more than a 4-egg omelet. Or, do I go to the grocery store to buy oatmeal? Well that seems crazy because if I was going to go the grocery store, we shouldn't have ordered from Peapod in the first place. I wonder what Jesus would do.

4) My daughter has a new trick. She wakes up at 5am and cries for the full hour until we have to get up. It's awesome. If she can learn to wake up at the exact same time everyday with Swiss-like precision, why can't she learn to wake up when we do? She's on my list.

** Note to my daughter: I still love you :)

Nursery Porn

Yes, you read the title correctly. My daughter is four months old and we have a huge quantity of books that we constantly read to her. One book in particular, caught our eye yesterday. Originally published by Barnes & Noble in 2003, First Rhymes is "A delightful collection of timeless rhymes - perfect for young children everywhere."

The book contains classic nursery rhymes that we all remember from childhood; Humpty Dumpty, Mary Had a Little Lamb, Jack Be Nimble, Old Mother Hubbard... you get the idea. Some of the rhymes are a little more obscure. If you had the book in front of you, I would direct you to page 38, to read a lovely little rhyme called "I Love Little Pussy":

I LOVE LITTLE PUSSY
I love little pussy,
Her coat is so warm,
And if I don't hurt her
She'll do my no harm.

I think I speak for all the parents out there when I say, WHAT THE FUCK?!? I have a few issues:

1) Who the hell wrote this? Could anyone possibly have been living in 2003 and not have heard the word "pussy" used to refer to a vagina? If you surveyed the 300,000,000 people living in the United States, I'm guessing that roughly no one would find this rhyme "delightful", "timeless", or "perfect for young children". I'm guessing that everyone would in fact find this rhyme "creepy", "pedophile-ish", and "hopeless".

2) What the hell does this poem mean? As far as I can tell, there are only two possibilities. First, this poem could have been written by a kind and decent person (albeit horribly misguided) who had something interesting to say about cats. In that case, the poem is clearly meant to minimize physical violence towards cats. Second, this poem could have been written a total sexual deviant who felt it necessary to warn small children against intentionally injuring other people's vaginas. Either way, I think the author needs to work on understanding their audience a little better.

3) How the hell does this get published? Shame on you Barnes & Noble. Here's a crazy suggestion. Have someone read the stuff you're going to sell in your stores, BEFORE you publish it. Additionally, I would suggest that this person have a background check and have at least successfully completed their freshman year of high school.

Priceline.com

Have you ever made travel reservations through priceline? It's relatively convenient, right? You know what else is convenient? Open-heart surgery. My wife made a reservation through priceline to stay at a hotel for one night this Saturday. Subsequently, she found a nicer hotel and wanted to cancel the priceline reservation. Being a wonderful husband (and a complete idiot), I offered to take care of this problem for her, especially because she bought the $5 "Travel Insurance" that priceline offers. Have you ever tried to change or cancel a reservation made through priceline? I would rather give myself a colonoscopy than have to deal with these people again. I'll summarize the process because it makes no sense to me:

1) When you make a priceline reservation online, you get a confirmation email. In the email, you are given your 11-digit "Request Number", and a phone number to call if you want to speak with a customer service representative. So, I called the toll-free number. The recording gives you two options: press 1 to enter your Request Number; press 2 to enter the seventh circle of hell. After pressing 1, I entered the Request Number. "We're sorry, but we do not recognize that number. Please try again." WHAT? You sent me the number in the first place! How could you not recognize it; you generated it! Do you think I made it up? Are there people out there with nothing better to do than randomly guess at 11-digit Request Numbers in the hope that they might stumble on to someone else's luxury priceline reservation that they can fuck with? The email should say, "here is a toll-free number you can call if you want to get dicked around for an hour and end up completely pissed off because your credit card was already charged, moron."

2) After attemtping to enter the Request Number the fifth time, I hung up and went to priceline.com to look for answers. I was able to find a different toll-free number to call. I got excited as I was dialing, and then realized that the number fed into the same worthless automated system as the first number. Glad you people spent the money to set up a website that was so helpful. Maybe next time you could use some of that cash and hire people with it.

3) Through what I can only describe as a combination of divine intervention and sheer willpower, I actually managed to find the one telephone option that said it would direct me to an operator. After entering my wife's phone number, date of travel, city of travel, birthdate, maiden name, hair color, credit card used for the reservation, preferred pizza toppings, and dental records, I was put in the "queue". Fuck off. How about you say "line" like everyone else from the country I'm calling from. Calling it a "queue" in no way disguises how ghetto your customer service line truly is.

4) When Derrick actually answered the phone, I started crying. The conversation went like this:

Derrick: May I help you sir?
Me: I sincerely doubt it.
Derrick: Let me try.
Me: Can you tell me what "Travel Insurance" covers?
Derrick: We offer Travel Insurance?
Me: Let me ask you something. Does priceline have any living employees?
Derrick: Huh? Look, let me do some checking. (Ten minutes later...) You have to call the insurance company directly and file a claim with them.
Me: Of course I do. Thanks for everything. Really.

What's nice about all of this is that priceline has really gone out of their way to make travel even more agonizing than it already was. In addition to not having food on the plane, being charged for brining luggage and not being able to travel with more than a tablespoon of shaving cream... it's comforting to know that the average traveler can get shat on (obligatory William Shatner reference) in ways they never imagined.

FLU SHOTS DON'T WORK!

Yesterday, I got the flu shot for the first time in my life. Today, I learned that this might have been a horrible mistake. If we are to believe the woman that I just spoke with at lunch, then the unfortunate truth is that the flu shot is ineffective at preventing influenza. Rather than trying to put some funny spin on the conversation, I thought I would show you exactly how the dialogue went... because it made absolutely no sense to me:

Me (talking to the two friends I was with): "I just got my flu shot."

