I’ve never talked about this before, but I really need the boards advice on what could be a crucial decision. I’ve suspected for some time now that my wife has been cheating on me.

The usual signs… Phone rings but if I answer, the caller hangs up.
My wife has been going out with the girls a lot recently although when I ask their names she always says, “Just some friends from work, you don’t know them.”

I always stay awake to look out for her taxi coming home, but she always walks down the drive. Although I can hear a car driving off, as if she has gotten out of the car round the corner. Why? Maybe she wasn’t in a taxi?

I once picked her cell phone up just to see what time it was and she went berserk and screamed that I should never touch her phone again and why was I checking up on her.

Anyway, I have never approached the subject with my wife I think deep down I just didn’t want to know the truth, but last night she went out again and I decided to really check on her.

I decided I was going to park my motorcycle next to the garage and then hide behind it so I could get a good view of the whole street when she came home. It was at that moment, crouching behind my bike , that I noticed that the valve covers on my engine seemed to be leaking a little oil.

Is this something I can fix myself or should I take it back to the dealer?

Non calor sed umor est qui nobis incommodat.
It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity.

Di! Ecce hora! Uxor mea me necabit!
God, look at the time! My wife will kill me!

Estne volumen in toga, an solum tibi libet me videre?
Is that a scroll in your toga, or are you just happy to see me?

Lex clavatoris designati rescindenda est.
The designated hitter rule has got to go.

Sentio aliquos togatos contra me conspirare.
I think some people in togas are plotting against me.

Caesar si viveret, ad remum dareris.
If Caesar were alive, you’d be chained to an oar.

Quantum materiae materietur marmota monax si marmota monax materiam possit materiari?
How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

(At a barbeque)
Animadvertistine, ubicumque stes, fumum recta in faciem ferri?
Ever noticed how wherever you stand, the smoke goes right into your face?

More Useful Latin

Sona si Latine loqueris.
Honk if you speak Latin.

Si Hoc Legere Scis Nimium Eruditionis Habes
If you can read this you’re over-educated

Sentio aliquos togatos contra me conspirare.
I think some people in togas are plotting against me.

Vidi Vici Veni
I saw, I conquered, I came

Vacca foeda
Stupid cow

Mihi ignosce. Cum homine de cane debeo congredi.
Excuse me. I’ve got to see a man about a dog.

Raptus regaliter
Royally screwed

Si hoc signum legere potes, operis boni in rebus Latinus alacribus et fructuosis potiri potes!
If you can read this sign, you can get a good job in the fast-paced, high-paying world of Latin!

Gramen artificiosum odi.
I hate Astroturf.

Nihil curo de ista tua stulta superstitione.
I’m not interested in your dopey religious cult.

Noli me vocare, ego te vocabo.
Don’t call me, I’ll call you.

Nullo metro compositum est.
It doesn’t rhyme.

Non curo. Si metrum non habet, non est poema.
I don’t care. If it doesn’t rhyme, it isn’t a poem.

Fac ut gaudeam.
Make my day.

Braccae illae virides cum subucula rosea et tunica Caledonia-quam elenganter concinnatur!
Those green pants go so well with that pink shirt and the plaid jacket!

Visne saltare? Viam Latam Fungosam scio.
Do you want to dance? I know the Funky Broadway.

Re vera, potas bene.
Say, you sure are drinking a lot.

Utinam barbari spatium proprium tuum invadant!
May barbarians invade your personal space!

Utinam coniurati te in foro interficiant!
May conspirators assassinate you in the mall!

Utinam logica falsa tuam philosophiam totam suffodiant!
May faulty logic undermine your entire philosophy!

Radix lecti
Couch potato

Quo signo nata es?
What’s your sign?

O! Plus! Perge! Aio! Hui! Hem!
Oh! More! Go on! Yes! Ooh! Ummm!

Mellita, domi adsum.
Honey, I’m home.

Tam exanimis quam tunica nehru fio.
I am as dead as the nehru jacket.

Ventis secundis, tene cursum.
Go with the flow.

Totum dependeat.
Let it all hang out.

Te precor dulcissime supplex!
Pretty please with a cherry on top!

Magister Mundi sum!
I am the Master of the Universe!

Fac me cocleario vomere!
Gag me with a spoon!

Te audire no possum. Musa sapientum fixa est in aure.
I can’t hear you. I have a banana in my ear.

Estne volumen in toga, an solum tibi libet me videre?
Is that a scroll in your toga, or are you just happy to see me?

Prehende uxorem meam, sis!
Take my wife, please!

Quantum materiae materietur marmota monax si marmota monax materiam possit materiari?
How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

Nihil est–in vita priore ego imperator Romanus fui.
That’s nothing–in a previous life I was a Roman Emperor.

Recedite, plebes! Gero rem imperialem!
Stand aside plebians! I am on imperial business.

Vescere bracis meis.
Eat my shorts.

Sic faciunt omnes.
Everyone is doing it.

Fac ut vivas.
Get a life.

Anulos qui animum ostendunt omnes gestemus!
Let’s all wear mood rings!

Catapultam habeo. Nisi pecuniam omnem mihi dabis, ad caput tuum saxum immane mittam.
I have a catapult. Give me all the money, or I will fling an enormous rock at your head.

The World’s Best Pet
Thought up: 8.2.03 – 6:40pm
Written: 4.20.04 - 4:20 pm
#30

A little over two years ago I lost my dog in horrible fashion. He wasn’t hit by a car, and he wasn’t drowned in a sea of biscuits and gravy; albeit, both would be “horrible fashion” to die. He was instead running around doing his nightly business, I’m sure on someone else’s lawn, and he found some delectable meats sitting on the road. This is the same poisoned meat that several dogs in the neighborhood surely had been dining on over the past week, as they also had gone to the hospital, and later to “the big open field in the sky.” He was a good dog, and I don’t ever think that he’ll be replaceable… Unless I get something that can do all the tricks he used to, and refrain from all the things he didn’t do, such as hump legs and pee on the carpet. Clearly that nixes out hamsters and crawdads, elephants and snakes, crows and chia pets (they’re not real anyway). But there are several animals that I think deserve the chance to live up to the standards that the great Toby set. For instance:

1.
Civet – This beast is a cross between a cat, a weasel, and a skunk. The have short hair, weasel-like faces and produce an odor from a pouch near their genitals. These guys can live in trees or underground depending on their habitat that they’re in. Who wouldn’t want to have a little guy like this? I think this would be a fine animal to have running around the house, because no matter where you put it, it’ll be happy there… You could put it down in the basement under the piano, and it’d dig a hole and wouldn’t make much noise at all, and if it did, you could just start playing the piano really loud, and I’m sure he’d get scared and shut up. You could put him in the attic and he’d burrow into the insulation, saving you costs on finding a kennel and bedding. I imagine they’d eat most anything, and if you trained him well enough, you could teach him to eat old spiders and insulation. You could let it live under the sink and apparently it’d adapt to eating dishwashing soap, and you could probably take off the cap to the garbage disposal and I bet he’d eat all the chopped up pieces of food that it spits out. That way, he’d have the cleanest little “accidents” of any animal. Rumor has it that he’s got some mean claws though, so you’d probably have to get a sander to keep those things trimmed!

