Holy crap in a Bundt pan... Due to the recent well-publicized shortage of amateur websites produced by assholes who think they're clever, I have been called into action. My name is Jeff Kay, and I’m an Ugly American living on the cusp of a mid-life crisis. And I’m here to serve, baby. Last updated
05/15/08 05:06 PM

 

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  Willard "Bill" Hershberger

 

Jeff & Toney's 5 Year Light Bulbs


Installed 11/17/2007
Current status: all 3 functioning normally

The View From Down Here
A journal of sorts, updated every once in a while.

May 15, 2008

Handy scorecard for rating wives

-- Last night at work I sat with some kid during our “lunch” break (9 pm), and found out some interesting things about him. He’s twenty, and will be working in my department until his college classes crank back up in late August. And apparently he was once a notorious computer hacker.

He told me he got into it in eighth grade, and eventually earned a name for himself in the shady hacker underground. He says there’s a tight-knit group of these people, who communicate via chat rooms not visible to anyone but the participants themselves.

And, he added, some of them are “scary and crazy,” with giant chips on their shoulders and various axes to grind. Accidentally offend one of them, he said, and your life can become a hell on earth. No matter how smart you happen to be, there are people there who are smarter, he told me. And they can inflict significant pain.

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May 14, 2008

42.9 cents per gallon in 1971

-- I work with a woman who apparently believes everybody knows who she knows. Are you familiar with this office type? She tells a lot of stories featuring "Keith" and "Nicole" and "Jimmy," and I have no idea who these people are. Her kids?  Her husband? You got me.

A few days ago she mentioned Keith, and I said, "Now who is he again?" And she said, "
My Keith."

What does this mean??

-- On Friday evening I was enlisted to make a salad to go with dinner, and I used it as an opportunity to drink beer. Yes, you read that correctly… I hollered upstairs to Toney, "Hey, if I'm gonna be chopping, I'm having a Sam Adams. Want one?"

See how I do that? Any deviation from the norm is an excuse for beer. And, now that I think about it, so is the norm itself. So I went down to the basement fridge, and brought us up two bottles of Summer Ale. And I commenced to making one of my world famous garden salads.

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May 13, 2008

The only kind of seafood I'll eat

-- I was sitting in Wendy's a few days ago, enjoying a #1 with cheese, no pickles, and a Coke, when a gang of rambunctious Brazilians came in.

I assume it was a large family traveling together, but what do I know about it, really? There were five or six adults, a couple in their forties, the rest younger. With them was a half-dozen or so kids, all under the age of six. And the kids were running wild without even
a hint of parental supervision.

But whatever. Children rampaging through a place of business isn't exactly a novelty anymore... I continued working on my lunch and flipping through the copy of
Rolling Stone I'd brought along, so as not to look like a serial killer (ironically enough).

And the next thing I know there's a little girl sitting across from me in the boof – eating my fries.

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May 12, 2008

Franchise opportunities available!

-- Last week I received an email from Netflix saying they'd sent me a copy of I Am Legend, and the next day something called P.S. I Love You arrived. What the hell's P.S. I Love You? I didn't know, and still don't. I'm a very busy man; I don't have time for jibber-jabber.

I went to the website and
I Am Legend was still at the top of my queue. But they were asking me to review it, since they'd just received the movie back from me(?!). What in the pop 'n' lock crap?

I was totally confused. They mailed it to me, but I received something else, and it's set to ship next, even though they already sent one, and I returned it, which I didn't. The whole thing made my brain hurt.

I clicked over to the customer service section of the site, expecting to be asked to compose an email explaining my problem, which would be promptly answered in 3 to 4 weeks. But I was given an actual telephone number, under which was written, "Current wait time: less than 1 minute."

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May 8, 2008

Not Just Another Bus Station Bench

-- I was flipping through my England notes earlier today (I'm dying to go back already…), and noticed a few stray stories I didn't tell in the big honkin' London extravaganza. So, I'm going to tell them to you now.

Hopefully enough time has passed that you're not all groaning in unison right now… I worry about England
fatigue, and turning into a travel-bore. Nobody likes a travel-bore.

Anyway, when we were touring the Churchill Cabinet Rooms, the youngest Secret had to find a pee-catcher. I asked a guy at the ticket counter where the "washroom" was located, and he halfheartedly pointed in a general direction.

We found it, and there were international symbols on the door apparently indicating it could be used only by water-headed men, titless women in hoop skirts, and/or sexless beings strapped to wheelchairs and staring straight ahead.

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May 6, 2008

See the details of Dwight's Chart

-- On Saturday we came home and there was a sheet of paper taped to our front door. It was from one of those outfits that douse your lawn in a cocktail of chemicals, to keep it forest-green and free of weeds, for an irresponsible amount of money every month.

Supposedly they’d taken the liberty of performing a “jr. analysis” of our lawn, and told us we have a problem with dandelions. Jr. analysis? That seemed like odd phrasing. But then I realized they must do the same thing for a fee, and have to differentiate between the two somehow. You know, so the suckers won’t feel bad.

Anyway, I looked at our lawn and didn’t see a single dandelion. What were they talking about? Is this thing pre-printed for every house in the neighborhood? I didn’t know, and didn’t really care. I wadded up the sheet and threw it in the trash.

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May 5, 2008

Sweetening the deal with crab meat

-- Last week I was perusing the massive Surf Report music library, in search of something I hadn’t played in a while. I finally settled on Wilco’s second album, Being There. And it sounded amazing.

The thing was in heavy rotation when it was originally released, and is one of my favorite Wilco albums, but I probably hadn’t heard it in a year. I’ve been preoccupied with their latest release, which is also great.

I was caught off-guard by the impact of hearing
Being There
last week. I mean, it’s not as if it’s unfamiliar to me. But I couldn’t stop listening to it, and talking about it to the family. Who, you know, couldn’t give even half a shit.

This event touched off a full-on frenzy. On Saturday I removed all music from my iPod, and replaced it with the entire Wilco catalog, including the live album and a bunch of bootlegged demos. Heck, I even included the freaky radio broadcast that inspired the title of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.

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May 2, 2008

Color-coded rubberized wine handles

-- Today I had lunch at Wendy’s where I polished off a #1 with cheese, no pickles, and a Coke. And while I was standing at the condiment bar, collecting all necessary lunching equipment, this conversation took place between me and a woman cleaning tables in the dining room:

Wendy’s employee: Well, hello Joe!
Me: Hey there, how ya doing?
Wendy’s employee: Oh, can’t complain, can’t complain. How are those girls?
Me: Doing well. They’re growing up fast.
Wendy’s employee: Ha! You don’t need to tell me about it. My two are already up and out of the house.
Me: Amazing, isn’t it? 
Wendy’s employee: It sure is. …Well, I don’t want to hold up your lunch. Tell Linda I said hi.
Me: I’ll certainly do it. Take care.

Never saw her before in my life.

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Contents copyright © 2000-2008 by Jeffrey S. Kay. All rights reserved. And here's more legal crap to ponder. Snail mail: The WV Surf Report  PO Box 4  Olyphant, PA  18447  Electronic mail: info(at)thewvsr.com