Brilliant doctor pretending to be a lowly cashier at a shitty restaurant: "I don't know why you did that."

Me: "I'm going to go out on a limb and say that it was to prevent the flu."

Brilliant doctor pretending to be a lowly cashier at a shitty restaurant: "They don't work. I don't care how you look at it."

Me: "Well, what if we look at it medically?"

Brilliant doctor pretending to be a lowly cashier at a shitty restaurant: "They don't work."

Me: "Ok, how do you know?"

Brilliant doctor pretending to be a lowly cashier at a shitty restaurant: "Because I used to never get the flu. Then one time I got a flu shot and three months later I got the flu."

Me: "I'm not positive, but I think science typically strives for a slightly larger sample size than just you."

Brilliant doctor pretending to be a lowly cashier at a shitty restaurant: (Blank stare)

Me: "Damn, I wish I had talked to you yesterday before I got my flu shot; the pain in my arm could have been avoided."

I'm not sure why this woman thought that it was ok to interject her slightly under-qualified medical opinion into my bitching and moaning. Additionally, I can't fathom why she believed that the "evidence" she presented was persuasive in any way. That's like saying toilets don't work because one time a toilet somewhere got clogged and didn't flush properly. Most importantly, if she actually believes that she's right, why isn't she out there spreading the word? That's just plain selfish.

** Note to my daughter: Don't believe everything you hear.

Crap!

Few things in life are more irritating to me than stepping in a big pile of dog crap. Invariably, when this happens to me, several things leap to mind:

1) I feel like I am the only person I know that actually steps in crap. Why do I think this? Because I NEVER hear anyone else complain about it. When I step in crap, I tend to bitch for weeks. I don't hear anyone else do this so I can only assume that everyone else is much better at avoiding the crap than I am.

2) Why am I always wearing shoes that have an infinite number of nooks and crannies when I step in crap? Why do shoe-makers even design shoes with that quantity of ridges? Are they taunting me? It is virtually impossible to clean crap off of the bottom of a shoe. Water doesn't work. Paper towels don't work. I think shoe designers sat down and tried to conceive of a shape that would be impervious to all de-crapping attempts. Especially when you factor in the arch of the shoe which renders the bottom un-scrapeable, they have done their job extremely well.

3) I would rather go out and buy a brand new pair of shoes than go through the agony of trying to clean the crap off my shoes.

4) Have you ever tried to clean crap off of your shoes? It's not like you can just run inside and clean them off; you'll get crap on the carpet in the hallway and then on the floor. So, what do you do? You try to clean them with whatever is around. Of course, there is never an appropriately sized stick, so I end up using twigs that break immediately, leaves, or rocks and berries. Not only do I feel like I'm on an episode of Survivor, but I have really only succeeded in pushing the crap deeper into the ridges on the shoe.

5) I would rather be barefoot when I step in crap, than be wearing a pair of shoes with ridges. At least I could easily clean off my feet.

6) After swearing for fifteen minutes and unsuccessfully trying to clean off my shoes, I notice that there are little red and yellow pieces of plastic in the crap. Hmm, my dog eats a toy that is red and yellow. That means I stepped in his pile.

CRAP!

Daylight Savings

Now that the election is over, maybe we can get back to talking about some of the really important things that have been neglected and/or overlooked for far too long. Last Saturday night was when everyone should have set their clocks back one hour for Daylight Savings Time (DST). It was my wife that helped me see that a few things about DST make absolutely no sense:

1) DST is essentially the practice of setting our clocks back one hour in the fall and setting them forward one hour in the spring. The original rationale for doing this was that there would be more hours of daylight for outdoor leisure activities and that businesses (especially agriculture) would benefit because consumers/workers are out more during the day. I wonder if anyone considered the possibility of simply waking up an hour earlier or later? Rather than suggesting that people simply set their clock differently, people actually thought it made sense to coordinate an international campaign to officially change time twice a year? Every year?? Here's a thought: maybe every person could also pick their own time zone. That would probably be easier than doing it geographically.

2) Arizona and Hawaii do not participate in DST. Really? 48 states, almost all of Europe, and countries on every other continent take part in DST. For some reason, Arizona and Hawaii thought they would make the otherwise-simple process of shifting time twice a year, a little more complicated. If you travel to Arizona throughout the year, not only do you have to remember whether it is one or two hours behind Chicago, but it also depends on what month you travel because sometimes they are the same time as Chicago because they opt out of DST. Great system. Maybe you guys in AZ could start your alphabet with the letter N instead of A for six months of the year? Assholes.

3) According to Wikipedia, the prominent English builder and outdoorsman William Willett conceived DST in 1905 during a pre-breakfast ride, when he observed with dismay how many Londoners slept through a large part of a summer day. An avid golfer, he also disliked cutting short his round at dusk. His solution was to advance the clock during the summer months, a proposal he published two years later. He lobbied unsuccessfully for the proposal until his death in 1915. He actually lobbied for this?? I wonder how many hours he spent lobbying for a one hour shift in time. Am I the only one who thinks this guy was a complete idiot?

Voting

After what feels like an eternity, Election Day is finally here. In case some of you aren't sure what the implications are, it basically means that after today Saturday Night Live will be stupid again; Sarah Palin will return to Alaska; "Hanging Chad" will disappear from everyday vernacular for another four years; and I won't have to dread voting again for a long time. I voted this morning at 7:45am and there were several things that made no sense to me:

1) I waited in line for about an hour. It then took me about three minutes to vote. It doesn't take Pythagoras to understand the problem here. Why should this possibly take so long? It's not like the polling place could underestimate demand. They have a list of everyone that will be coming! It amazes me that in over two hundred years, we haven't been able to figure out an efficient way for people to choose between two people.

