Friday!

This is an adaptation of an email I send around to friends on Fridays. Why? No real reason, just started doing it and kept at it. Because I'm lame.

You know, 6 ounces of water doesn’t look like a whole lot when it’s in a cup, but all over your desk? Well, then, it’s plenty. I mean, sure, all my important business document-type papers needed a good moisturizing, but I could have been a little more efficient with the process rather than clumsily knocking over a Styrofoam cup filled with the first day’s glass of aqua. That was a mutilation of a sentence, but I’m not going back to edit – run with me folks. Anyway, according to “college laws” spilling water all over your desk and then wiping it up constitutes cleaning, so I am good to go with that for at least 6 months. (That’s another college law: you only need to clean every 6 months. Right, time it properly and it’s only once per year. I’m smelly.)

I’m melting. You melting? I am a typical whiny bastard, you know? When it’s 30 degrees in May, I’m complaining about that. Then a week later when it’s 95 with 115% humidity (this weather system is the Pete Rose of meteorology), I’m complaining about that too. But honestly, does anyone benefit from getting swamp ass by looking out the window? No, I didn’t think so. I am especially looking forward to the wedding I’m going to on Saturday. I once sweated through the back of a suit jacket forming a giant lower-back sweat stain, which was then held up (by and ex) for all the world to see. I think I can top that though. I am going to sweat through my tie! Sweating through my tie would probably get into the sweating man’s hall of fame. I’ve been inducted via one of those sham “lifetime achievement award” deals, but this would be legit. The last frontier would be sweating through my shoes. Hey, a guy can dream.

Fyi, new contractor nickname, Cups. He’s always over getting tea or something and asking me if I know where the cups are. And then the other day I saw him pilfering some cups from the floor below mine. Ah, Cups. When will you learn that mugs are like 87 cents?

Have a sweaty great weekend!

uh, hi

A woman in the office, whom I don't know (beyond having seen her around) has mistaken me for someone else. This morning I was walking by her and I did the good morning smile/nod (I need to be awake for 6 to 8 hours before I speak) she said good morning and then asked, "Are you still jogging?" "Uh. Sure. Every now and again."

Getting mistaken for a jogger is not a bad deal. I'll take that over, say, being mistaken for a jazzerciser.

overall a success (success part notwithstanding)

So, my ice hockey team finished 0-20-2. Now, this might lead you to believe we (and I specifically) suck. And you would not be wrong - especially about me. But, such as it is, it is now over.

The last game was amidst the most recreational sporting week I think I've ever had. I was like a white, talentless Bo Jackson. Ro knows losing. Starting with the previous Saturday (day-by-day) I had the following activities: roller hockey, ice hockey, roller hockey, basketball, ice hockey, soccer, off, ice hockey. That is a little much, even by my standards. And come about the 4th day in a row, the legs get a tad wobbly. And maybe you're not as aggressive as you were before due to suppressing the urge to vomit and desire to collapse. I ain't what I used to be, I guess.

In other all-about-me news, I ate 47 cookies from the community food cabinet. A co-worker's wife is all about the baking. He should weigh 400 pounds, but does not. Can you get sick of delicious, soft cookies? You wouldn't think it possible, but I suppose you can get sick of anything. I, for one, am not sick of them. Co-worker's wife, if you are ready this, fire up the oven and get baking.

filling

Today was the first day of spring. I don't care what all the "scientists" or "meteorologists" say. Today I woke up were it was a little warm, but still a chill in the air. And it had that spring smell. If you come from a place without seasons, you don't know the smell, but the best way to describe it is . . . hope. Spring smells like hope. It smells like renewal and starting over. And sometimes hobo vomit, just depending.

Well, in the tradition of this blog, I wrote that first graph on Wednesday or Thursday of last week. When you craft such finely . . . crafted crafts such as these, it sometimes takes a few days fermenting to get the words out. Or I'm just lazy. It's one or the other. But the point still stands. It's no jackets all around. And I won't go back to the jacket unless a door is frozen shut on the way to my car. If it is, I can then return home and wear a hoodie. These are the rules, people. Go forth and spread my gospel.