2.
Echidna –This guy is like a porcupine with sharp quills, but has no teeth or ears. He’s in the running because he’s very protective, granted, not protective OF me per se, but still protective. I think that’s a good characteristic to have though. He’s a crafty little fella that won’t bite the mailman, but he falls short in the fact that he can’t hear, making it extremely difficult to teach any commands. He’d have to be really good at sign language. He hibernates in the winter, saving money during those tough winter months when you’ve got to spend big bucks on heating bills and Christmas presents, so that’s a definite advantage. The best aspect of this guy though is that the babies are made in eggs! Can you imagine the size of those omelettes! He’d be in the race just for that alone if I had anything to say about it. Wait, I do. So he’s in the race too.

3.
Jerboa – You may think from his name that he’s a cross between a gerbil and a boa constrictor, but clearly you’d be wrong. Although, come to think about it, that’d be a pretty cool animal itself. However, that’s a different topic, for another day. It’s obvious what a guy like this would contribute to a relationship with me:
a. He’s small.
b. He has legs like a bird.
c. He has ears like a rabbit.
d. A tail like a donkey.
e. And finally, the body of a mouse.
- Clearly several reasons to be added to the “wanted” list. Apparently he can jump upwards of 10 feet high and it is only 8 inches tall at its tallest. Think of all the possibilities. No longer would you need to throw stuff at things stuck in small trees or power lines! You could have your pet Jerboa jump up there and rustle them out of there! Granted, he’s not electrocution-proof, that’s just silly to think so, but I’ll be willing to bet that he’s not smart enough to know he’s not! This would certainly be a pet that I’d have to have at least 15 or 20 of to make it worth my while. I’d imagine the best use for them would be as car deodorizers. You could spray them with scented oils, and save a boatload on those smelly-tree car scents. You could probably also freak a lot of people out and make them think you have a mouse infestation if you put them in your car! But then it’d be all worth it once you told them that it was just your pet Jerboa collection that you keep in your car for the lovely scent they emanate!

4.
Okapi – This strange beast must have been created when the ugliest giraffe decided that a zebra was an attractive animal. Heck I guess it could really happen. To tell you the truth, I don’t really think that this would be a good animal to have as a pet because I’m sure it would be teased a lot, and my personality just couldn’t have that. I’d need to have more background information on how to care for these guys anyway. I guess it’s just that I felt sorry for him because I’m sure nobody would want it as a pet, so I put it in my collection. On a plus side, this guy can clean his ears with his tongue, which is braggable if you’re at a party for animals that do stupid things like lick their ears.

5.
Pangolin – This guy would be a good pet to have if you were sword fighting. He’s impenetrable to most things, so I assume a sword would cascade off his scales. He has a lot of characteristics of an armadillo, but I think destroys the armadillo in cool points as he has a sticky tongue like a frog. Imagine the beauty of sword fighting a lizard while he catches flies with his tongue. Every human in America should have one of these pets. Hell, every living thing should have one, except if you’re a fly or bug that can be caught by a sticky tongue. And if you were one of these bugs, I’d recommend not taking your pet to family gatherings. You’d kill all of your friends and family, but boy would it be a story to tell your new friends. You could probably even convince them to stay your friends forever for fear that you’ll unleash your pet pangolin on them and their families, which is a huge bonus when you’re a small bug.

6.
100% American Beaver — How could you go wrong with a pet beaver? There are a million reasons why any person would want to have a pet beaver!
• Don’t worry about living in the forest anymore! You don’t have to chop your own wood! Send ol’ Sparky out there and have him cut a few logs for you. He’d be happy to. That’s what he was born to do.
• Even if you lived in the city, it’s clearly the best pet to have. Imagine you’ve come home from a long day at the office, and you get into your condo to find that the dinner hasn’t been cooked, and the floor needs sweeping. What better animal than the beaver to cook a gourmet steak dinner for you and then sweep the floor with its tail!
• Think of when you’re cooking cookies, and you always have that laborious job of patting down the brown sugar to fit into that little cup? Hm, what could you possibly use that would pat this down? Tada! A beaver!
• Have you ever been working away at your house using your trusty number 2 pencil and had no place to sharpen it? Problem solved!
• What if you accidentally put your neighbor’s pet skunk in a box and shipped it to China? It wouldn’t matter anymore because what animal looks the most like a skunk without a stripe? Of course the beaver! You could replace the skunk with your beaver (you’d have to draw a stripe on him) and go out and buy a new skunk before your neighbor would even know!
• Don’t go on my word though; think of the safety of your loved ones. Think if a pirate were robbing your house. What do pirates always have? Yep, a wooden leg! It’s going to be hard for him to go away with just ONE regular old leg! Beavers love to eat wood! Look at the picture! I was told that piece of wood used to belong to a pirate. Not anymore!

It’s pretty ridiculous, now that you’ve seen the evidence, why more people don’t own pet beavers. They serve many uses, and, in the end, aren’t that difficult to maintain. A grooming once a year, and a teeth whitening once every 6 months, and after that, they’re basically free. It’s true, I will never find another animal like my dog Toby, but I can find plenty of animals that would give him a run for his money. I always think that you should do stuff that makes you happy in life. Finding that special pet can make all the difference, but there is a 99% chance that you pet is going to die before you do, so I’d create a list of pets that can “fill in” for your pet once it climbs that big ladder in the sky. It’ll make the transition a lot less difficult, and who knows, maybe you won’t like the pet that’s next on the list and you could search on the internet for the perfect recipe for grilled pangolin or BBQ Jerboa ribs…

Free-T-Bone-Thursday
Thought up: 2.6.04 – 8:01am
Written: 2.7.04 - 4:29 pm
#28

So yesterday on my drive to work, I passed the college by my house and saw a young man of of larger stature cruising by my car at a not-too-hurried pace. Anyway, this larger-than-average-mammal was wearing a pair of sweat pants with a word on the back of the pants. You know the kind, the ones that the girls get that say “defense” or “flirt” or something on the back. Yea, those are the ones, but on this guy they really didn’t look like they were meant for him.