2) Not sure about your Wards, but in my Ward, we didn't have electronic voting. We had a paper ballot and we had to use a "special pen" to fill in an arrow. It amazes me that in an age of iPhones, wireless internet, handheld GPS and Tivo, the only way that I can vote for the President is to use technology that has been around since the Sumerians invented Cuneiform. Maybe we should just write the candidate's name on a small piece of parchment and attach it to the leg of a pigeon and see what happens.

3) I had no idea how many judges there were. I must have colored in about a thousand arrows for all the different judges. I find it very hard to believe that the court system is so clogged with that many judges out there.

4) Why can't I just vote online? I can transfer money or pay my credit card bill from my cell phone from anywhere in the country. Those websites are encrypted and totally secure. Why can't I just register online and create a password so that I get emailed a link that lets me click one of two bubbles and cast my vote. It should take thirty seconds. It makes no sense to me that I can order brand new shoes from Zappos and have them arrive tomorrow with free shipping, but voting for one of two people takes over an hour.

Oh well, at least it will all be over soon :)

Cloverfield

Many of you probably know that I watch a lot of movies. There are a ton of movies that I really like; I'm very open-minded. However, there are naturally a few that I don't particularly care for. Unfortunately, every now and then, there is a movie like Cloverfield. A movie that is so incredibly horrible; so unbearably devoid of value; so purely evil in its utter lack of any redeeming qualities... that I can't help but mention it here because it was a colossal disappointment. How a movie that sounds so promising can be such crap truly makes no sense to me.

That poster looks pretty cool, don't you think? Now read the summary of the movie:

"A going-away party in Manhattan is interrupted when a mysterious, giant-sized monster launches an attack on New York City. With camcorder in hand, a small group of friends make their way out into the chaotic streets, scrambling to stay alive."

If you're into science fiction or movies like Armageddon, you would have to agree that the movie sounds at least decent. Want more proof? The movie is produced by J.J. Abrams, the guy that created Alias and Lost. So what's the problem? (Oh, if you don't want to know anything about the movie, then stop reading now)

First of all, the movie is only 84 minutes long. Even Ace Ventura was longer than that. There is literally nothing more to the movie than the summary that you just read. The movie starts out as though someone is watching a video tape that is now the property of the Department of Defense. Like the plot summary indicates, there was a party and someone ended up recording the whole night. So, think about a shittier version of The Blair Witch Project. During the course of the movie you actually get to see the monster and a lot of people die. But, that's it! By the end, everyone is dead and the viewer knows ABSOLUTELY nothing more than you do after simply reading the plot synopsis. You don't know if the monster came from Earth or if it is an alien. You don't know if the military was able to destroy it or if it is still out there threatening to wipe out the rest of the world. You never even find out what the fuck "Cloverfield" means.

I'm all for suspense and cliffhanger endings, but this is cinematic blue-balls at its absolute worst. Hey J.J., maybe you could have put a few minutes of actual plot into the movie? The minimal character development that did happen was pointless because by the time you actually start to give the tiniest shit about any of them, they die. In hindsight, my 84 minutes would have been better spent in the bathroom. At least then I wouldn't have had shit all over my iPhone.

Can't Take Anymore

After his overwhelming success with the Third Reich, I'm pretty sure that at some point in between marrying Eva Braun and committing suicide in the Führerbunker, this man somehow found the time to start another clandestine and deeply evil organization: the CTA. Only a minion of Satan could devise something as utterly fucked as the CTA is. My day started as it normally does; with me waiting for the train. While I was waiting for approximately 25 minutes, I had some time to think. I looked at the CTA train map

and realized that several things make no sense to me:

1) Why does it take 25 minutes for a train to come? Trains are supposed to come roughly every 5 minutes. By the time the train actually showed up, the platform looked like Woodstock. I think there were 100,000 people waiting for the red-line. It was absolute mayhem. Forget the fact that the arriving train was already bursting at the seams; when the doors opened it was like the running of the bulls. I understand a regular traffic jam. Some dipshit gets terrified to drive the speed limit because there is a pothole in the highway and so it takes 3 times as long as necessary to get home. That makes me want to kill someone, but at least I understand it. What the hell goes wrong on a train track?? There are no drunk drivers; no gapers delay; no bitch putting on lipstick while talking on her cell phone and driving; just trains that have rigid schedules they are supposed to keep.

2) Once I'm finally on a train, something comes over me and I turn into a complete douche. I don't know what it is, but it's basically like all of my morals and ethics go right to shit. I don't give up my seat for people; I'm reluctant to even move out of the way so that people can pass by me. I think I am the end result of 5 years of being furious at the CTA. Normally, I like to think of myself as a relatively pleasant guy, but if I met me on a train, I would want to kick me right in the balls.

3) Why do I take the train twice every single day instead of taking a cab? The obvious answer is that a cab would cost roughly $18 each way and the train only costs $2, but that can't be the only answer. When I'm standing directly underneath the chin of some gargantuan asshole with neck piercings and breath that smells like he just blew an infected barnyard animal, unable to move becuase some other schmuk's North Face duffel bag is resting on my chest, I would gladly pay $18 to be in a putrid disgusting cab.

That is SO gay!

Proposition 22 has been active in California for 8 stupid years. In a nutshell, Proposition 22 has prevented California from recognizing same-sex marriages. Finally, on May 15, 2008, the California Supreme Court ruled that any statute (like Prop. 22) that limits marriage to a relationship between a man and a woman violates the equal protection clause of the California Constitution.

On November 4th, California will be voting on an initiative measure that appears on the California General Election ballot called "Proposition 8". If passed, the proposition would change the California Constitution to eliminate the right of same-sex couples to marry in California. A new section would be added stating "only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California".

