Just say NO

Every once in a while you just need to cut loose, throw caution to the wind, go “all in”, pass go and collect $200.  And even thought that makes no sense, my point is that sometimes you just need some excitement.

Now, there's a slight chance that I may be getting older.  Not right now, of course, but eventually and I'd like to prepare myself for what's to come. So, when my girlfriend managed to get her hands on some Viagra I was all for it.  I was too focused on the thought of having a night of passion that I completely neglected to ask her where she got the little blue pills.  There was no bottle, they just came in a little baggy but I thought that would be a good thing because I wouldn't have the chance to lament over possible side-effects like blindness or rectal bleeding or stroke.  Besides,  a little plastic baggy is perfectly legitimate, right?

In hind sight, I should have just said “NO”, these little blue pills were obviously not a prescription and probably some concoction that was manufactured in someone's toilet.  But you can't judge me because you didn't see the way she looked in her mini-skirt while she was digging through her purse looking for a means of poisoning me.

Unfortunately, the little blue pill yielded a very unexpected result.  I was expecting (read: hoping) to become an unstoppable sex machine.  Instead, after I swallowed the blue pill Morpheus appeared and started giving me a lecture about the dangers of conformity and telling me how disappointed he was that I wasn't “the one”.  Which is something that my girlfriend has been saying for years.

Okay, I don't honestly expect you to believe something so outlandishly preposterous. I can hear you all saying, “That's just impossible” and you're right.  I mean, come on, do you really think I have a girlfriend? 

I did, however, watch The Matrix again recently.  One thing that never occurred to me when I watched it years ago is why did Neo take EITHER pill?  I mean, if a mysterious man in a trench coat offered you a pill, would you take it?  

Wait, that's not funny

This morning I woke up and wondered, "Is today a good day to start making my own decisions?"  I even sought out some sage advice by posting this delightfully ironic query on Facebook, like any responsible adult would.  You see, I've decided to flip the coin on my life and become a full-time web designer and part-time construction worker.  That's right folks, the random rambler is going back to school.  Call it a mid-life crisis or a life altering epiphany but I've decided to follow my dream of becoming that old guy who works for some nerdy kid.  Gosh, I should put that on my resumé.

Now, I've always had the philosophy that being a geek wasn't a boolean value but had many shades of bcbcbc.  And, though I've always dabbled with web design, I've recently noticed that I start to drool at the thought of getting another website to work on.  Does the name "Pavlov" ring a bell? Anyway, I took that as an indicator that it's time to transition from tool belt to pocket protector.  Which might actually mean that I'll have more time to devote to blogging.  I'll be at a computer anyway so it won't be out of my way.  It's hard to be on Facebook and blogger when you're operating a jackhammer. No really, you should try it sometime.  Or better yet, try using a jackhammer when you have a head cold, that's some fun stuff.  And by head cold, I mean hangover.  They're the same thing, right?  

I've been altered

And not in  a fun way.

Okay, so I know that it's been a long time since I've been on Blog Catalog but my recent visit was a little frightening. Apparently, while I was away, the default profile image changed a little. It's seems that you can now upload a larger picture. Which is nice, if you happen to have caught that change. I, however, missed the memo. So, my tiny picture got expanded and became all pixelated like this:

Yikes! I mean, come on now. I look like a character from Mario Brothers. Like, maybe Nintendo did a video game version of White men can't jump. Of course, most people know that Mario has a brother named Luigi. But, did you also know that they have a blond step-brother who likes to wear his hat backwards? That's right, in this 80's classic arcade game, I play the character who cleans up after the Mario brothers and talks to mice. My catch-phrase is, “It's a me, Emikio”.

But it gets worse. I logged in again today to find that my pixelated abomination of a profile picture had been changed to this woman:

Now, as cute as she may be, I'm telling you people... She's an imposter. I know, I know, it's hard to believe that the random rambler doesn't look like this in real life. And, that stupid little gender bot thing said that I write like a girl. Yeah, that's what it said. But, I didn't let that get me down. I put on my big girl panties and kept right on writing. Besides, it was analyzing my typing, not my writing. Which looks exactly like this:

Actually, I think I write like a doctor (I just don't get paid like one) A doctor who has had too much caffeine and is off of his seizure meds. Seriously, wouldn't you want to lay on my table and have me pick up a scalpel? Come on, I have steady hands (sort of) and I'm pretty handy with tools. Don't let my sloppy writing discourage you. Now, the fact that I'm a construction worker and not a surgeon should discourage you.

Which reminds me, I have a million dollar idea. I plan to add caffeine to orange juice and make an energy drink with vitamins. I'll call it “Pep-C”. It should sell like crazy when it gets all the bad publicity of being a trademark infringement that sounds like a disease.

I should also put some of that Ginko Biloba stuff in it. I don't have a good memory and it's hard for me to keep track of what I've done and haven't done. I should also put some of that Ginko Biloba stuff in it. I don't have a good memory and it's hard for me to keep track of what I've done and haven't done.  

False Advertising

I've been the victim of false advertising.  I like being the victim because it's much batter than saying, "I made a stupid decision and, rather than learn from it, I made it again and again".  Anyway, back to my victimness.  You know how certain products are supposed to make you thinner, taller, sexier, less bald, smarter (okay, that one's a stretch of irony) or give you more energy?  But, when you actually use them, you realize that all they did was make you less rich?  Yeah, I had that happen to me.

You see, all these years I've been smoking.  Not because I wanted an expensive and bad habit but because it was supposed to make me like the Marlboro man.  Well, aside from certain other things.  Like, I know I don't wear a cowboy hat and I don't ride a horse.  And I don't live in the West and work on a ranch.  But not that I couldn't.  I mean, I could totally do that and the only thing stopping me is that... I don't want to.  But, I could totally be the next great cowboy.  I'd just be one that doesn't like cowboy hats or horses.  Or cows.