Now, I believe the word on the back was supposed to read “Tigers.” I wasn’t 100% sure on this, but it looked like it when his hams were sliding back and forth you could kinda see the other letters in there. He stopped after he’d crossed the street at the next stop light, waiting his turn to cross, and in standing there, all I could see were the letters “TS.” I don’t know how or why he might have bought these pants. Perhaps he stole them from his girlfriend or something because they looked comfortable.

“Dear God, save us from this terror!”

I’m sure that his girlfriend is NOT going to want those back after his butt cheeks have been using them as a washrag all day! I recommend burning them, or at least washing them with 100% bleach 15 or 16 times. It’s only for safety’s sake. Hopefully sometime in the near future our President will realize this crime to humanity of wearing these pants by larger men. He might pass some sort of bill outlawing this indecent exposure. While he’s at it, make every other Thursday Free-T-Bone-Thursday, and every store in town has to give them away. Until then I suppose, we’ll just have to watch grown men wear women’s clothing and pay for our dead cattle with good ol’ American counterfeit money…

How to Hate Email Forwards More
Thought up: 1.19.04 – 8:19am
Written: 1.19.04 - 3:19 pm
#27

The internet has come a long way since Al Gore invented it those short few years back. Just think, if his brain hadn’t invented this idea, you’d not have gotten many of the lovely email chain letters that litter your mailbox each morning. These things drive EVERYONE crazy, but there are one or two people in every friend circle that are afraid to have “7 weeks of bad luck.” Oh no! I don’t want that! I better send this stupid email from Jimmy Sluggameinthanuts (who, coincidentally has a terrible nose disease that prevents him from tasting the crack his mom fed him when he was only 3) to everyone I know!

—–Original Message—–

From: Sluggameinthanuts, Jimmy

Sent: Wednesday, January 21, 2004 2:38 PM

To: Andy

Subject: FWD: Forward: FWD (FWD) SUPER IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ…

Hello everyone! My name is Jimmy Sluggameinthanuts. I have a terrible disease known as noseamblibrainvacany, most of you probably haven’t ever heard of it. It’s a horrible thing that makes me forget stuff a lot - I don’t remember what my mother even looks like anymore! Not only that, but I also suck at kickball at school, and my teacher always gets mad at me for playing with my dingy in class. It’s very embarrassing. I’m assuming it’s because of the horrid conditions of the village I live in. I’ve been living in this small village in a remote area of the world called Los Angeles.

I know, you’ve probably never heard of it, but that’s why I need your help. With my disease, I haven’t been able to walk to the store for my medication, and I fear I have another strange disease that will require me to send out another one of these annoying emails that nobody REALLY cares about in another week or 2. Anyway, without this medication, my mother will probably have to give up her 15th born son to be able to pay for this horrid surgery where my eyes will have to be poked out to make room for the alien lunch basket they plan on sticking in my head instead. I know it’s not much, but all I need is a few cents from each of you to get this underway.

I know times may be tough for you, but where I come from, we don’t have running water, television or hookers. I forgot to tell you also that I’m only 7 years old. About the running water, I was just kidding about that. We really do have running water, but it’s only good when my father comes home late from the city and “fills up” the water jug. But that also is another problem that Mr. Bill Gates said he’d help with. All you have to do is send this to everyone you know and CC Bill Gates on each one, and he will donate .0084 cents for each person that you send this to for my health! So please, if you don’t I will surely die, and God will likely hate you forever for not being nice to me!

If you’re wondering how I have an email address, you can stop wondering now. My life is so bad that I have to sell 3 fingers to a monkey that uses Morse code to send this letter to another impoverished 3 year-old in Tanzania that gets whipped when he doesn’t spell words correctly! (To send him money, Bill Gates has also set up another fund where if you pray to God 50 times and then jump up and down 2389 times with your eyes closed and then spit on the sidewalk and stick 14 bamboo sticks in your butt, he’ll give a rat’s-ass to the charity of your choice!) I don’t have much time left, so I’m also going to help you out by having you be really lucky today! Scroll down!

>

>>

>>>

>>>>

>>>>>

>>>>>>
>>>>>>> Are you ready yet! Keep your fingers crossed! Your wish is about to come true!

>

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>>>

>>>>

>>>>>

>>>>>>
>>>>>>> I’m so excited! This is amazingly cool and awesome! Keep scrolling and wasting your day!

>

>>

>>>

>>>>

>>>>>

>>>>>>
>>>>>>> Oh boy! Here we come; we’re almost there! If you believe in God, and really think that what goes around comes around, you’ll find it in your heart to believe like those stupid Care-Bears did. Your wish is about to happen!

>

>>

>>>

>>>>

>>>>>

>>>>>>
>>>>>>> Are you ready to rip your ears off yet because this sucks so bad? Do you want to kill the person that sent this to you yet?

>

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>>>>

>>>>>

>>>>>>
>>>>>>>Hooray! Your wish will now come true… …UNLESS you don’t pass this on to eleventy-billion people!

If you send this to only 1 person then you’ll have bad luck for 5 days and 13 hours!

If you send this to 2-4 people, you’ll have mediocre luck, but one of those days you may lose a finger or get your face bitten by a rabid cat.

If you send this to 5-9 people, you’ll likely get the HIV, but on a good note, you’ll be blessed by 15,000 dancing fairies and get to put some Gold Bond on your privates.

If you send this to 9-14 people, you’ll have super good luck until March 22, when your face will get scratched off by a grizzly, but you’ll at least have good luck until then!

If you send this to a mere 15-33 people you’ll go to heaven and get 44 naked virgins to help you clean the stubs you now have from getting your arms and legs ripped off by an angry gorilla because you didn’t forward this on to more than 33 people!

If you send this on to 33-148 people, you’ll likely just develop some sort of cold or allergy to your favorite food, which will result in death, or at very least a nasty case of scurvy, much like pirate scurvy.

If you send this on to 148-3983 people, you will save the lives of 44 starving children in Africa, but kill 4 dogs in your neighborhood and lose sight in one eye!