I'm not only writing about this today because two of my favorite people in the whole world are gay. I'm writing about this because ignorant and moronic people get entirely too much attention in this country and anyone actually in favor of passing this measure should be castrated and deported. Here are a few of the billion reasons that this makes no sense:

1) Is it really that hard to understand what equal rights mean? Seriously?? This country was founded on the idea that all people are created free and equal. No one can possibly misinterpret that. If you have a right, I get it too. Simple, right? Honestly, I don't understand what all the bullshit is about. I don't care if it's race, gender, age, cell phone provider, or what kind of privates you prefer when the lights are off; we should all have the equal right to make these choices. Isn't that the whole point? Anyone who disagrees, shut your ignorant ass up.

2) I'm sorry, but lesbians are hot. It just needed to be said. Goverment should be encouraging this sort of activity; not limiting it.

3) What the fuck is a "civil union"? Apparently a "Civil Union" is a legal arrangement between two people that individual states can elect to recognize. Typically they offer people about 1% of the rights and privileges that are enjoyed by legally married people. Do lawmakers actually think that they are fooling anyone? Even the presidential candidates are relatively open about their support of civil unions while condemning gay marriage. You can't be for something and against it. By agreeing that civil unions are ok but being against gay marriage, you don't secure the gay vote; you secure that the gay community hates you only slightly less than every other politician that is against equal rights.

4) The "Defense of Marriage Act" was passed on September 21, 1996. Sounds like a good thing, right? Wrong. This law had two effects: (a) "no state need treat a relationship between persons of the same sex as a marriage, even if the relationship is considered a marriage in another state." (b) "The Federal Government may not treat same-sex relationships as marriages for any purpose." I think I speak for the entire same-sex community when I say that Congress needs to work on its defense. How our Federal Government can claim to be securing equal rights for all of its citizens while still authoring this kind of legislative garbage is absolutely terrifying. I sincerely hope that anyone who voted for this Act in 1996 gets trapped in an elevator with a pack of angry goth lesbians.

5) All kidding aside, how can anyone possibly be against gay marriage? Do you think that preventing gay marriage will somehow cut down on the number of gay people in this country? Do you think that preventing gay marriage will in any way reduce the amount of gay sex going on in this country? Gay people are already living together and having sex in every city in America. So what's the problem? You people actually care whether or not two in-love and fully committed people get a piece of paper that says they can visit each other in the hospital or file their taxes jointly? To anyone that is against gay marriage, I have bad news for you... you always lose! You were upset that black people couldn't be slaves anymore; you were upset that women got to vote; you'll be upset when gay marriage is eventually legalized. Why don't you adopt a point of view consistent with the century you're living in.

** In the mean time, please vote AGAINST Proposition 8!!

Navy Pier

Over the weekend, I had the unique pleasure of taking my daughter to the Children's Museum located at Navy Pier. When you look at the picture, it looks like a wonderful place, doesn't it? It conjures images of old town fairs or childhood circuses or carnivals. In reality, while the museum is great for kids, the rest of Navy Pier is the kind of place that no one should ever visit. Ever. The people are rude; the parking is way too expensive; the food is slightly less than mediocre; and the stores are completely worthless. In fact, the only good thing about walking through Navy Pier is that there are things to look at outside. There isn't ten minutes worth of quality on the inside of Navy Pier. You want specifics? Here are the things that made no sense to me:

1) First of all, trying to figure out how to get to the Children's Museum on the second floor, with a stroller, is a joke. There is a huge staircase and a huge escalator, but no elevator. After searcing for several minutes, we finally found an elevator on the opposite side of the building from where the Museum was. So, we go up in the elevator, figuring that we would simply walk the 12 steps to the entrance of the Museum. As we were about to start walking, an employee sprints over to us and points out that they are setting up for a wedding and we can't go through here. The conversation went like this:

- Me: "I can see you're setting up, but no one is here yet and the entrance is right over there."
- Douchebag: "We're setting up for a wedding."
- Me: "Right. Well what if we just run right over there and you pretend that you don't see us."
- Douchebag: "We're setting up for a wedding. You can't go there."
- Me: "Ok, fine. Can you tell us another way to get over to the Museum?"
- Douchebag: "I don't know."
- Me: "That's very helpful; thank you." (Spoken like I want to light him on fire and pour his remains into the wedding's fondue fountain)
- Douchebag: "You're welcome." (Spoken like he has no idea how much I hate him)

Would it have been so hard to let us walk the 12 steps to the Museum? Would it have been so hard to train this employee to know where the other elevators in Navy Pier are located? Unreal.

2) After the Museum, we noticed that there was a magic store outside. Magic happens to be a hobby of mine, so I thought that we would walk in for a minute and see if they were selling anything interesting. We walk in and there is one employee standing there. We wait patiently until he is done talking to the only other customer in the store. He then looks at me and the conversation goes something like this:

- Me: "What new tricks do you guys have?"
- Waste Of Space: "We don't have anything new."
- Me: "Really? Nothing new... at all?"
- Waste Of Space: "Our inventory has been the same for the last 15 years."
- Me: "How exciting! Could you please show us your best trick?"
- Waste Of Space: "We do product demonstrations once an hour."

Umm, ok. This guy hasn't had a new product since the early '90's. He sits around waiting for people to come into his magic trick store... hoping to buy magic tricks... and then tells them that he can't show them the magic tricks. What exactly is his job?? Putz.

3) Every store in Navy Pier sucks. Seriously, do people really buy magnets? Or caricatures? Or hats with flashing lights on them? Or 3-gallon buckets of cheese popcorn? You know what would be cool? If there was at least one thing at Navy Pier that didn't make me want to leave the building immediately.

4) We finally went to Joe's Be-Bop Cafe for dinner. The menu looked decent and there were plenty of kids around so we thought this place would be fine. We were sitting at the table for about 10 minutes when the live music started. To say that the band was "loud" would be like saying that the stock market is "down"; it doesn't even scratch the surface. My daughter must have thought there was an earthquake; we couldn't hear each other talk... even when we were yelling; the waitress couldn't hear our dinner orders; you get the idea. We all basically sat there eating silently because we couldn't have heard each other anyway. Note to restaurant owners: if the music is so loud that it impacts your digestion, try turning it down a notch, ok?

