So, I’m sitting here a prisoner of my own home, at the hands of Federal Express. Or, as some of you name-shortening hipsters are fond of calling them, Fed-Ex… My new phone is supposed to be delivered today, and a signature is required. Grrr…
I’m down here in the bunker, relying on Andy (Black Lips Houlihan) to alert me to the package’s arrival. I’m expecting him to engage his patented combination of barking, snarling, turning of back-flips, and lightning-fast pawing of the front door while standing upright like a man. That’s right, patented. We have the government document framed and hanging in the upstairs hallway.
I have lots of things I need to do, but REALLY don’t want to miss that delivery. I love the gadgetry. Plus, if I miss it today, I’ll be a prisoner again tomorrow. Unless, of course, I go to the Fed-Ex sorting center in Crack Cyst, Pennsylvania, after 8 pm tonight. So, I need to wait it out…
I woke up this morning with a sore throat. I feel reasonably OK, except for my throat. There also seems to be something going on in the mucus department, but it’s still early days. Nothing is dripping yet, but I can tell there’s something askew deep inside my right nose hole. Fantastic… fan-flappin’-tastic.
Toney is spending the day with her cousin, in Philadelphia. So, I’ve been assigned the task of providing dinner for me and the boys. And that means one thing: we’ll be eating out tonight. Probably at Moe’s. It’s one of the few inexpensive restaurants we can all agree on. The older hooligan is picky as hell, and complicates matters. But he’s down with Moe’s, and that’s where we’ll undoubtedly end up.
Yeah, I know. I could go to the store and buy a bunch of healthy vegetables, and some lean meat… and prepare a nice meal for everyone. But, let’s be serious here. That shit ain’t gonna happen.
They love it when I’m put in charge of things, because it will probably be Moe’s, ice cream, and an assortment of Little Debbie snacks. Toney tries to keep a handle on things around here, but all bets are off when she’s in Philly. I might even go to Grand Rental Station, rent a caterer-grade chocolate fountain, and fill it with liquefied cheese food.
We’ll just have to play it by ear.
And holy shit! The phone just arrived. Is there a more exciting vision than this one? Of course there is. But it’s pretty damn great, nonetheless. Later, I’ll surrender myself, fully and completely, to the Droid Bionic. Ahhh… I love fresh gadgetry.
Yesterday Verizon sent an email inviting me to an “Android Advanced Workshop,” tomorrow night from 6:30 to 8:00. Have any of you attended such a thing? Is there any value? I always feel like I’m only utilizing about 20% of my phone’s potential, so it’s mildly intriguing. Do you have any experience with Verizon workshops? Are they any good?
I’m not working again until Sunday, and have a million things I want to accomplish between now and then. So, I’m going to cut this one a bit short, and get started on the to-do list — now that Fed-Ex has set me free.
First stop: the post office. All your shirts are going out today. I tried to mail them yesterday afternoon, but stormed out in a huff. It’s a long story… But they’re definitely going today, first class. So, you should have ’em by Friday, I’d guess.
I’m down to only eight shirts, and six of those are SMALL. What am I going to do with all those SMALLs? If you’re the size of a third grader, and want one, just buy me a beer ($7 or more), and I’ll send one to ya. That’s for the SMALLs only. OK?
And that’s gonna do it, boys and girls. I don’t really have a question, so you guys can just take it from here. Anything goes, as usual. Since I told you what I’m doing with my Tuesday, maybe you can tell us what you’re doing with yours? Or, if you’d like to talk about picky eaters — our oldest and several extended family members fall into the category — please do so. I don’t understand having an issue with, or being afraid of, almost every food in the world. But whatever.
I’ll be back tomorrow.
Now playing in the bunker
Treat yourself at Amazon: US and Canada
Der Erste?
Ja!
I”m going to have a bone density test. I’ll be the only man in a clinic with about 50 women patients if history is any guide. Terrible place to meet women; good place to listen to podcasts.
jtb
What are they using to measure bone density? I had a DEXA scan about a year ago… I actually did it to check my body fat %, but it also gave me info on bone density. Pretty cool.
I don’t have very comprehensive health insurance, so they just have a fat woman sit on each arm and each leg to see if they snap. Or if I do.
jtb
Damn dude, I just coughed, sneezed, burped and farted at the same time after reading that.
Jimbo…
Just got back from my test. Yup, it was a DEXA. When it came time to measure my body fat %, the fat lady sang.