But that's besides the point.  The point is that smoking was supposed to make me strong and rugged and cool and all those other cowboyish things.  But it didn't.  At least, I don't feel cool when I have to go outside of a restaurant and stand in the rain to smoke by myself.  I don't feel strong when I get winded going up a flight of stairs or... thinking about going up a flight of stairs.  I don't feel rugged when I burn my lips and scream like a school girl.  Okay, I made that part up.  I burn my fingers.

Anyway, you can't say that I didn't try.  I mean, I've been doing this for over 20 years and I'm no more of a cowboy now than I was when I started.  I want my money back.  Or, at least, a complementary pair of those really cool chaps.

Sorry I haven't posted

Sorry I haven't posted in a while but, at least I have a good reason (read: excuse). You see, there were these ninjas.  But not just any ordinary ninjas.  These ninjas could turn invisible and kill a man with a mere thought. There were over a hundred of them and, they were in this dream that I had.

Then, I woke up from my dream and this woman texted me and invited me out for drinks.  But, not just ordinary drinks, they were laced with something.  It was a mind altering chemical that was more... um... mind altering than roofies.  I think the scientific name for it is "tequila". But not just any tequila, it was the frozen kind.  Margaritas look so innocent and are actually very intoxicating and evil.  Hey, kinda like the woman who invited me out for drinks.

Anyway, I realized that I need to get back to blogging.  Not for the money, of course but because it's the one thing that keeps me sane (or showcases my insanity, I'm not sure which). So, I am going to try to fit more writing into my busy schedule of defending the world from dream ninjas.

Special thanks to the Arcangel who gave me the inspiration for the name of this post. And apparently believes that since the "h" is silent it might as well be deleted entirely, saving one whole keystroke. I'm all for this energy conservation movement. The world is already full of wasted characters, U C.

What are we eating?

People, it's a sad world that we live in when a simple trip to the grocery store has me shaking  my head so much I get dizzy.  The products that are available today are pretending to be something that they're not.  I'm surrounded by wolves in sheeps clothing.  Or worse, food that's pretending to be other food.  And probably stuff that I wouldn't normally eat.

This all started a few years ago when my daughter decided to be a vegetarian and wanted veggie burgers.  Well, as far as I'm concerned, there is nothing like a good cheeseburger.  And veggie burgers are nothing like a good cheeseburger.  Sure, it LOOKED like a cheeseburger but it tasted like dried chili on a bun.  Look, chili on a bun is good and so is a cheeseburger.  But, don't try to trick me.  That's like putting a dress on a dog and calling it my date.

Fuel was added to the fire when a new sugar substitute came out that you can bake cookies with.  It's even made from real sugar.  Really?  So are cookies.  Here's a thought, how about we bake cookies with sugar?  I  know, I know, it has half the calories of sugar.  That just means that we can eat twice as many cookies.

Then, Pepsi made "throwback".  It's Pepsi but it's made with "real sugar.  Real sugar?  Holy crap, what have I been drinking all theses years?  "High fructose corn syrup", did you have to remind me?  I mean, that was just the equivalent of Pepsi taking the dress of the dog and saying, "Ha ha, we fooled you".

But this latest discovery defies logic.  I don't even have a punchline for this one.  Again, it starts with my daughter who sends me to the store to get her some crackers.  I'm in the cracker isle and I see something that actually makes me freeze with fear of what the world has done to shopping.  As I am scanning the many varieties of saltine crackers that are available, I actually see a box that has the word, "Unsalted" on it.  UN-salted saltines.  Unsalted saltine crackers. I can't say it enough.

I can see past the sugar free ice cream.  I can ignore sugar free candy.  I can understand, but refuse to buy, decaffeinated coffee.  But, unsalted saltines?  How can you possibly have unsalted salti...it's IN the name?!  SALTines without salt is just "ines".  

Tiger Woods puts balls in a whole - big deal

 I'm getting tired of hearing about Tiger Woods and all the women that he has slept with.  For the life of me, I can't figure out what makes this guy so famous.  He plays GOLF for a living people.  What purpose does that serve?  I mean, he hits a ball into a hole...big deal.  I tear out old bathrooms and kitchens and rebuild them into new bathrooms and kitchens, at least that serves a purpose.  This guys puts (or Putts) a ball into a hole and becomes a famous millionaire while I am struggling to buy groceries.  Does that seem right to you?

Sure, it takes some skill to hit a ball into a hole.  I'm not saying it's easy.  But people call him an athlete?  Oh please!!!  Hand him an 80 pound jackhammer and have him chisel up 1,200 square feet of floor tile and carry it down 3 flights of stairs and I MIGHT consider him an athlete.  All he does is hit this little ball into a hole with a golf club that only weighs a few ounces and women are lining up to sleep with him?  Where's my entourage of women who would love a new kitchen or bathroom?  What kind of athleticism does it take to drive a golf cart?

Obviously, I have the minority opinion here and I'm sure I will hear many arguments from this post.  Personally, I find it much more impressive to do remodeling work than to put a ball into a hole but the net worth speaks for itself.  Golfing is a huge industry.  Personally, I think it's the most boring sport and I am using the term “Sport” very loosely.  I mean “sport” as in chess, not “sport” as in football or baseball or hockey.  Now, if Tiger Woods could hit a ball into a hole while being chased by Warren Sapp, THAT might be a good sport.  Yeah, if someone “hiked” the ball to him and he had to fire off a shot while 300 pounds of linebacker was closing in on him, that would be a REAL sport.