5) Why are churros only sold at lame places like amusement parks and Navy Pier? Either churros completely suck and they shouldn't be sold anywhere, or churros kick ass and they should be available everywhere. What am I missing here?

The Gym

With a 3-month old daughter, it sometimes feels like the only things I do are go to work, sleep, and play with her for a few minutes before she goes to sleep. Luckily I've still been able to get the gym for a little while every now and then. Every time I'm at the gym, I'm amazed at how many things make absolutely no sense... but don't even phase me until after I'm gone.

1) Gyms are disgusting. Normally, I'm a very hygenic person. I don't like germs. I wash my hands constantly during the day. Out in the real world, if someone is drenched in their own bodily fluids, waving suits me just fine. In the gym, people sweat. A lot. They sweat on themselves; they sweat on the weights they're using; they sweat on the cardio equipment. Those people that aren't content to merely wipe the sweat away with their own sweaty hands, have a terrific alternative; a towel. No cleaning supplies; no anti-bacterial products... just a towel that rests on either the floor or on the equipment that everyone else has been sweating on. When they're done using the sweaty equipment, some people have the decency to use their sweaty towel to dry off the fresh sweat, but this doesn't really clean anything. The cure for Alzheimer's is probably living on the machine I was using yesterday, but all I did was sweat all over it and then put it on my towel.

2) For people who lift weights, one of the things that any personal trainer will try to pound into your head is that "form is much more important than how much weight you lift", because poor form can easily cause back problems, muscle tears, etc. That said, it is extremely common to see an otherwise average guy lifting Herculean quantities of weights. These idiots do everything except hook up a pully to the ceiling in an effort to curl 20 extra pounds. Hey Chuck Norris, why don't you stop trying to do 1 rep of 400 pounds and spend some time not being in traction. The only time looking this ridiculous is actually acceptable is when a 10 year old girl could lift more weight than you. In that case, form be damned.

3) People who actually can read a book or magazine while using an elliptical machine. Some small part of me understand that people can do this while riding a bike because your upper body doesn't move. I don't know about you, but when I'm on elliptical my head is experiencing the equivalent of a 9.5 earthquake. I move around like I'm caught in some kind of magnetic field. I couldn't read for 5 seconds much less 30 minutes. Plus, you people are reading things like US Weekly or the Chicago Tribune. I don't know about you but when I'm working out I like to feel a little bit inspired. I listen to music with a fast tempo in an effort to stay motivated. Reading about the Olsen twins' eating disorders, how many points the Dow fell, or Madonna's divorce just makes me want to go home.

4) Newsflash: cotton is no longer permitted in the gym. Every person in the gym, regardless of their size and shape now wears either spandex or something made by Under Armour. Have you even tried to find a cotton t-shirt lately. If you want to feel badly about yourself, go to a sporting goods store. Unless you're a heroine addict or a 12 year old boy, good luck fitting into those clothes.

** Note to my daughter: just put a treadmill in your basement.

Rough Day

You ever have one of those days where you do a lot of really stupid things? I'm talking about REALLY stupid things. I'm talking about things like taking the top off of a bottle full of breast milk, and THEN shaking it up. We all have days like that, right? Well I feel like I'm right in the middle of one. So, rather than always ripping on everyone else's stupidity, I figured I would mention several things I've done during the last 24 hours that make absolutely no sense.

1) Shaving shouldn't be that hard anymore. I've been shaving multiple times a week for well over 15 years. Yet for some reason, every now and then, it feels like the first time I've ever done it. Yesterday morning there was a spot on my neck that I just couldn't shave properly. Like a complete asshole, I kept hacking away at my neck to get the smooth shave that I apparently needed so desparately. The result? OUCH! It felt like someone had dragged barbed wire across my face. My neck looks like it auditioned for Freddy vs. Jason. It was bleeding in about 12 spots for the better part of an hour. Naturally, I chose to wear a white t-shirt yesterday and the collar now looks like a leper's loin cloth.

2) I have two dogs. Both dogs poop every day. I took the dogs out this morning and immediately stepped in crap. Then they went to the bathroom and the bag that I had with me had a hole in it. How did I find that out? Easy, I got shit on my hand. By the time I got back inside I looked like a homeless guy that had been sleeping in the dumpster behind a Taco Bell.

3) You ever make oatmeal? Not that hard, right? Except when you go to stir it and you splash oatmeal-water all over your khakis. You know the only thing worse than a stain on your pants? Thinking it makes perfect sense to use a lot of water to wash off a drop-sized stain. Now I look like my junk went through a car wash.

4) So I was on the train this morning and I start watching a movie on my iPhone. As the train starts filling up, I start getting more and more anxious because there is a greater likelihood that I might have to hold on to something in the train for balance. As a sidenote, you should know I have a mild phobia of the germs that live on the hand rails in trains. In general, I would rather drink my urine or sit through an episode of America's Next Top Model... than touch train metal with my bare hands. This might be hard to explain, but rather than hold on to a hand rail, I put my entire arm through the hand rail so that only my clothed elbow was touching it. As more people crammed on to the train, the pressure on my wrist increased. Despite the shooting pain in my right arm, I stayed like that until my headphone cord got caught on someone's backpack and ripped the phone out of my hand. So, the phone fell on to the ground and when I went to pick it up, one hand touched the ground and I needed to grab the other rail with my other hand for balance.

Fuck me.

Herpes and Crabs and Scabies, Oh My!!!