If you send this to more than 3983 people, you will have really good luck, and go to heaven, and win the lottery!

I know from personal experience of a lady that sent this email forward on to only 7 people, and the next day she got hit by a bus while driving her kids to school! And the bus driver got the exact same email that day and sent it on to everyone he knew, which was only 158 people, and found out that he saved a bunch of lives, but that the lady’s name was Doglie Doggernaught, and he had no idea what would happen, and then a kid dropped a spoon and a ninja killed the whole town! So beware of what you do with this email! You had better forward it on! Even if you don’t know very many people, you can still copy it by hand and drop it in some mailboxes around your neighborhood, and if people give you a hard time about it, just remember to give them one because I’m sure that they don’t know 3984 people and odds are in your favor that they’ll have their eyes pecked out by weeks-end!

If you believe in any of the following then you’ll forward this email on because not only will I benefit from it, but did you hear about how Microsoft had an error in their billing system and every time you send on this email you’ll get a check for $445.28 for everyone you send it to! I promise! I heard about a lady that didn’t think this was true, and then one day, after she got done taking a crap, she went to the mailbox and found a check for $7,893,838,494.29 because she forwarded this on, and didn’t even have to pay taxes on it, AND she decided to give most of it to charity to help the blind and she will for sure go to heaven and have good luck for like several hundred years at least!

If you believe in:

1. God
2. Allah
3. Zeus
4. Shiva
5. Rick Moranis
6. Santa and/or Easter Bunny
7. Anything

Then you had better forward this, because they would, and they have good luck all the time.

So, in closing, I just wanted to say that I am going to have fingers no more, with all the Morse code and crap from this monkey. So please, if you like people or food or breathing please help me out, and forward this on!

Love,

Jimmy Sluggameinthanuts

How To Look Like An Ass
Thought up: 12.9.03 – 9:17am
Written: 12.9.03 - 9:19 am
#26

I had maybe stayed out a bit too late last night doing things I probably shouldn’t have been on a weekday, but it was fun. I went to bed about 6 a.m. to take a quick nap before heading off to the training class I had enrolled in. I was doing the head-bobs for about the first hour of class, and sucked back 5 or 6 coffees only to be teased by the old lady sitting next to me because I “reeked of alcohol.”
“No problem, I’ll just breathe the other way lady. Who are you anyway, the Anti-Fun Police? I know when you were my age back in 1910, you probably did this stuff too!”
She backed off. I dosed off to be woken up by the instructor slamming a router on my desk and questioning what it was.
“Oh, um, that’s a router,” I said with a hint of slobber slip-slidin’ from the corner of my mouth.
“It appears as though we need to have our break now, as I’m putting people to sleep! 15 minutes, be back in your seats awake and ready to learn!”
I slithered out of my desk, and out the door to the restroom. Now keep in mind, what I’m about to tell you happened all in a matter of about 6 seconds, but just the goings-on in my head take up the majority of it all…
I walked into the bathroom ready to do my business, and turned to the one urinal in the bathroom, walking past the one handicap accessible stall, and the non-handicap accessible stall, to find this guy in wheelchair scooted up to the stand-up urinal! No, he wasn’t standing, he was just sitting there, and I “assume” he was just sitting back and watching it fly, or else he was a real lady-pleaser before he got into his chair (wink wink). I was a bit curious, but that’s all I let it get to. I didn’t want to look like a pervert by walking up and taking a gander at what caliber gun he was slinging. So I reckoned I’d hit another one, confused, but not deterred. So I moseyed into the regular stall to take care of the matter at hand. I thought to myself,
Me: “Self, the regular stall is way too close to the other guy peeing right next to me, and when he drives away, he will, odds are, run over my feet. I don’t want that. We’d both be embarrassed then. On top of that, I think I should use the handicap stall because I also don’t want him to think that he was putting me out because he took up the single urinal in the place. I wanted to be democratic about the situation. He uses that one, I use his; we’ll both be happy. So, clearly, the best idea would be to use the handicap stall. So I open back up the door, and move into the handicap stall. Once I got in, I gave it a quick thought, because I had to go, to leave the door ajar to the stall though so people wouldn’t come in and see me with the door closed taking a number 2, and then look over and see the handicap guy using the urinal and get mad at me. So leaving the door open wide enough to see that I was just peeing, on with the show.
So about 1.5 seconds into the show, I realize,
Me: “People are STILL gonna think that I took this guy’s stall because I’m in here now, it may just be peeing, but I’m STILL doing it! I better switch stalls!”
So I stopped with the deed, pinched it off, (yes, I can stop mid-stream) and slowly backed up, unit in hand, and started moving to the other stall. While my little fiasco is going on, moving and all, the guy in the wheelchair is done with his business, and backing the chair up to get to the sink totally nixing my efforts and what they stood for! The wheelchair guy’s head is about 5 inches from my “unit” and I’m trying to get into the other stall before we have a most awkward bump, when some dude walks in!

“Dear God, strike me down with lightning now, please. It would be much easier than trying to explain why my penis is 3 inches from a guys head in the men’s restroom.”
How uncomfortable is this now! I can just imagine what’s going through this other guy’s head.

Other Guy: “Oh great, we have some sort of wise-ass here that really hates people in wheel chairs planning to take a leak on him! Good thing I came in to stop this from happening! Should I jump this guy to stop him from snipering this old guy in the wheelchair? Better yet, I should turn his ass in! Kids these days are so unruly! I should kick him in the junk!”
Before the guy is able to kick me in the junk, ANOTHER dude walks in and sees me standing there with my little earthworm in hand.
Me: “Hello God, LIGHTNING ANYTIME NOW!”
Lovely I think, simply lovely. So I do what any self-respecting man would do. I nonchalantly put my little buddy back in my pants, and act as if I was COMING OUT of the stall and just leaving! However, every guy knows, if you’re midstream and pinch it off with the pointer-finger and thumb, when you let go, you’re gonna spill a bit. A little streak ensued down my pant leg (insert peanut gallery sneers here). But I figured it was better than whatever the guys that just came in must have been thinking. At least this way I wouldn’t look like a sick pervert, and perhaps I could even get some sympathy for being a bed-wetter…

Cell Phone Shot-put – Latest Olympic Craze
Thought up: 8.9.03 – 3:17am
Written: 11.20.03 - 1:19 pm
#25

Growing up, I was extremely envious of all my friends that had fancy answering machines in their houses. These were usually the kids that had the first Nintendo on the block, the first 10-speed bike, and at least 18 or 20 Michael Jordan rookie cards; funny how that worked. Of course they’d always check the machine when we got to their house. It was always a message for their parents. Still, it was certainly a neat machine to show off to your friends, before going and watching Super Mario run around on a big screen TV! We were lucky to get any messages at all in my house, even the written ones that other people had taken down.

