Posted in Humor, Meerkat Musings

The Case of the Bad Memory

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I had so many ideas for a post, and I kept telling myself ‘I’ll write it soon, I’ll start it today, I’ll get it done’. What happened? Did some super urgent secret mission take me away from my plans? Was I abducted by aliens? Did some fantastical amazing event lead my astray? Nope. None of the above. I forgot. I will therefore perform self-flagellation in the form of this post. It’s my way of apology to you, the Nudge Wink community.

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What was I saying? Oh yeah, Daleks! I recently posted about the appearance of a man taking his Dalek for a walk, and mentioned it was the fourth weirdest thing I’ve seen from the store window.

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See, I didn’t make that up! And yes, it’s the fourth weirdest thing. I have seen weirder – or scarier, depending on your perspective. Don’t worry though, we have the Doctor!

JodieWhittaker Dr Who

Take that you stupid Dalek!

What might be stranger than a man taking his Dalek for a walk down the high street? Well, for one, there’s Snake Man! Not sadly, a man whose half-man, half-snake, but rather a man who was carrying some form of snake on his shoulders as he walked down the street. Quite what compelled him to take a snake for a walk, we will never know.

There’s the Shouter – we watched him go back and forth, over and over again, whilst hurling abuse at the local pub across the road. Quite what the pub had done to him, I don’t know. He is in fact one of several shouters – ranging from the harmless, to the ones that might be genuinely dangerous, which leads me on to the weirdest/scariest thing I’ve witnessed outside the store window – the Knife Idiots.

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Yep, the other day a pair of… well, I can’t call them adults because their behaviour was anything but – a pair of creatures decided the sensible way to resolve their conflict was to stand outside the pub waving blades at each other whilst screaming obscenities. It lurched between being sadly amusing and downright terrifying – though the wave of the blades was half-hearted and it was all a display of pointless, desperate bravado. Hands up if you’re impressed by that…

The Dalek was smarter, and it was possibly an empty shell.

For the record, where I work is not actually a bad area, it just has miscreants, like anywhere would. It just seems that half of them enjoy displaying their strange or unruly behaviour outside my shop window.

 

Posted in 1 Point Perspective, Humor

Games Over

It can be a struggle being a curmudgeon, but sometimes they make it awfully easy for me.  Take for example the “news” story I recently read which implied that there was some consideration for making gaming an Olympic sport.  To clarify, the term “gaming” does not refer to the games which already award medals to the best players/teams in a given sport.  Sports such as handball, synchronized swimming and curling are already well established Olympic fare.

This is a humor blog, and as such, I have a moral obligation to make at least one reference to this boob. Video games are dangerous – people shouldn’t be allowed to wreak carnage on others simply by pushing buttons! (Image of actual Trump Tweet from the interwebs)

The gaming to which the article refers is the video form.  In fairness, I should disclose that the “article” to which I am referring is barely more than click bait in its depth and quality. I scanned through two or three paragraphs worth.  Someone from the gaming community was going to meet with someone from the Olympic community to talk about the possibility of gaming being recognized as an Olympic sport.  It’s possible that this whole subject has been inflated just to rile up old coots like me.

I see a Wheaties cover in this guy’s future! (Meme from IGN dot com – Original image from the geniuses at South Park))

As a kid, I looked up to my Olympic heroes.  American athletes went up against villains with consonant-laden names from places like the Soviet Union and East Germany. They played sports that most of us only saw once every four years. Those two countries don’t even exist anymore and one of our old Olympic idols has recently gotten breast implants, a reality show and changed his name to Caitlyn. Excuse me if I get a little pissy that the Olympics may soon be giving out medals for having the high score for Donkey Kong.

Most people agree that this thumb is proof of juicing by the Uzbekistan team. (Meme from wastedpotatoes dot com)

Proponents of video games will contend that world champions have incredibly fast reflexes and dexterity.  I don’t mean to brag, but I manage to guzzle 20 ounces of steaming coffee every morning, often while behind the wheel in New Jersey commuter traffic.  I seldom spill (much of) it on my shirt.  While I humbly admit that my reflexes and dexterity must be pretty damn good, I don’t need an award.  Going through my workday without a giant brown stain down the front of my shirt is satisfaction enough.