I read an article on CNN this morning and I simply couldn't let it go unanswered. Apparently, since 2004, a website called http://www.inspot.org/ will send someone an annonymous email to let them know that they should get checked out for a sexually transmitted disease. So, rather than telling the person that you might have given them something, the website can do it for you. You can choose from a variety of way-cool email templates that look something like this:

The most disturbing thing to me about this website, is not merely that it exists (though that is absolutey mind-boggling). No, the most disturbing thing is that CNN is actually reporting that a site like this is a good idea! http://www.cnn.com/2008/HEALTH/conditions/10/21/std.e-cards/index.html There are a couple things about this irresponsible and ultimately harmful reporting that make no sense to me:

1) This can't be a good idea. Funny? Yes. Good for pranks? Sure. But the notion that health professionals are actually behind something like this is unreal. What about educating people about how not to spread STD's in the first place? What about encouraging the infected to be honest with the people they cared enough about to hook up with in the first place? What about supporting some minimal level of accountability rather than just letting people hide behind a flirtatious and annonymous email? What about apologizing for making their crotch itch?

2) Is an email really the best way to let someone know that they have an STD?? Personally, there are about a thousand ways I would rather find out than from an email; they are so cold and impersonal. (a) What about STD Singing Telegrams? I don't know about you, but if I could reasonably expect a pelvic discharge in the near future, I would sure like to hear about it through melodic rhyme. (b) 1-800-FLOWERS could start offering the Syphillis basket! It could be full of twigs and pinecones and it could include a clever card like, "Not what you expected? Join the club." (c) What about skywriting? Wouldn't it be great to be at a baseball game on a nice summer day and have forty-thousand people simultaneously realize that you have genital herpes? (d) Text message. This is a no brainer. How easy would it be to send a text? "Plz dnt h8 me. I gv u the clap."

Just to name a few.

** Note to my daughter: just say what's on your mind.

Daddy Day Care

This was the first weekend that my wife went out of town since our daughter was born. No question, I expected to feel something like this:

Shockingly, the weekend went pretty well. There are still a few things that don't make sense to me...

1) It would be pretty cool if the companies that design baby bottles could figure out a way for me to avoid getting breast milk on my hands every time I fill up a bottle. I don't really consider myself to be a squeamish person, but ew.

2) When she goes to sleep at 7:30pm, she wakes up at 4:30am. Clearly, I'm not a mathematician or physicist, but if she goes to sleep later, she should sleep later, right? Wrong. Not sure if all of you know this, but apparently babies are wired so that at precisely two hours before you would otherwise start your day, they magically wake up. No matter what. Early Childhood Development experts call this the Awwshit Reflex.

3) Note to self: do not play spaceship immediately after the baby eats.

4) Every night for the last three months, we give the baby a bath. Every night for the last three months, she cries right before she gets into the bath. Every night for the last three months, she giggles and clearly loves the bath. Every night for the last three months, she cries when she gets out of the bath. Does this make sense to anyone???

5) I'm pretty sure that the new face she makes right before she cries; the one where her eyes get wattery and her lower lip starts to quiver and stick out in a frown... I'm pretty sure THAT look is going to be the single most expensive thing in my entire life.

Totally Random

For some reason I'm having a hard time figuring out what to write about. So, instead of just writing about one thing, I thought I would mention a few random things I'm thinking about this morning:

1) Sarah Palin is apparently set to appear on Saturday Night Live this Saturday night. Here is the picture that CNN used to report this story:
Now maybe I just have babies on the brain, but it looks to me like she is pumping breast milk in this picture rather than simply promoting her SNL appearance. You betcha!

2) The world's largest "super-yacht" is apparently 160 meters long and named "The Dubai".
I'm not an economist, but I think the price of Middle Eastern oil might be ever-so-slightly higher than necessary if they can afford yachts that actually contain submarines. You read that right. That would be like buying a car that had a motorcycle inside. I know that I shouldn't be critical of the Middle East's excess. After all, look at all the positive things that region has done for the planet... like, umm... umm... actually, I can't think of anything.

3) CNN reported this morning that the song "Stayin' Alive might be more true to its name than the Bee Gees ever could have guessed: At 103 beats per minute, the old disco song has almost the perfect rhythm to help jump-start a stopped heart."
Apparently the University of Illinois conducted a study that demonstrated that 100 is the ideal number of heart compressions that should be performed each minute during CPR. As an interesting sidenote, Divinyl's "I Touch Myself" has the exact number of beats necessary for keeping busy on an otherwise boring and lonely Saturday night.

4) OJ Simpson is a fucking idiot. There's not any particular reason for this to come up today, but I was thinking about Saturday Night Fever and for some reason that made me think about Naked Gun. What kind of a schmuck commits murder, gets acquitted, and then commits another major crime over some sports memorabilia. He should get life and then the electric chair.

Be Someone Else

With the election only 20 days away and the last of the Presidential debates airing tonight, both Republican and Democratic campaigns are still in full swing. Earlier today, former Vice President Dan Quayle had some words of advice for Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin about how to deal with the spotlight and some of the criticism she has been receiving(http://www.theindychannel.com/news/17721346/detail.html):

"Don't let them take anything away from you. Just go out and be yourself."

Am I the only one with more than a couple problems with this entire situation? Here's what really makes no sense to me:

1) I really don't think Dan Quayle is the right person to be giving public relations advice. Admittedly, I think it was ridiculous that he got such a bad reputation for stupid non-issues like misspelling the word "potatoE". However, despite his best efforts, he was a disaster in the spotlight. Really, I think the issue here is credibility. You don't see Senator Larry Craig or New York Governor Elliot Spitzer giving spotlight advice, do you? Know why? Because when these people were in the spotlight, they insured that late-night talk show hosts would have solid material for months. They were the public relations equivalent of the Titanic. Maybe Palin should be receiving advice from people that didn't hit an iceberg? Just a thought.

