Yesterday morning my alarm started its goddamn chirping at 9:30. When I work, I usually get to bed between 3:00 and 3:30, and six hours is plenty of sleep, thank you very much. The alarm goes off on those days, always at the same time.
But I’m having some trouble, my friends… Yesterday, for instance, I woke up and looked at the clock. I knew I’d hit the snooze button a few times, but figured it couldn’t be any later than 10:00. Ha! It was 12:19.
This is becoming an issue. I’m sleeping way too much, and Toney blames it on the stress. She’s probably right. I think I’m hiding behind the wall of sleep, as the Smithereens might say. Even on non-work days I’m overdoing it with the sack time, and it’s not laziness; I’m not just wallowing around, refusing to get up. I’m sleepin’.
Yesterday I couldn’t update the site because of this crap, and today Toney set two alarm clocks for me: the regular one, which gets slapped into submission, and another one way across the room. The second clock requires me to get out of bed to stop the racket. Today it did the trick, but I’ll work it into the routine soon. I’ll just adapt, and a third clock might be required. Then a fourth.
And if you guys knew the story behind all the crazy stress, you wouldn’t believe it. I told my friend Bill about it a few days ago, and all he could say was, “Wait… What?” Someday I’ll give you the whole story. Sweet sainted mother of Jason J. Delmonico!
A few days ago at work I was preparing to have a meeting with my “team” (bullshit corporate speak pisses me off, which probably doesn’t help matters), and they were spread all around the room. I was standing in the middle, and said, “Can you guys move to one side, please? I can’t do this ‘in the round.’ I’m not Kenny Rogers.”
Nothing but crickets. Nobody knew what the hell I was talking about, and most of them probably don’t even know who Kenny Rogers is. I have underwear older than some of those people… I frequently feel like a relic from a different era, like I should be out chasing a hoop with a stick, or whatever.
I had a teacher in Junior High who used antiquated phrases all the time, and we’d all just howl with laughter. Especially when she’d say to some smartass kid, “You think you’re the cock of the walk, don’t you?” We’d practically piss ourselves whenever she broke that one out. And now I feel like I might be edging in her direction.
Shit. Maybe I should just quit my job, and start riding the rails? I’m about the right age to embrace the hobo lifestyle, right? I could probably get some good thinking done while standing around a burning barrel in fingerless gloves. It’s definitely something to consider.
Here’s something that made me laugh, or at least snort: Surf Reporter Joel forwarded me a link about Cal Ripken Jr. being identified as “Carl” on TBS. Check it out. It’s very close to what Nostrils called him, a few years ago. Heh.
And you know how I’m always complaining about people shitting at work? Some of them immediately upon arrival? Well, I think there’s a lot more texting going on, than shitting. I believe people are going into a stall, sitting on a toilet, and playing around with their phones for 20 minutes. ‘Cause there seems to be a massive uptick in dumping, but a marked decline in funking. What are your thoughts on this? Am I way off? I don’t think I am.
This morning I thought my computer was fixin’ to die. It started moving like it was on AOL circa 1996, then completely seized-up. I couldn’t get it to do anything, and finally had to unplug it from the wall. It took forever to boot-up again, and was clattering and clacking like a Tom Waits album. Eventually it came back to life, and I downloaded this program. I ran a full system scan, and it found more than a thousand problems. The program supposedly fixed all the issues, and my machine is running super-fast now. It’s amazing. You might want to check it out. It’s free, and I’ve only been using it for a couple of hours. But so far I’m thinking it’s pretty kick-ass.
And speaking of Kenny Rogers (I mentioned him, right?), I was thinking about writing and recording a country album. No, I can’t sing, play an instrument, or write a song. But that’s beside the point. I believe I could come up with some decent country/western song titles, if I put my mind to it. And that’s 90% of the battle, right?
In fact, maybe we can work on that project together? I’ll start the ball rolling with three songs I’ve come up with, and maybe you guys can take it from there? Together we can build a more perfect country album. What do you say?