The possibilities raise more questions than answers:

  • Will there eventually come a day when actual Olympic sports are replaced by their virtual counterparts?
  • How many times have we heard commentators remark about changing conditions on a ski slope or had asterisks next to finishing times because it was wind aided?
  • When was the last time you heard someone complain about divots on Wii Golf?
  • Will the perfection of the digital arenas take the place of the faulty state of the real world?
  • What’s the point of these questions?
  • How long will it take before the Uzbekistan team gets exposed for using cheat codes during their historic bronze medal performance in the “Grand Theft Auto – Chump City” consolation match against a tough Netherlands squad?

Perhaps the day will even come when it’s a novelty for athletes to compete on actual grass in actual weather in actual sports.  Old farts like me will be long gone by then of course. I hope someone digs this gem out from the bowels of the internet and I get the credit I deserve for this spiffy bit of predicting.  No need for a parade or anything, though a posthumous medal would be nice.

 

 

Posted in Shouts from the Abyss

City on the Edge of Displeasure

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Statue named Portlandia looks down on this post.

Ah. The big city. There’s no place like it, amirite?!

I’m currently working on a theory that seeks to explain the vast breadth of experiences found in the big city right down to the smallest nooks and crannies. I think I’ve found a model that does just that.

We decided to leave our house. We piled into the car. Seven turns and six miles later we were at Powell’s Books. We left our car in a truly frightening multi-level parking garage and made our way inside. An elevator whisked us up to the third floor. I shuffled over to the farthest corner and stood in front of books about architecture. I pretended to be interested. Suddenly, invading my space, someone crowded in. Yes, I was attempting to physically exist in the sole location in the Cosmos where they wanted to be. I was bad.

Continue reading “City on the Edge of Displeasure”

Posted in Attitudes, Humor, Too Full To Write, Views

13 Reasons The New Female Doctor Who Will Be Awesome

Hello everyone, good evening.

For those of you who missed me last month…you are all very sweet 🙂

And for those of you who didn’t – go take a hike, you’re banned for life!

(Sure hope there is more of the former and less of the latter).

OK, so I decided to take a impromptu break last month…(excuse me for a moment while I go take another break to look up what impromptu means…Ah yes, good, splendid, that makes sense, even if my sentences are borderline incohesive nonsense).

Now then, where was I? Yes, I decided to take a brief sabbatical to recharge my creative batteries and as it so happens, something came up in the news this week that brought into perspective what I thought I should be focus on for this article.

We begin then with the number thirteen. Continue reading “13 Reasons The New Female Doctor Who Will Be Awesome”

Posted in Humor, Meerkat Musings

I am… Beaker?!

During the week I did that most lethal thing. I asked a question, about myself, on social media. To what end would I inflict such suffering upon myself?! The question was ‘what celebrity do I most resemble?’ My own dear wife put forward the comparison with Mr Bean, one former colleague suggested a very angry Basil Fawlty, and another colleague felt Beaker from The Muppets was my natural twin.

No, I am not inflicting you with pictures of myself and my celebs, so you will just have to imagine whom I most resemble (it’s Beaker).


Sadly, I am not as skilled at science as our flame-haired friend here. My powers extend to only mild explosions and the occasional power outage.

This all got me thinking – who else do I resemble?


Screech? I was frequently told by my classmates at school that I looked like him. Good thing, or bad thing?


Ok, this is wishful thinking.


I have more hair. In fact, too much hair. I hate my hair. It’s not even Beaker hair, it’s unkempt thornbush hair.

The overall point to this post, if there is one, is that we often seek to compare ourselves – or we get compared – to other people. Why? When did we forget to love who we are? I will never been Zak Efron, not even close, so why should I care? It’s taken me a long time, but these days I feel comfortable in my own skin. I no longer regard myself as an ugly ducking, even if I’m no swan. I am me, and I am happy.

That’s the key message folks. It might take time to grow into the person you want to be, but grow you shall. No one starts out as a mighty oak – we all start out as some crazy nut. In my case, I’ve grown into a nut tree, but that’s not the point. Eventually, you will learn to be you, in all your glorious uniqueness (is that a word?), and you should celebrate that! That’s why I will be the Beaker of light in the darkness. I’ve Bean Fawlty for too long.

 

Posted in 1 Point Perspective, Humor

What’s In A Name?

Not the actual cat. Image from the interwebs

Some folks in Iowa recently named a rescued kitten “Firecracker” after veterinarians determined that the feline’s facial injuries had likely been caused by some sort of fireworks. In the interest of blog humor, I won’t get on a soapbox and rail against the sadistic nature of the cretins who perpetrate such acts upon innocent, sweet animals (or even cats for that matter).