2) "Don't let them take anything away from you." I think this would be very dangerous advice to follow. In fact, I think Palin should let "them" take the Katie Couric interview away from her; she should let "them" take away all the words in her vocabulary that end with "cha"; and she should most definitely let "them" take away the widespread panic that would overwhelm every man, woman and child in the country if anything ever happened to McCain. I think Palin should let "them" take those things away as quickly as possible. Preferably before November 4th.

3) "Just go out and be yourself." Again, I think this is probably the most dangerous advice Palin could possibly follow. "Being herself" is a huge part of the reason that 50% of the country (according to CNN's most recent Poll of Polls) is having serious doubts about voting for McCain. Here's a brief list of people that I think it would make more sense for Palin to "go out and be", rather than herself:
- Kay Bailey Hutchison
- Posh Spice
- Hillary Clinton
- Pink
- Tina Fey
- Rudy Giuliani
- Mary Kate Olsen

** Note to my daughter: Unsolicited advice is a dangerous thing.

Screw You Ringo Starr

Apparently former Beatle Ringo Starr is sick and tired of having fans. In a video posted on his website (http://www.ringostarr.com/home.php), Ringo tells all of his fans in no uncertain terms:

"I want to tell you please... do not send fan mail to any address that you have. Nothing will be signed after the 20th of October. If that is the date on the envelope, it's gonna be tossed... I'm warning you with peace and love I have too much to do. So no more fan mail, thank you, thank you, and no objects to be signed. Nothing."

Shockingly, there are a few things about Ringo's statement that make no sense to me:

1) "Do not send fan mail". Call me out of touch, but does Ringo actually have any fans? Obviously The Beatles have tons of fans; I'm pretty sure that Paul McCartney has a lot of fans too. Is anyone really a fan of only Ringo? Honestly, I think that Brainy Smurf has more fans than Ringo does.

2) "I'm warning you with peace and love". To me, this is a lot like saying "no offense, but you're ugly". Peace and love are not used for warning people. Peace and love are typically reserved for thanking people that still give a shit about you even though you haven't done anything of value since before they were born.

3) "I have too much to do". Really? You're too busy to simply receive fan mail? I think the general public fails to grasp how hard it must be to be a has-been. Think about it. You have to wake up every day and be 110% committed to your downhill journey. It's unbearably overwhelming to know that every day you get further and further from the only time in your life that you weren't a complete douche.

On October 19th, maybe I'll send Ringo this picture for him to sign:

(Asshole)

The Odyssey

About two months ago, we realized that whenever our daughter is riding in the car with us, she faces the back of the car and it must therefore be extremely boring for her. Since she craves stimulation every moment of her awake life, we decided something had to be done.

Belive it or not, there is an entire class of products specifically designed to combat this exact situation: mirrors. By attaching a mirror to the back seat of the car, the driver can look into their rear-view mirror, thereby seeing into the additional mirror and being able to stare at the baby. I'm pretty sure that if a third mirror were somehow incorporated into the car, we could travel through time, but I digress.

So, we decided to pursue our dream and purchase one of these mirrors... but quite simply, I had no idea we would have to journey into the depths of Hell to make this dream a reality. Here are several parts of this tragic endeavor that make no sense to me:

1) Have you ever shopped at Babies R Us? I'm pretty sure that to be an employee at this store, you have to somehow survive the following grueling interview:
- Interviewer: Are you alive?
- Job Applicant: Yes.
- Interviewer: Good! Do you have any references that can vouch for your intelligence or offer proof that you graduated from 2nd Grade?
- Job Applicant: No.
- Interviewer: Well, I can't say this "officially" until I get approval from HQ, but welcome to the Babies R Us family.

2) After spending fifteen minutes trying to find an employee to help us locate a mirror, we finally stumbled on to them ourselves. To be honest, they all look like crap. These things don't look anything like real mirrors. They basically look like somone put tin foil over a curved piece of colored plastic. I couldn't recognize myself in the "mirror" even though I was standing three inches away. I had no idea how I would recognize my child from four feet away, while driving! Anyway, after spending another fifteen minutes in line, we were finally able to leave the store and head home.

3) We tried to install the mirror in the parking lot. This was impossible because we didn't have a screwdriver. Why would we need a screwdriver? Becasue the battery compartment is kept shut with a screw. Why is it kept shut with a screw? Because that is what Satan would do. When I got home, I counted up all of the things in my house that have battery compartments; there are 8,012 of them. Know how many are so fragile that they need to be locked in place with a screw? None. I can understand things like cabinet doors, shelves, furniture... those things need screws to stay together. The only thing a battery door does, is come off! Why would you lock that in place with a screw?

4) So, we finally got the mirror home and installed batteries. Drum roll please... the mirror didn't work. The songs don't play; the lights don't light; frankly the only thing that works properly is the battery compartment door. Back to Babies R Us for a different model.

5) At least this time we knew where to find the mirrors and we picked up the Lexus of baby mirrors. This thing even has a remote control. Naturally, it takes 6 batteries to work, but the good news is that this mirror actually worked! Interestingly, it has no on/off switch or clear controls, but the remote control can at least change the song that is played so that we don't kill ourselves.

6) Everything was fine for three days. At that point we learned that our mirror was haunted and every ten minutes, right in the middle of an otherwise tranquil tune, an ear-piercing noise that sounds like an elephant making a mating call and being hit with a small tactical nuclear weapon would escape the Devil machine. It scared the baby and nearly made me drive off the road; every single time.

7) Trip #3 to Babies R Us consisted of returning mirror #2 and demanding that someone bring me a screwdriver so that I could demo mirror #3 before I left the store. Twenty minutes and a package of batteries later, it became clear that mirror #3 didn't work either. In a fit of rage, I said to the salesperson, "we're not buying this, it doesn't work." I have to hand it to the Babies R Us customer service staff. In the face of my obvious anger and frustration, which of the following was her response:

A- I'm sorry sir, let me run and get you another one.
B- I'm sorry sir, let me get my manager to see if we can get you a discount on a working model.
C- I'm sorry sir, why don't I call the manufacturere and enlist their aid in a designing a product that doesn't completely suck ass.
D- Umm, ok.