Donuts in the hizzouse today . . . hmmm, I went with the chocolate cake donut thinking it was the way to go. Because I wasn't sure if the chocolate icing topped, filled donut was an actual Boston Cream or a white-icing donut masquerading as a Boston Cream. These are, no doubt, serious issues. The donut was good, but I can't help but think I need to make a return trip and solve once and for all, the mystery of the unknown donut.

you know what dr johnson says, "winter, like fish, begins to stink on the third day."

They forecasted our second huge snowstorm of March for tonight/tomorrow. 8 to 50 feet of snow will be coming our way! That's what you'd think from the easily excited weatherpersons. I think it's actually 6 to 10 inches. (That's what she said!) But seriously folks, take my wife - please. I'm in a goofy mood today. Anywho, my friends and I have decided that this winter has been 2 thumbs down. We were lulled into a false sense of early spring by an early winter lacking in precipitation and bitter, bitter cold temperatures. Then we get to mid-to-late February and PA-POW! - cold-cocked!

Anyway, I know "in like a lion" and all that, but I thought it was supposed to be like Simba from Lion King kind of lion . . . a compassionate, wise, only-ferocious-when-necessary kind of lion. And James Earl Jones is the lion’s dad who speaks to him from beyond. “Simba. Do not snow on the weekend! No chance for emergency work closure!” Oh well.

Hey, they're closing this mo-fo down at 3:30. All hail Simba!

if i see any rubber nipples, i'm out

Ok, so a guy here is eating Cheerios. Out of a plastic bag. I love me some snacky time, but, man, he should be about 40 years removed from baggies of Cheerios. Although if they're Honey Nut, I might have to bust in on that.

CVS - for all your eye patch needs

I absolutely hate having to pay ATM fees. I am old enough to remember when no ATM anywhere had a fee associated with it, let alone your bank charging you an additional fee for using an "out-of-network" ATM. It is not my fault that the stupid bank doesn't have enough convenient ATM locations. But today, I was kind of stuck. I had concocted a yogurt parfait (fresh fruit + yogurt - is that all that's required of a parfait?) and was going to pay when I realized I might not have enough money to purchase my parfait. I had 4 bucks. The problem with the self-constructed parfait is that the fresh fruit is weigh-paid. I wasn't really sure how much it would cost especially since I had used the larger container (having previously used only the smaller one). There is an office ATM, but it's not part of my inherent banking world (naturally). I could have hid the parfait somewhere in the cafeteria, left, went out into the cold, cold air and walked to a fee-free ATM. I calculated this would take me about 15 minutes. I also knew I would feel guilty if someone discovered my parfait and tossed it - wasteful! I'm also lazy. But man, do I hate ATM fees. Ok, so I'm more lazy/guilty-feeling than a hater of ATM fees. Laziness - the most powerful force in humanity.

Later I had to make a trip to CVS . . . my hands are sand-paper dry. Combine that with winter and my hands are . . . steel-wool dry (?). So I was out of lotion and I need some - and how! Off to the CVS. I also picked-up some Visine for contacts (my contacts have been bugging the crap out of me lately . . . laser eyes, here I come!) where eye spied an eye patch. For serious? People go to CVS for eye patches? "Let's see. Let me fill out my list for CVS: lotion, visine for contacts, eye patch, super glue, rubber chicken, prosthetic leg, cool ranch doritos, zagnuts - 1 bushel, hook." I'm sorry, that was my stock pirate shopping list.

rihanna must be pleased

So, here in sunny Cleveland it's rained or snowed pretty much every day this week. It's kind of weird when you don't see the sun for long periods of time. I was out at lunch today when the sun had the audacity to appear. We all reacted like vampires - well, just as shocked, but not nearly so melodramatic or hissy.

In other news, aren't people who talk to themselves, per se weird? I mean, if we can't agree that a behavior NOT exhibited by like 99.9% of the population is weird, then is there such a thing? I only mention because this woman at work has a continuous, audible stream-of-consciousness thing going on - at least every time I'm walking by. For instance, the other day there were boxes stacked on top of a garbage can. I turned the corner and heard her say, "Whoah. Look at all these boxes." Later on I was talking to theMonica about the insane lady that works here and she was all disagreeing with me, like it wasn't kind of fucked-up. People aren't supposed to have OUTER dialogues . . . right? Sure we all mutter something to ourselves on occasion, but this lady takes it to the extreme.