Despite the sad news, I continue to favor these analog readouts.
jtb
I like the analog ones myself. Radio Shack used to sell these: http://media.photobucket.com/image/vu%20meter/yrdbrd/Effects%20Boxes/Picture002.jpg?o=109 – but now the “electronics hobbyist” is practically extinct.
I live just off the DC Beltway, at about nine o’clock. Do kids today understand such a statement? Are kids today able to read an analog altimeter? I worry about these things.
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Gonna blow away today. 65 mph winds in vegas.
On picky eaters:
Our brood are easy, go with the flow, “whatever you’re having” eaters. My sister’s kids power trip all over her ass with food pickiness, and it drives me up the wall every time she caves.
Just before she visits, I get a long email with “dos” and “don’ts” for loading the fridge before their arrival. What a load of crap.
Also, they HAVE to eat dinner at 6 pm. Hell, we eat when we are hungry, which might be 5 pm or 8 pm. If sis doesn’t see pots boiling and veggies slicing by 5:40 pm, she is doing back flips all over my kitchen, while we’re in front of the big ass TV enjoying ourselves.
Can’t stand it.
My Tuesday: meeting after meeting after meeting. Same old.
I’m not a picky ass eater.
As long as there aren’t any dingle berries or obvious poop-crud I dive in lips first.
now, let’s see what this update is all about.
I gave up eating ass for Lent.
Syrup or jelly?
Raw hole.
Mmmm . . . fresh electronics. I envy you, JK.
Oh man, that’s not what we’re talking about.
Is there a way to delete this message?
OMG, it’s, uh. my new phone. LOL:)
I can’t believe autocorrect is real.
My little brother was the picky eater. Insisted that BLT stood for bacon, lettuce, toast, wouldn’t let a tomato within three feet of his plate. If he found a lump in his mashed taters…forget it. Fried chicken? He would only eat legs so he always had first choice, fuck man you don’t think I’d like a goddam drumstick every once in a while? I know there’s a few more but just thinking of how many drumsticks that cock-gobbler screwed me out of is making me angry.
Tuesday…I voted, that’s something you don’t get to do on an average Tuesday.
I’m a breast man…
A good friend of mine is a real picky eater. She doesn’t eat meat but she also doesn’t eat eggs. She’s got this “thing” about eggs. But even with the shit she does eat, it always comes with high drama. If she orders an American Cheese sndwich, she only wants one lonely slice of cheese, and the tomatoes have to be placed just so, and “DON’T USE THAT KNIFE BY THE MAYO!” I know 2 deli workers who refuse to wait on her.
THEN she proceeds to remove the singular slice and cut it into militant strips then place the whole mess back on the bread. (at this point I’m usually done with my fod. I learned a long time ago – fuck it, can’t be patient and wait).
When she orders a slice of pizza, she has to remove part of the cheese (I never figured that one out) and then eats it crust side first in a very methodical, patterened method. Drives me bonkers but I tolerate it.
if she didn’t have a great, caring heart I’d probably run a fork through her jugular.
And another friend learned the hard way – never go grocery shopping with her. She scrutinizes the labels as if they mysteriously contain the cure for cancer.
Well, Jeffro…..my Tues. is a day off…….I decided to “flake and bake”……Humboldt and Bud Light Platinum…….peace, bro….
Ahhhhhh. Cough. Cough.
My Tuesday is pretty boring, consisting of having my teeth molested by the dentist and then going to the grocery store afterwards.
As for picky eaters, I have known many. I had a friend once who would only eat candy, I am not kidding. She spent entire food stamp checks on candy, and would eat that with soda. The only real food I ever saw her eat was white bread, toasted. There is no way she is going to live past forty, and her dentist probably has a field day every time she visits.
My uncle is also quite picky, but his appetite always changes with moods. For example, one day he will eat egg salad, and the next day he will refuse, saying he “doesn’t eat food that smells like farts”. He will also eat at the same restaurant for weeks, or even months in a row, until he gets sick of it and never wants to return, even five or ten years later. It is quite frustrating when you want to go eat out, but half of the places you chose he will refuse to eat at for that reason.
My mouth got molested yesterday!
Today I am going to do something with my life!
I went to the university during the week for work reasons and went past a room in the dentistry wing where they teach biology. Inside were five large plastic tubs half filled with a liquid and labeled: Heads, upper limbs, torsos, pelvis, legs. I really wanted to look inside but the dog food smell was putting me off. Okay, who can top that?
I work in a wound care clinic. The smells at times could make a fly too sick to eat shit.