Here are my offerings, to get the ball rolling:
“She’s Black (and I’m Blue)”
“I Thought I Saw the Light at the End of the Tunnel (But It Was Only a Chip in My Glasses)”
“Don’t Put Your Wipin’ Hand in the Cracker Barrel”
If you have anything to add to this dubious exercise, or anything else mentioned above, please use the comments link. And I’ll be back tomorrow. No work on Thursday, so it should be smooth sailing.
Thanks for reading, folks. I appreciate you coming here every day. I really do.
See ya tomorrow!
Now playing in the bunker
Follow Jeff on Twitter and Facebook
Yessireebob.
Damnit – wanted to be #1 for once!
Perhaps Bill Oates could update his blog with details on the source of Mr. Oates’s work-related stress. http://billoates.blogspot.com/
Jeff – those people are probably ‘sexting’ from the toilet. Where else can you be naughty and naked and protected from management from being harrassed about it by management.
Don’t shake the wiping hand indeed…..
Boy – what kind of butchery of the English language was that? Try again:
“Where else can you be naughty and naked and protected from being harrassed by management about it.”
I went the multiple alarm clock route years ago. It’s a loosing game, son. I ended up making a contraption out in my garage. You clip it to your ear lobes when you go o bed and it delivers an electric shock when it’s time for you to wake up. I could send you the plans.
I’m also way behind the times. Works both ways for me. Some kid will mumble a phrase and I just stare a him like a shit chucking ape.
Isn’t Kenny Rogers the chicken guy?
Pitcher for the Indians, I think.
When you made your Kenny Rogers reference, your co-workers were probably thinking, “What’s this got to do with fried chicken?!”…dang whippersnappers!
Country song titles:
“I Fell in Love with Crystal (Meth)”
“We’re Still Kin, Even Though We’re Divorced”
“Trailer Park Hoedown”
Fiddlin’ Shoes
Don’t Forget About Me Jesus (when I’ve got sheep-lovin’ on my mind)
this is the alarm clock you need. there is another one that flies off and hides but i can’t find it now. but anyways here ya go.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JXfP_NbUaRE
I’d have this in pieces after the first “chase”.
Then again, it would have to go through the obstacle course of shoes and shit across the floor of the room and would probably beocme disabled.
yea i didn’t consider all the stuff on the floor, it’s the same at my house. i did find a video of a flying alarm clock it’s kinda weak though. they also make a clock that you have to solve a puzzle before it turns off . heres the vid for “flying alarm clock”
yea i didn’t consider all the stuff on the floor, it’s the same at my house. i did find a video of a flying alarm clock it’s kinda weak though. they also make a clock that you have to solve a puzzle before it turns off . heres the vid for “flying alarm clock”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TW-lRARx47c&feature=related
they’re not texting, they’re playing words with friends. how do I know this?……
I think maybe a part of your sleeping pattern could have to do with it being so damn gloomy out in the east coast. Nothing but rain for days on end doesn’t make me want to spring out of bed. Plus, I get up at 5:45 and it’s friggin’ pitch black out.
“I Got A Plug Of Tobaccy Wedged In My Windpipe”
“I Boinked Her In her Beehive”
“Street Surfin’ With My Ford 450”
“Spotlight on Kenny Rogers In The Round”
“Got So Drunk, I Fucked My Fender Guitar”
HA!
am still trying to work bugs out of my invention
garage door opener attached to head of bed
will stand bed up against wall at preset time
no way you can go back to sleep
Hi, I’m Kenny Rogers. . .
And I am the First Addition.
I was thinking of the old Mad TV sketch.
“Hole in my heart and corn in my shit”
“The tears on my pillow just might be boogers”
“I’ve been lovin’ the wrong hole”
There’s a wrong hole?
Country fried stake through my heart
NASCAR hearted, state fair headed
Don’t take your cellphone fishin’
Is the stores related to that old bat that your kids vandalized?