Anyway, I'm off from work. Stay strong. Cuz if you get in a fight you want to be able to kick some ass and whatnot.

outside responses to overheard conversations

(or Who's who in politics?)

First, allow me to preface. As I learned from Barcelona it's best to avoid matters of controversy such as religion and politics. And generally, that's what I do because I find such topics tedious. People believe what they believe and I'm not smart enough to convince anyone otherwise. Anyway . . .

"What are our options? An old man, a stone-cold woman and a black guy that doesn't know he's black."

LOL

Apparently she doesn't hold our presidential candidates in high esteem.

the tell-tale foot

Someone in my cube area taps their foot - really hard. It's incredibly irritating. Just thought I'd share that.

I'm working on re-writing a program. As I said to someone else, it was originally written by a "team of insane, typing monkeys." How do you conjecture the intentions of insane, typing monkeys? Insane-typing monkeys, ok, you can figure most of it is just spazzing on the keyboard. But if they are mentally ill and they have a motive - how do you extract the algorithm? ITM do not leave behind documentation. Instead of documenting they lay on the branch of a tree on their back masturbating (with their feet) and upside down spitting/sucking their spit back into their mouths. This might seem like a particularly harsh view of monkeys, but I witnessed a chimp doing exactly that at the zoo. It was a day after prom event that my friends and our dates were enjoying.

Dang. That monkey got way more action than I did that weekend at like none of the cost.

nee roger

So, they might be moving us IT losers out of the downtown locale and into more suburban confines (Strongsville if you're familiar with NE Ohio). I am not a fan of the potential move. Although I'll admit that I wasn't in love with this place today as I walked in against 60 MPH gusts whipped on me at a heart-solidifying -875 degrees, overall I feel a move to Strongsville is a -1 (where one work happiness unit is of significant value).

Hmmm, I started writing this a long time ago and forgot the point . . . oh yes. One of my main beefs is that my current location has a work gym - the incredible convenience of which I appreciate frequently. New locale is currently gymless. I had at one time expressed to my boss that I wasn't much interested in the work-at-home program as I preferred to utilize the let's-get-physical facilities. Remembering this (?) she asked higher-ups if they'd be putting a gym in the new building. Ok, this is getting too long. She came over to talk about it and addressed me as "Mr. Workout Man."

That's my new name. Consider yourselves notified.

Bowling: It's right up my alley!

• The post title is for Alan. Hey, when I mine gold, I brandish it.
• Upninjky has been adopted. Word has it that the girl who moved into my old place is some sort of crazy cat lady (now give her some candy!) and she took that little vagrant in. Big props to Upninjky for persevering through my profanity-laced tirades whenever it ran into the house.
• The mime shirt is in full effect. I got to admit it makes me way happier than any other-guy clothing choice should.
• I'm going to have to get all 14-year-old girl on you . . . OMG! You know the angry baby from the Simpsons? Well, he's all grown up and he works at my office. It's freaking hilarious. I giggle every time I see him.
• I went with babyDaddy to a Cavs game Wednesday night. One guy was calling me Scott. The first time I thought, "Did he just call me Scott?" Whatev. And the next time he said it like 4 times without me responding (I had my back turned and hey my name's not Scott, so I didn't notice) and I only responded when he tapped me on the shoulder. Scott was a nice name to try on for a night, I guess. But how you derive that from Roger, I'm not sure.
• RE: above. I ate about 80000 calories worth of food. The bloat, she was mighty.
• I'm busy at work so the blog has suffered. Hmmm . . . it's almost as if there's a correlation . . . I'll have to check into that.

this here blog needs a post . . .

and I'm the only man for the job! (Due to poor planning when I created this.)

Anyway, I am essentially falling asleep at my desk and for some reason I thought this would help alleviate that. Instead it's the proverbial "gasoline on the fire." Honestly, if there is anything more boring than reading this blog it's writing it. Sheesh.