We couldn’t afford an answering machine, and what more, we didn’t need one! We made due with our rotary phone and chalkboard. Granted, the answering machine had been around for many years, but it wouldn’t be till the late 90’s for one would find its way into our house. As telephone technology got more advanced, so did the answering machines. Before you knew it, there wasn’t even a need to purchase the machine itself; the telephone had the machine built right into it. And once that happened, there was no longer a need to have a machine anymore. We just jumped right to having a machine do the work of the machine by recording the messages on some OTHER machine to transfer them to us by voicemail at a later date! With all this technology, one thing has stayed the same: stupid answering machine messages -

1. This is Jim and Nancy! We’re not here, but our answering machine is! BEEP!
2. The answering machine is out sick, this is the refrigerator, I can’t record, but I can use one of these little stick-it notes and paste it on myself. BEEP!
3. None of us are home right now. If you’d like to leave a message for Frank, press 1 now. Jessica, press 2. Hank press 3. (And obviously NONE of these actually work!) BEEP!
4. If this is the police department, it wasn’t me. If this is a creditor, the checks in the mail. If this is Betty, she didn’t mean anything to me. If this is Jessie, Betty is a liar and means nothing to me. If this is my mom, don’t worry, Jessie and Betty are my pet iguanas. If this is a telemarketer I don’t want any, but I’m positive my mother-in-law does-443-4894, anyone still listening, leave me a message. BEEP!

And then there’re the ones that have the different pitches of beeping going on after the message has been said to leave a message, and you have to pull your face away from the phone for like 15 seconds until the phone is done with it’s beeping (I think I’d rather have Edward Scissorhands scrape his fingers across a chalkboard for 3 ½ days constantly than listen to another answering machine beep like this). But the good part of this all is that the answering machine is reaching its final stop. More and more people are just switching to cell phones and totally bagging their annoying home telephone line and ditching their horrid answering machine woes.

Recently, I just moved into a new house and we have no need to set up a telephone line in our house. My two roommates each have cell phones also, and we have high-speed Internet, putting our telephone line out on the streets looking for a new job. I think that it’s really convenient how easy it is to contact someone now anytime. Not only does it seem like EVERYONE has a cell phone now, but if they can’t be talked to on the phone, then a quick text message will get the word to them if they’re busy. It’s so streamlined and efficient that I’d assume sometime in the next 20 years, everything we own is going to be wireless! But again, with technology comes new concerns and new issues with the system.

here are a few friends in my phonebook that are getting harder and harder to call. Not for the fact that I’m angry at them, but for the fact that I know that their telephone is off, and the voicemail is going to come on saying, “This is Ezekiel, I’m not able to come to the phone right now, please leave a message.”
Now there is ABSOLUTELY nothing wrong with this message. It’s quick and to the point, and everyone can do their business and be done, but the downside is AFTER the message. Some annoying lady voice comes on and tells me,
“If you’d like to leave your callback number, press 1…” Do you even realize what you’re saying lady? EVERY phone in this day and age has a memory log of the last eleventy billion calls! There is NO way that this person is going to want my callback number, and if he/she does, I’m 100% capable of leaving it in the message I’m about to leave if you’ll ever shut up!
“If you’d like to leave a time stamp, press 2. “ I don’t even know what a time stamp is, let alone the reason that I’d want to leave one. I’m assuming that it has something to do with telling my friend what time I called. If I, again, couldn’t TELL my friend this in the message, or I was somehow inept at clock reading, or recently got into a horrible accident that made me lose my eyes or something, THEN maybe this feature would be of some small relevance.
“If you’d like to send your message with ‘URGENT’ delivery, press 3.” As if this message would get there any faster! I can just imagine pressing 3 here, and IMMEDIATELY storm troopers come blasting out of the sky around wherever Ezekiel is at the moment, and hand him a phone with the voicemail already started. Or maybe there is a little knife in his phone that will come out and stab him if someone needs this message to him urgently.
“To repeat these options, please press #.” Why in God’s green earth am I going to EVER need to hear those messages ONCE, let alone ANOTHER time! This is just blowing my mind.
At this point I’m just about ready to hang up the phone, and say screw it, but the lady has stopped talking, and I’m getting all giddy about finally leaving the message to say, “Call me back.” But no, who am I kidding? On the phone again comes the lady:
“ I’m sorry. I did not recognize that command, please enter it again.”
“LADY! I DIDN’T ENTER ANY COMMANDS! I DIDN’T PUSH ANYTHING! I’M JUST SITTING HERE! DID I BREATHE WRONG OR SOMETHING? I JUST WANT TO LEAVE MY FRIEND A MESSAGE TO CALL ME BACK! IS THAT NOT THE SERVICE YOU’RE PROVIDING HERE?”
“ I’m sorry. I did not recognize that command, please enter it again.”
Dear God,
This voicemail lady is about to drive me insane, and all I really want to do is leave my friend a message to call me. Is there anything you could do to help me out? Perhaps you could strike her with lightning, or something of a similar fate? If so, I’d REALLY appreciate it.
Thanks,
Me
After this I hope and I pray that I’ll hear her come back on the line,
“I’m sorry. I did not recogni—(insert lightning noise here) AH! MY HAIR IS ON FIRE! LEAVE A MESSAGE, QUICK! BEEP!
“Yea, Ezekiel. Gimme a ring back. It’s about 4:15pm. P.S. Sorry about your voicemail lady, I’m sure she was real nice.”
Not likely to happen, but it’s a dream of mine. However, instead of this heavenly trance I’ve put us in, we’re back to the same old thing,
“ I’m sorry. I did not recognize that command, please enter it again.”
I found though, that if you wait for 15 or 20 seconds with your breath held and your left eye closed halfway, she’ll come back on and say,
“Please record your message at the tone, when you’re finished, hang up, or stay on the line for further instructions.” BEEP!
At this point I’m getting all keyed up ready to dump my message to my good buddy. I untwist my arms and let my breath out. I get ready to talk, but I realize that I’m too light-headed to say anything! I start into a quick recap of what has been happening this past 3 minutes and 14 seconds, but come up blank. I forget whom I’m talking to and why. Before I know it, I hear the evil mystery computer lady come back on,
“If you’re satisfied with your message, press 1. If you’d like to replay your message, press 2. If you’d like to erase your message and re-record, press 3. If you’re finished, press 4. Press # to repeat this message.”
At this point I’ve just about had enough of these hoops she’s making me jump through, and come to think of it, I’ve had enough of Ezekiel and his worthless phone service! I hang up the phone and slam it on the floor, crying and sobbing, wishing that I could have done something to make that voicemail lady see things a little differently. I’d like to take her out to drinks sometime and make her see things in a different light, the right light. But odds are she’s been asked out too many times and dumped the next day. I’d imagine that’s what’s made her into the man-hater that she’s become. Oh well.
Clearly the future brings new inventions and ideas to the table, and with each will come new problems and annoyances; that’s part of progress. But I don’t think that I’m the only one out there that finds this aggravating and in need of some deeper research. Perhaps someone could make a lot of money in the cell phone industry by opening a department at each corporation that regulates the amount of time Voicemail Lady can talk. Until that time, just remember that you don’t need to keep those friends that use her service. I’m sure there are plenty of nice people out there that you can make friends with that don’t support terrorism like I’m sure Voicemail Lady does…