Instead, I’d like to question the wisdom of christening a cat with such an awful name.  If it was a feisty tabby with an explosive personality and the potential to tear digits to shreds, then a moniker like Firecracker might be an apt handle.  Naming this little guy after the explosive that blew his whiskers off seems a bit cruel.  On the plus side, since it’s a cat, the name doesn’t really matter as they only respond to the sound of electric can openers anyway.

Naming pets is kind of an egotistical act of futility.  In the wild, they manage just fine without any sort of name at all.  Thanks to us, African parrots are all called Polly, toucans are Sam, and orange cats are typically Morris. If that zoo had the foresight to not tag that gorilla a nice African sounding Harambe, 20-somethings would have far less to put on their ironic memes and T-shirts.  Bored frat boys would not likely popularize the battle cry of “Dicks out for that gorilla they killed in the zoo that time.”

Remember my last post? It sucked too! Image from keppcalm-o-matic dot co dot uk

It’s fun to go to the off-leash dog park and listen to frustrated owners calling out the poor choices in names of their disobedient dogs.  New dog owners often give their pups awful names, unaware of how often and loudly they’ll have to use it.

Cumberbatch! Come!….CUMBERBATCH!  Come on boy!”  That shit never gets old.  If my allergies weren’t so bad I’d go spend the morning at the off-leash cat park.

 

 

 

 

Posted in Floridaborne, Humor

Not so special report: Why I missed my deadline…again.

Well, it’s July 4th and once again I missed my NWR reporting deadline.

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Last Wednesday, I was busy moving into my new office.  

Yes, you read that right.

A real office with a window.

Think of offices as dominoes.  

One person retires permanently.  The only person who needs an office (me) doesn’t want that office.  What possible reason would I have for not wanting an office?

I found out months later that the office manager knows me so well she said, “We can’t put her in that office, she’ll freeze to death.”

And we all know that North Florida isn’t the land of the freeze and the home of the parade.  We’re the land of the free, the home of the brave, and we have a stand your ground law to prove it.

So I remained in the conference room in a corner with the office server to keep me company.  When you have tinnitus, the sounds of beeps and chirps are no worse than the sound of an air conditioner running.  And it’s a LOT warmer in there.

Did I mention that I loved being in the conference room and hadn’t asked to move?

 If you think of it in terms of office efficiency, no one can have a meeting in a conference room when it’s being used as an office.  It’s like trying to share secrets with your best friend while your mother is in the room. 

Next on the list of office dominoes:  Person loses office and ends up at the front desk.  

Why?  Because the phone system that was supposed to replace a receptionist only worked if the intent was to infuriate your customers to the point of road rage.   

There was an empty office near the entrance no one wanted, for a good reason. Another person is moved from her office into that office to serve as backup for front-desk duty  (since everyone who walked through the door and couldn’t find the receptionist looked there for help, anyway). 

That left one office open.   Since the newly vacated office was about 1 1/2 times the size of the Director’s office, and next to the Executive Director, I’d often wondered why she was still in a back office in the corner where the mailboxes had been set up.

Yes, the inter-office mailboxes have replaced the old water cooler.

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Fast forward to last week.  The Director enters her office and starts sorting through papers.  Then she says she’s decided to move into the office next to the Executive Director.  

I was joking when I said, “Good. Now I can have an office.”

She looks up at me (as if I were psychic) and says, “That’s the plan.”

And that’s when I found out it had been a plan all along to provide me with an office that wouldn’t turn me into a human-shaped ice cube.

After I tell you what happened next, you might wonder why anyone would think I deserved an office.

With help, I brought in my desk from the conference room and arranged the office to (my idea of) perfection.  I sat at my desk, ready to work, and an arctic blast hit me wham-bam-thanky-mam in the head.  

I looked up….and shuddered.

My ideal spot was directly under an A/C vent that was open at full capacity.

I wasn’t about to dress like this in my own office…

So I took a bunch of these…

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….secured them against my desk,  did this….

….had to use one of these to reach the ceiling and close the vents…

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…and I lived to tell about it.

To add to this magnificent feet, feat, I have permission to close the door and open my window so that the balmy 90F air can come flowing into the office.

Nothing in life is better than this kind of freedom.