At any rate, I had two people ask me for help today. And it's like my initial thought is, "How do you have this job?" Not that I'm mega-ultra smart or anything, but they we're like not even in the right zip code solution-wise. So, I do it for them and try to explain. And next time they do it themselves! Wrong. Next time, they know I'm a sucker and just come ask me to begin with before spending any time on it.

Maybe I'll make them pay me for answers in Cool Ranch Doritos. Damn. I really want some Cool Ranch Doritos now.

community food cabinet update

Someone brought in . . . something. It’s a plastic bag filled with smaller, (papyrus?) bags tied at an end with green ribbon. It almost looks like elegantly-packaged weed.

I sincerely doubt that. Anyone with the kind of stones necessary to dump dope on the CFC is probably a ninja or a pimp. Pimps crazy.

incognito

This woman whom I see on a regular basis (she doesn't work in this office, but is at least a twice-weekly visitor) was walking by my cube and she said, "Do you have a lot more hair on your face?"

Now I've been rockin' the beard for over a month and have surely been in her presence with it at least a dozen times. So I was trying to figure out what she meant. I decided to say, "Probably a little more since the last time I saw you." She started laughing maniacally. Apparently, she hadn't noticed the beard at all prior to this morning. Then she said she was only "somewhat observant." I think she's more delayed observant? Not observant at all?

Bottom line, people - look at my beautiful face. It's good life fundamentals.

overheard

"You don't look like a salmon patty type of guy to me."

I guess I didn't so much overhear this as it was said directly to me. But I wasn't about to create a whole new virtual category of things I've heard.

At any rate, what type of guy is a salmon patty guy? What does said guy look like? Is pan fried salmon a particularly effeminate breakfast choice (plus 2 scrambled eggs)? I've always thought of it as a pretty neutral meal - sexual-orientationally.

I await your learned explanations.

tuesday is the new hump day

I am getting old. Well, I am at least getting sleepier as I thought old people slept less. I used to routinely go to bed after 1 and be at work after 7 (and before 7:30, wiseass). theMonica and I went to see No Country for Old Men last night. I liked it a lot. I think I loved it, but I want like to see it again to confirm. You know what I mean? Mostly what this guy said. At any rate, I could not wake-up this morning. And my arrival time has gradually been creeping later in the morning. Is this a function of being married?

Two people that are annoying me at work lately . . . Oscar the grouch (via his looks and not his attitude) asks me, nearly every day, "Are you still married?" He thinks it is the most hilarious thing (I mean, obviously). And ok, I chuckled at his persistence over the first 3 weeks, but now it's a little much. Oscar - go back to your garbage can.

Another person I've helped do some stuff and I don't get a thank you. It's just rude. Granted, I'm a big proponent of the driving "thank you wave," so maybe I'm a little sensitive. Nonetheless a little civility can go a long way. Anyway, you're welcome.

overheard

"I don't believe in painting wood. I think it's sacrilegious."

That's what she said!

Yes the god of 2 x 4s will rain down upon you a deluge of splinters. Woe is ye!

overheard

In line at the cafeteria:
"How big are your pancakes?"

It would have been funnier if the cook was a woman. It wouldn't have been funny at all if she said "the pancakes." Such is comedy.

well shave all my hair and call me JD Rockefeller

The office store clerks have this annoying habit of looking over your purchase and saying, "Is that all?" They don't say it in a helpful manner. Instead they say it like every teenage girl that's ever lost her virginity in a movie - that special mix of disappointment and disgust.

Jeebus woman! Do I look like I'm made of money? Do I have a soft-greenish hue? Are there traces of cocaine on me? (S      T      R      E       T      C      H      !) And even if I were, doesn't my 18 trips per day to buy food at this establishment sate your need to see me shove food into the black hole that is my mouth? I will have you know I just ate lunch. Twice.

Ok, maybe I oversell my fattiness, but I was extra hungry today or something. Speaking of underutilized candy bars, Zagnut. That's some good candy goodness right there. It's got that super-synthetic peanut-buttery filler, rolled into a coconut cocoon (and I'm not a huge fan of coconut). It's flaky deliciousness at its best. So support your street's Zagnut vendor and munch on a half-dozen or so.