The Golden Years
Thought up: 10.2.03 – 5:00pm
Written: 10.2.03 - 5:01 pm
#22

When people say that they’re the happiest they’ve ever been, are they really being serious about it? Or is it something deeper in their psyche that’s telling them to “think” they are happier than ever. I think that it’s very possible that people aren’t truly happy with where they are in life, but they convince themselves that they are. I’m sure this isn’t what people want to hear, but I think it’s the truth.

For example, when people are in their sixties and seventies, they claim this time in their lives to be “The Golden Years!” What does that mean? Gold as in, super old, bones breaking down, body parts sagging a little more? Gravity is NOT your friend! It won’t make you look or feel any better at ANY time in your life! There’s a 97% chance that your teeth aren’t even your own. Odds are, they’re made out of some synthetic plastic or wood like ol’ George Washington! I’ve seen those people rolling around in the walkers and whatnot time and time again. The walker is not golden by any means, but it’s apparent that the person is having fun. I don’t see the correlation here.

I’ve been to my grandparents house a time or two, and don’t get me wrong, I love both sets a TON, but I’m sorry, they just don’t seem to have fun that often. I walk in to see Grampa taking his nap on the chair, asleep with the boxing match on. Meanwhile, Gramma is either reading a book, telling Grampa to stop snoring, or not there at all and at the bowling alley. Yes, bowling is a lovely time, but honestly. You could do that stuff when you’re 24 or 25 and not have to worry about the bowling ball ripping your arm off your shoulder or your back giving out when you bend over to toss the ball! I’ll roll in there and start up a conversation with Gramps, and it ALWAYS starts, and ends, the same way:

Gramps: “Oh, hi Andy! I didn’t even hear you come in! You woke me up!”

Andy: “Yea, Gramps, actually I’ve been watching this movie for about an hour and 1/2 … Could you keep it down, it’s almost done!”

Gramps: “Oh yea, don’t worry ab…. Zzz… z.z..z…”

—30 minutes later—

Gramps: “Oh, hi Andy! I didn’t even hear you come in! You woke me up! How have you been doing!”

Andy: “Oh, I’ve been alright!”

Gramps: “Good, good! How’s work?”

Andy: “It’s going alright, they pay me every two weeks whether I want it or not still!”

Gramps: “Well that’s good, that’s really good! I remember when… [Insert old comment here that is clearly MUCH tougher than whatever you’re currently doing.]

Andy: “Yea, that’s true Grampa, but that’s the way it goes… What have you been up to?”

Gramps: “Oh, not much, went to the cabin this past weekend. The creek is getting high again! But other than that, I’m just sitting around, waitin’ my turn.

Andy: “Lovely, lovely.”

Gramps: “Are you hungry? Have you eaten anything today? I think we have some leftover SPAM sandwiches in the fridge!”

Andy: “I’d love one!”

Gramps: “Zzzzzzzzzzzz.”

So basically, it’s not stunning conversation, but I love the man to death. He’s always been there for me. Maybe, just maybe the “Golden Years” really are meant for the other people that are hanging around. It’s golden to everyone else because they’re realizing that it won’t be super fun to get older. Perhaps being the older generation, they just chose the color gold to proclaim their lifestyle, because it was “hip” at the time because the record company hadn’t invented platinum yet. Oh, if old people knew about platinum, and other things more lucrative than gold such as:

1. Platinum (clearly)

2. Diamonds

3. Yahoo Stock in the early 90’s

4. Baseball cards

5. Beanie Babies

6. Alex Rodriguez married to Kevin Garnett

I can just picture an older couple sitting on a boat somewhere in the South Pacific, living out their traveling dreams of long ago, sitting back, and really living the life, spending their “Alex Rodriguez married to Kevin Garnett Years” together. Now THAT’S a fine lifestyle. Scratch the “Golden Years.”

I’m just sure that there are far better years in your life than the late 50’s and 60’s. I have really enjoyed my time thus far since graduating college a few years back. I’m very comfortable, have a good job, a nice place to live, good car, good health, and good friends. That, right there, one-ups the “Golden Years” people by one. Good health.

When you’re in college, hell, those years should have a name too. You learn a lot of neat things there, granted, an entire new story, but they’ve got to be able to get some credit in there. Perhaps they could be dubbed the “Silver Bullet Years.” For others in the institution of “higher” learning, it could be called the “Green Years.” While some chose the path of studying and furthering their scholastic education, the “Taped-Coke-Bottle-Glasses Years.” Many of my good friends come from that spectrum, lovely folks.

This ideology can further be dumped into the area of the work (huge tangent ahead, drive carefully). Many people are under the impression that they like their jobs. This is clearly not true. They stay at their jobs because they need the money to pay the mortgage, and to feed the kids, and to pay off the blackmailers (what, you don’t?). They say that they are perfectly comfortable with what they’re doing just to spare themselves the embarrassment of having to admit that they can’t find another job, and are not motivated enough to try!

It’s 100% a psyche thing, just like being old I think. If you admit to yourself that you had way more fun when you were in college, single, and had 1,000 friends around at all times, then it’s pretty pointless living your life anymore. But if you refer to your current lifestyle as the “Golden Years” then people can’t judge you. The younger generation can’t criticize you, because you’ve always got the comeback of, “wait till you get to be my age.” I’m still fairly young, and I’ve come to the conclusion that we’ve got it good now! I’d like to find myself a way to get into an old person’s head for a day or 2, just to check it out.