Tuesday?…fuck it dude…I’m goiing bowling.
Tuesday? I can get you a toe. With polish. By 12:00.
It’s a league game, Smokey.
I’m calmer than you are…
Hey, careful, man. There’s a beverage here!
Just because we’re bereaved, doesn’t mean we’re saps!
Yeah, well, that’s just, like, your opinion, man.
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are those tee shirts a mens small??
Pretty much a non-day for me at work. Took a vacation day yesterday, planned on doing my service calls today, but ended up with a staff meeting this morning, had to setup our streaming system for a board meeting occuring tonight, and I just got back from my doctors appointment just a short while ago. So grand sum of things done today: Three. If it wasn’t for the board meeting setup I coulda buggered off into the county for a nice drive and knock out all my service calls.
Tommorow, its going to be hectic. I gotta be on two opposite ends of our service area that has a pesky city blocking a nice quick sprint across a few counties. Damn street racing law keeping me from getting work done… (>30mph over the limit, instant liscense suspension for a week, vehicle impounded for a week) back in the ‘old days’ I had all manner of deserted roads cutting around the area I could peg the old work truck against the rev limiter and get from one end to the other in record time…
I worked from home today, voted and shot at a pesky squirrel with a BB gun. Very productive day.
Only two names on the ballot today: Romney and Paul.
On my Tuesday I voted, went to a meeting, and fielded support calls from service techs. In between I got a little of my real work done. I went to “King Pollo” for a delicious and inexpensive lunch.
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Picky eating: my boss says he’s allergic to olives and olive oil, that they make his throat close up and precipitate an emergency room visit. Yet he eats Italian food. Another co-worker refuses to eat soup of any kind. A certain young lady of my acquaintance is “skeeved” by poultry on the bone. I myself have hated bananas since childhood, and I still fear sea urchin sushi (uni). I’m also not interested in tasting durian.
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Jeff – Beer is on the way, I’ll take a SMALLs please. Grassy-ass.
and so doth the world turn…
my older brother, the living one, will not allow any food on his plate to touch. all foods are spaced in separated piles on the plate. he even takes a napkin and blots the juice up so it would offend any of the other food. one day, he got up from the table and we mixed all his food up. boy was he furious. he didn’t eat…
10cc was the soundtrack of my Tuesday.
Not feeling so great today… Probably won’t update. Sorry.
Get better soon, Jeff. Here’s a little something to make you smile:
http://flavorwire.com/266679/weird-human-figures-assembled-from-album-cover-art#more-266679
Yesterday afternoon I went home early to meet the cable guy. We had 2 new DVR’s installed last week (2 rooms), each with 2 tuners, with the prospect of networking them to double the effective recording capacity of each–plus each has a 500GB drive. You’d think “sweet!”, but there’s a catch. The interface sucks, switching between tuners is far from seamless, there’s no slow motion feature (crucial for sports watching). AND they stopped networking over the weekend. So after an hour on the phone on Sunday, a tech came out yesterday and basically checked the connectors and signals (the same thing that the installer did last week) and then called the office to talk to someone that knew what the fuck was going on. The network passwords had shit the bed, ergo no communication. That was reset (remotely) and the tech left feeling like he actually did something.
They could have sent Larry out, and he’d have had the same result.
I should have gone for a bone test.
Hope Jeff doesn’t have what I’ve had, today was the first day in the last eleven where I felt almost normal again. Only missed 1.5 days of work but I can’t say a lot got done when I was there during that time. Two of the days I fell asleep at my desk.
Get well soon, I need my fix.
Yesterday at work, a coworker was selling Girl Scout cookies for his daughter’s troop. I bought some, but jokingly said that I used to be a Cub Scout. Today, I wore a Cub Scout shirt to work. Patches and all. It belongs to my fiancee who wore it when he was all of 11, maybe? It fits me to a ‘T’. He is a giant now (to me…over 6 feet tall).
Me? Yes…I’m a womens size small. Or a Cub Scout size teeny. What of it? Note to clothing and shoe makers: Just because I am 4’11” and can still fit into kids shoes size 4 or a kids 14/16 does NOT mean I want to wear Dora the Explorer, sparkles and gemstones on my feet or have the word “Juicy” puff-painted across the ass of my pants. And, please take your Peter Pan collars from the Petites section and stick ’em.
Thank you.
Congrats on the impending nuptials.
John
I knew a woman who had to buy sample shoes because her feet were so small.