My Momma, My Sister, and Me (The Two of Us Alone)
The Wife Kicked the Dog (So I Punched Her in the Face)
The Cabbage Patch Shuffle
Murdering Faith Hill
All Outta Booze, Guess I’ll Just Kill Myself
Don’t Welcome your Kind (‘Round Here)
Rubber Boots on the Farm
Makin’ Love to the Hay Stack
Broke Down Truck, Guess I’ll Just Kill Myself
Deer Huntin’ and Chicken Fuckin’
Live in the Sticks, Guess I’ll Just Kill Myself
Motor Boat You on my My Motor Boat
If They’re All Your Daughters (Polygamy is Fine)
Square Dance at Dawn
Liquor from a Plastic Bag
My Brother Stole My Chaw (And my Heart)
Plowin’ the Bean Field
Reloader Blues
Run a (Wagon) Train on my Wife
Sent Back to Prison, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
You Can Stay the Night (Just Don’t Fuck My Wife)
Bitch Ran Off with My Biggest Stuffed Fish
Put on Yer Dancin’ Shoes (Walmart Here We Come)
I didn’t get the Kenny Rogers joke either. Can someone explain it to me, I hate being out of the loop.
Ron, I was thinking about the same thing, but I know I’ll just lay on the floor and try to sleep. Going to need a conveyor belt to haul me to the shower…
You are kidding, right? If not, KR used to do a lot of “in the round” shows, where the stage was in the center of the arena and he performed to all sides of the place, so nobody felt left out. I think this is also how he got the idea for his chicken joints.
No, I wasn’t kidding. Thanks for the enlightenment.
Neil Diamond did/does these kinds of concerts, too. I took my parents and my aunt in 1992. Freaking great concert! No, really…
http://articles.philly.com/1996-12-30/news/25642749_1_prussia-mall-wfil-free-tickets
I thought it was because Kenny Rogers was fat, aka in the round, on account of all the fried chicken.
I Humped a Mermaid, Some People Call Them Fish
Spotlighting with the Sherriff
Big Tractor Small Penis
Crosseyed, Hunchbacked, Hairliped, and Bald
My Best Friend is My Dog and He Hates My Guts
Don’t Put Up With Racists ‘Round Here, and Spics Neither
The Mystery of Magnets
Moonshine by Daylight
Two Cars and Seven Blocks Blues
That Sign With All The Bullet Holes In It
Family Reunion in Cell Block D
Four Brothers but only Three Holes (Who’s a Girl to Do)
Not sure what’s going on over there, but I hope it’s no where near as bad as you’ve made it sound.
? HANG IN THERE!
The computer program promises to “keep your PC feeling fresh and clean.”
Apparently Jeff’s PC just needed an electronic douche.
Jeff,
I kinda figured you for a Smithereens fan. You probably have heard this band but if not, check out Love Burns by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. Good stuff..
“If I Had A Quarter For Every Tooth I Lost, I’d Have $5.75”
“Tore My Hefty Bag Open At The Laundromat”
“Possum and Squirrel Casserole Blues”
“A Suitcase Of Beer Suds to Wash Away My Broken Heart”
“Growin’ My Beard Past My Titties”
‘Forever and Ever (My Chinless Tina)’
Walmart on my Mind
Jiminy Cricket–gawd. What…oh, wait. That was a reference to the silence after your comment about KR in the round. Jeeezzz. Well, I guess nowadays if somebody performed in the round people would see all the electronic gear they got belted to their backsides to make them sound good….where was I…Listen, I find myself at the threshhold of my so-called golden years with no retirement and no job, so this column is as close as I can get to any form of therapy. Scary, huh. Anyway, when I was about 4 years old or so, my mom took a notion to inform me that there was something living in my stomach, “down here,” she said, and patted her abdomen, that told me when I did something wrong. My active imagination immediately lit upon the current star of the day, Jiminy Cricket. Yes, folks, I immediately became convinced I had a bug living in my stomach, upon which, I immediately set about trying to smother that creature living uninvited in my innards with food. Of course, I was also immediately smitten with an attack of conscience because Jiminy Cricket had vaguely annoyed me with his platitudes and smug songs of encouragement to “do the right thing.” And here I had him living inside my guts. To this day I cannot stand crickets, and I have yet to kill one. And, yes, I continue to struggle with my weight. There’s more to it than that, of course, but I trace the original trauma, as they call it, to my mother’s ill-advised attempts to get me to behave even if she wasn’t around to monitor. What might help me most here is if some of ya’ll could relate any childhood traumas similar to this caused by well meaning parents or other authority figures in your lives. Thank you.