I’m sure they have some top-secret pact with other old people that they can’t divulge the secrets of oldness to the younger generation, or else it wouldn’t make them want to live anymore and pay for their social security! I’m on to you geriatrics! But hell, I guess there’s really nothing to worry about, because deep down, none of us really want to die. We want to grow old like our elders, and if we want to keep the checks coming each month, we have to keep the secret. Did I just figure this out on my own, and everyone else has just been keeping it from me this long?!? Ah well, either way, the secret has been spilled…

Third World Prosperity… …Or So
Thought up: 11.8.03 – 10:04pm
Written: 11.11.03 - 5:47 pm
#24
This weekend I sat out on my front porch talking to one of my good friends about how we have it so good in this life. We’ve always got food on our tables, shelter from the elements, and taxes that are so fun to pay. There are a lot of people in this world that don’t have these amazing luxuries. There are people that can’t get a decent meal, and can’t have a roof overhead made from anything more than some bushes and leaves, and that’s not fair. I guess that’s why they have so many agencies that feed the hungry and the week in different areas of the world. I think these agencies are doing a very nice thing for people. It would be nice to see some of it actually pay off though.

I always see the downside to what has happened by nobody donating money, but clearly SOMEONE has to be giving money to these organizations, or else they’re not doing the job that they’re advertising! I don’t know how many years I’ve watched these ads on television, but NONE of them have ever shown me what happens when you DO actually donate to a kiddo. I mean, granted, you’re only giving up like $0.72 per day, but that will obviously help out the child to get nourishment. How about the celebrities of the world get together a group and hit the road collecting $ to save the children. I know there’re a lot of sick kids in the world, but there are also a lot of wealthy celebrities, and what better way to promote oneself than by helping children!

I’m gonna step out on my proverbial limb here and say that if everyone in the celebrity world, making a respectable amount of money ($100,000.00 or more) would give up 72 cents per day to help people around the world, we would all sleep a little better! They could even take it out per paycheck, much like the taxes and medical, and retirement and alimony, and student loans, and more taxes that come out of my check each month before I can even deposit the $24.63!

I know, I don’t make nearly the amount that some big name celebrities make, but I do alright I think. I’m pretty sure that with the $24.63 per month I could pay $21.60 ($0.72/day * 30 days in a month = $21.60) more to feed a lil’ guy that has nothing. I really enjoy top ramen, and I think I could live off it for a while. But this is where the downside comes in. If you START to donate to this because, you can’t quit. It’d be like just dumping a kid on the side of the road after a trip to the ice cream parlor and telling him to go find a new home. He’d have to go out on the market again searching for a new place to live. I can imagine my lil’ guy hanging out on some side street in a 3rd world country with a sandwich sign promoting that he’s back on the market for a donor. That’s just not very cool.

I’m fairly certain that it’d be better for both of us for me to find a better job. If I had a better job, I could help him out with that $21.60 without worries, and I could stop eating Top Ramen every day (Top Ramen in your body for 30 straight days has been proved to cause AIDS, so beware)! So, in all actuality, HE’D be the one helping ME out! So I think a BETTER way to attack this would be to to have a place in these 3rd world countries where kids could come to, (online, in books, whatever) where they could evaluate prospective sponsors. This would alleviate a lot of the hassle that goes into finding a child in an area that you want. The child would be the one selecting YOU! This way, I guarantee every child on earth would have a sponsor, and everyone would be $21.60 poorer, but it’s for a good because!

To make the process even more streamlined, the bill could come in the mail each month with the return address of the city sewage system or something. That way people would HAVE to pay it, because who wants their sewers backed up? Nope, not me! Kids would be happy, healthy, and warm all around the world, and sponsors would be glad to know that they’re really doing a worthwhile thing!

I’m sure, however, that there would be drawbacks. I would probably start to get really attached to my newly adopted child and want him to come to live with me in America once he was done sponsoring me, and forcing me into getting a better job, which would, in turn, get me a bigger house in which my buddy could come and live. Granted, once he came over to live with me, he’d have to get a job, but that’d be no problem since I had already paid for his schooling. But I assume this is the point where his family would get angry with me for taking their son away from them. They’d know that I was only trying to help, but would still want to be with their child. I’d receive several weeks, and possibly months of hate mail before they realized that it might be a fun adventure for the lil’ fella to come and live with me. He’d get a job at my firm, and we’d become successful business partners. I’d show him around the city, introduce him to all of my friends, and show him how to untwist Oreos.

Now, I’m not sure how long he’ll live with me. I imagine for the first few years he’s here, at least. Who knows, maybe I’d even get married and he’d still be hanging out at my house, but that’s no big deal. The Missus and I wouldn’t care, “he’s family.” I’d say, and that’d be that. Until I’m sure he’d want to bring his parents over to the house to live because they lived in a bad part of the world, and I’m not one to go against family, so I’d agree with him, and his entire family would come to live in the house.

I’m certain that I could have a really good time with them all. We have a lot of picnics and barbeques and whatnot. We’d play lawn darts, croquet, and Frisbee a lot. However, as wives often times are, she’d get fed up with my friends, and eventually give me the ultimatum: they go or I go! I assume I’d miss her a lot, but that’s the way it goes. I mean, it’s not like she’s blood or something like my son - and his mother and father and brothers and sisters from some far off foreign land!

I can’t say that I can find a downside to this except for the fact that I’ve got a fairly soft heart. I’d probably start whining a lot to my new family, and they’d eventually get sick of hearing me sob like a helpless boob. I’d likely call in sick to work one too many times and the boss man would tell me to take a hike. I’d be out of a job, a wife, and my new son would have to take care of me for a while, as I’d likely be on a drunken binge.

He’d send me to alcohol counseling, and I’d run off because I couldn’t cut it there, and I’d find myself running around the nation working odd jobs to pay for my drinking, writing back to my boy and his family in my house from time to time, and city to city until eventually I’d find myself in Central America broke as a joke. I’d wake up one day, and look at the beard on my face, the holes in my shoes, and the dirt on my clothes and think how I got where I was. It would all be that way because I was being nice to someone; someone in a third-world country that didn’t have anything to eat or anywhere to sleep, much like myself, who would, in turn, get on the same plan and find myself a sponsor.