You guessed it, D. I could understand if the janitor didn't really care about our problem. I could understand if a cashier didn't really care. But, maybe Babies R Us should train the employees that handle their returns, to care a little that their products are horrible and the overall shopping experience could accurately be compared to Pearl Harbor.

** Notes to my daughter:
1) Don't work at Babies R Us. People will assume that you are medically brain dead and will ultimately want to hurt you.
2) If at first you don't succeed, fight the urge to kill someone.

Crazy Times

It seems like you can't do anything these days without some journalist, celebrity, or politician talking about how crazy these times are. With a presidential election less than a month away, a global economy in the midst of an unprecedented meltdown, both the Cubs and White Sox knocked out of the playoffs, and Brad and Angelina talking about adopting another child, there can be no question that the world is a little upside-down. So, here are a couple random things that I'm thinking about...

Somone emailed me this picture this morning and I had to post it immediately. When McCain keeps talking about "reaching across the aisle", I naturally assumed that he was talking about bipartisan cooperation. Now I'm not so sure. I have to say that if I were going to pick a candidate based solely on their sexual prowess, I would have to say that Obama is the clear winner here. In looking at this picture, I think McCain looks like he was embalmed and recently laid to rest. Obama, on the other hand, looks like he is really enjoying the moment. I can't fathom how Obama, after hearing all of the negative attacks that the Republicans have been slinging at him, can still simultaneously summon enough lust and tenderness to give McCain this kind of loving. Maybe that is the kind of passion that Washington really needs after all.

The caption from this picture was, "We Can Solve This Crisis!" I'm no forensic expert, but doesn't this look like W is finishing up at a urinal rather than tackling the economy? If by "crisis", you mean "a few drops of pee on your suit", then yes... I belive you can solve that crisis. Anything beyond that Mr. President and I think you should probably defer to people that are smarter and more trustworthy than you. No offense.

Given that the financial sector has slightly more stability than Hugh Hefner's list of girlfriends, a bunch of Wall Street traders took a ten minute break this morning to play a highly competitive game of Simon Says.

As long as I'm on the subject of Hef, you might have heard that he has broken up with one of his girlfriends. To quote the news article, "Playboy founder Hefner, 82, has revealed that model Holly Madison, 28, left him when they discovered he could not father children because of his age." Somehow, Hefner will have to make due with Holly's replacements...

Yes, those are really his new girlfriends, and yes... these are crazy, crazy times.

McCain vs. Obama (Round 2)

When I saw this picture, I assumed that all of the political attacks of the last week had finally come to an end. Honestly, it looks like Obama is going to slip Johnny the tongue here. But, alas, it was merely a picture advertising the second presidential debate that aired last night (moderated by Tom Brokaw). I can't help but point out the top ten things that really made no sense to me:

1) Does anyone else think that McCain is a bit of a close talker? As McCain started to answer the first question, he kept moving closer and closer to the audience member that asked the question. For a second, I thought he was going to go sit in his lap. It's called personal space, look into it.

2) The third question of the night was asked by audience member Oliver Clark. He asked, "Well, Senators, through this economic crisis, most of the people that I know have had a difficult time. And through this bailout package, I was wondering what it is that's going to actually help those people out." This question is full of things that piss me off. First of all Ollie, you look like you are 20 years old. Most of the people that you know are drunk, stoned, or work at a Blockbuster Video. Second, why don't you try writing a question that doesn't sound like it was written by a coma patient. Finally, why don't you try doing a little research before you go on national television. With your 15 seconds of fame, maybe you could come up with a slightly more compelling question than "umm, could you summarize the bailout for me". I know, I know... information about the bailout is pretty hard to find; it's only in every magazine, newspapaer, website and news show in the world right now.

3) Brokaw: "Senator McCain, in all candor, do you think the economy is going to get worse before it gets better?"
McCain: "I think it depends on what we do."
No kidding? And here I was all this time thinking that the economy was a force of nature that functions entirely independently of "what we do". Go figure.

4) McCain: "Nailing down Sen. Obama's various tax proposals is like nailing Jell-O to the wall". With logic like that, I can't help but think that Senator McCain probably failed the Analogies section of the SAT's. I think he's trying to say that Obama's tax proposals are tough to decipher. In no way does that mean that Jell-O on a wall is hard to decipher. On the other hand, I suppose he might mean that Obama's tax proposals are cube-shaped and sticky and go great with a little vodka, but I really need more information here.

5) Did Obama really vote in favor of a $3 Million overhead projector at the Chicago Planetarium? Nothing solves an economic crisis like a clearer view of Cassiopaea. Can you imagine if FDR had annouced his New Deal (come on people, that was how we climbed out of the Great Depression; brush up on your history once in awhile) by saying something like, "we have to cut spending; tighten Orion's Belt a little bit and make real sacrifices". Astronomy is not exactly a critical issue right now.

6) Did President Bush really say that "the stock market got drunk"? That's something Ross Perot would have said.

7) McCain: "it's not that hard to fix Social Security... Social Security is not that tough. We know what the problems are, my friends, and we know what the fixes are. We've got to sit down together across the table. It's been done before." What a relief, we know what the fixes are! Then why isn't it fixed? Is it me, or might McCain be oversimplifying a tad.

8) I think Brokaw was ready to start beating the shit out of the candidates if they didn't stay within their allotted time limits. Calm down Tom.

9) Obama: "We're spending $10 billion a month in Iraq at a time when the Iraqis have a $79 billion surplus, $79 billion." I'm sorry, but if that is really true... that's fucked.

10) If you were playing a drinking game where you had to take a shot every time McCain said "my friends", there is no way you could have gone into work today.