My Treatments Ain’t Workin’ No More
Chewin’ On The Dog Bone Of My Life
Hell Bent Me Over The Fence
My Heart Skips A Beat (When I Get You Off Your Feet)
Pappa Warned Me (She’s A Barnyard Tom Cat)
“The Devil Went Down to Scranton”
“Mothers, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Writers”
“Lewisburg Blues”
My first alarm clock is my cell phone. The second one is loud and obnoxious and is in a room across the hall. They are set for 4:57 and 5:00am respectively.
Jeff sounds as though his stress is like mine: what with all the firings, quittings and layoffs, I now have a double-to-triple workload, and it was not small before. Yet management says business is so slow that we have to freeze wages for the next 12 months.
The Jiminy Cricket character was voiced by Cliff “Ukulele Ike” Edwards, a huge celebrity that nobody has heard of.
Thank you, and good night.
.
I thought Jiminy was voiced by Otis the town drunk.
Thanks, Ed. That explains a lot…
“I’ll be your Honey Boo Boo (If you’ll be my Sugar Bear)”
“Bite Me (then go fuck yourself)”
“Oops! I farted again”
“Take this finger and pull it”
“fuckin in the butt” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIG6y0jErPg
And my Grand Opus:
“I’d wish you fuck the shit outta me (like you use to)”
I heard a real (non-comedy) blues song on the radio that went “You got to bone me like you own me.” That may or may not be the title; the singer sounded like her name ought to be Big Mama Somethingorother.
.
Big Barbara Carr:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zZWe2w03hU4
I’d wish you’d fuck the shit outa me like grandma used to do with a spoon.
Lori….thanks for the laugh!! Hilarious!
Lick it before you stick it
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1LLWVqUZvT0&feature=related
I think I’ll use this one as my theme song hahaha
Wow! If you were Lori In DC, I’d suspect you of listening to WPFW.
And also: Daang, girl.
.
Texting in bathroom
In my last employment situation I had a co-worker who would go to the men’s room and play Angry Birds for upwards of a 1/2 hour.
Song titles
If you leave me we’ll still be cousins
Ode to a waffle house waitress
Throw another possum on the fire
Like Drivin’ thru Cooter (Mo)
Dog train for my baby
Midget stripper Baby done left
Skeeter & Ronnie run the hoe down
I’m sorry to all the Country fans out there- I slipped more into “Redneck” mode. Maybe I should put a little Vince Gill on the radio and cry myself to sleep.
You have nothing to apologize for…country music is TOTALLY mockable. Just think of the 5 worst things that’s ever happened to you, put it to music and voila–you’ve got yourself a country song!
Herpes hate crime fired tranny tranny
So you mean
“They Repossessed My Dead Cat On The Eve My Ass Tipped The Scales At 400 But My baby Daddy Likes Em Fat Cause I Remind Him Of His Momma And My Car Is Up On Blocks And I can’t Pay My K Mart Layaway Bill” is a real song?
Thanks.
Just checking…
K Mart? Isn’t that kinda hoity-toity? Just wondering…
.
“His Fist In My Face (no mo’)”
“Leave My Man Alone (Before I Kill You Dead)”
“My Babies’ Daddies Have All Done Left”
“Whatchoo Lookin’ At? (The Black-Eye Blues)”
“She Ran Off With My Car, But I Still Have My Blizzaks”
“When You Squeal Like A Pig It Reminds Me of Home”
“She Gives A Great Blow Job ‘Cause She Don’t Have No Teeth”
“I Kept Your Sheepskin ‘Cause There’ll Never Be Another Ewe”
If it ain’t broke don’t fix it,
If it don’t go together don’t mix it.
Take what you need,
But not more than what you need.
In this world of up hill climbin’
You can shine jus like a diamon’
Help out your neighbor
You just plant the seed.
Trailer Park Blues
My Dog Got Runned (r)Over
Pickin and Grinnin
I Gots Busted by the Revenuers (Moonshiner Blues)
That Pothole Made Me Fall Off the Turnip Truck
Hey Y’all Watch This