Boy would that sponsor be surprised when he’d find out that I wasn’t really a starving 9 year old in Nicaragua! But I wouldn’t tell him until he bought me a plane ticket back to America (I know, it’d take a year or 2, but we’re fast-forwarding) and then when he’d come to pick me up from the airport, to avoid embarrassment, I’d dress up like a cow and leisurely walk out of the airport… “Moo,” I’d say a time or 2 to avoid uncloaking…

The Dilapidation Of Human Evolution
Thought up: 8.13.03 – 7:24pm
Written: 8.14.03 – 1:27pm
#16

Human evolution must have been filled with lots and lots of trial-by-error. Everything couldn’t have come so easy for everyone. We take the most common of things for granted, when, in actuality, it took someone like 3 years to learn how to pick their nose. Hell, I can bust out 15 or 20 pickings a day now! My grandfather told me back when I was young, that people didn’t even know how or where to pee for 3,000 years. They’d just “ride the yellow slip ‘n slide” down their legs for God’s sake. I couldn’t believe the man; I thought he must have gone mad!

Me: “What about toilets Grampa?”
Gramps: “Ah hell, they didn’t have toilets, they just went wherever they were, with no care for anyone around them! Dirty varmints!
Me: “What about the port-o-potties though? Didn’t anyone use those?
Gramps: “HELL NO BOY! Where’s your head! They didn’t even have clothes then! Let alone port-o-potties!

I concluded that I’d just leave it at that because obviously grampa had too much of the funny soda that night; for undoubtedly people got super embarrassed to be walking around naked; let alone pissing on themselves. But now that I’ve gotten a bit older, it makes a bit more sense, and that maybe Grampa WAS all there. We just take that stuff for granted, when in reality, it took a lot of people a ton of time to figure stuff out.
Nowadays, we look at something like a television and figure that someone whipped that baby right up in a factory using the latest high-tech computer driven machines and state-of-the-art software. We don’t even care to think about how long something like that took. Who the hell invented “factories” in the first place? Let alone televisions to be built in them. It’s funny to think that kids these days can’t ponder being without television. I’m really close to being in that generation, which is nice because I can’t imagine the fun they must have had in the Caveman Era…

Thorg: “Grog, what we do today for fun?”
Grog: “Unga bunga Thorg. Me think we play with rock again.”
Thorg: “We play with rock everyday Thorg, we should play with log instead.”
Grog: “SWEET! I forgot how fun log was!

Or even better yet when they’d be chasing women:

Grog: “Thorg, did you see the ass on that one!”
Thorg: “Oh yea Grog, it was super hot, so hairy and full of dirt, and since we haven’t invented toilet paper yet, a few other little treats!”
Grog: “I tell you what, if it wasn’t for the hair covering virtually every inch on her body, including her face, forehead, back and feet, I’d be all over that!”
Thorg: “Yea, me too! She for sure has the bushiest eyebrows of all the girls we know! You could damn-near twist that s*** up with some shoe polish and she could rock those suckers like Rollie Fingers’ mustache!”
Grog: “Rollie who?”
Thorg: “Nevermind, you’re too young to know him.”

Clearly the world was a different place. No cars, no cell phones, no computers… Hell, when I watch OLD movies like “Gladiator” they wore white cloth and just draped it around each other. I can picture some big tough gladiator walking in to the fabric store…

“Gee, that dress would look really nice on me! Do you have in it white?”
“Actually sir, that’s ALL we have it in. Haven’t you noticed? We all wear stupid dresses just swathed upon us. That’s because we live in the Bronze Age! What for another several centuries when we get to wear BIGGER dresses with Frou-frou bushy collars, knickerbockers, and white wigs! You think we look like idiots now! Just wait!
“Hmm, good point Julius, I think I’ll just take the stupid leaf head-band today is all, thanks.”

The aspect of “eating” still boggles my mind more than any other human learned skill. I mean, who in the hell came up with the idea to actually “eat” something? Whoever this fella was needs to be given more adulation and praise than Mickey Mantle or Bob Hope. Because now, it’s one of everyone’s favorite hobbies (some more so than others). He started something that would bring worlds together! I guess what puzzles me the most is how one day he noticed that his stomach hurt, and needed to eat something. I guess this is the same for all animals, but especially for humans.

Other animals eat a lot of crap like trees, bushes, vegetables and whatnot, which is clearly not good - however, that’s probably what he first munched on. It must have happened something like this… [Scoobey Doo music intro] …The entire planet gets toasted when the meteor shower hit, and the dinosaurs croaked but one guy got trapped in the ice and thawed out after 37 years in the ice. He rolls out after a looooooooooong sleep, and took a whiz, like men do after a good night of zzz’s, and starts walking around randomly. He has ABSOLUTELY no clue what he’s doing. But decides that his stomach hurts, what does he do? Obviously he decides to climb a tree and pick some bugs out of his hair! He has no good place to put these bugs except in his mouth.

I’ve seen caveman bugs before and most of them are roughly the size of a Cocoa Puff. They grew them big back then. And after a while, he got to realizing that by eating bugs out of his hair, he bacame less hungry. Until one day he ran out of bugs, and decided to try eating some shrubs and trees, and those lasted for a while until he noticed that he wanted a hamburger or at least some SPAM (because guys dig that stuff). Upon realizing that he has neither, he started trying things that might taste good. He must have gone through anything he could find like dirt, cheetos, and rocks and found nothing.

o people stayed on a diet of bugs and shrubs until probably around like 1955 when Ray Kroc opened the first McDonalds in Des Plaines, Illinois. It was all downhill from there. I won’t get into it, but do want to make it a point to ponder as to how people first started eating animals though. I assume is has something to do with the video games kids are playing these days. According to recent statistics I just made up, 98% of kids that play video games eat. And of that 98%, 13% of the kids will eat a hamburger and not even care that the first hamburger was eaten by a simple man – a man with a fetish for knives, cattle, barbeque sauce and grills.

I guess what it all boils down to is that we all look at eras in a different way. People learn things at different speeds, but for the most part look back and tease the last generation or two. I do it to my folks, they did it to their folks. I think it’s a general consensus that everyone before say, 2 or 3 generations ago are just completely clueless, and deserve to be teased. In actuality, if they weren’t such ninnies, then WE would be the ones making all the stupid mistakes. We’d be wearing hideous clothes, and trying to eat random stuff like Tupperware containers, air-fresheners, and bowling balls…