Me: Hey, you wanna go check out Where The Wild Things Are tomorrow?
The Nihilist: No can do. Freud’s Concept of the Uncanny.
Me: A simple “fuck you” would had sufficed.
In other news, it snowed here all yesterday. I spent the better part of this morning scraping ice of the Jeep, mastering Tokyo drifts on the way into the office, and just plain freezing.
This calls for drastic measures.
I’m heading out to LA until this cold front blows over…or Thursday. It will be good to be back someplace where the weather fits my clothes.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Raining More Than Ever
I’ve lost my sense of humor.
This has never happened before and I’m not sure what to make of it. I’m sure it’s one of those things like losing your car keys. However, I even looked in the couch cushions and still came up with nothing.
I need to relax and recharge.
I was supposed to do this over my leave. Unfortunately, my so called “holiday” rivaled work in the stress department. I dread leave. It’s a week of making up for months of absence. In the end, somebody is inevitably left scorned and I’m still exhausted.
Adding to my angst, I aided in the presenting of an American flag to a 20 year old widow and her one year old son.
If anyone comes across my funny please let me know. I need it now more than ever.
This has never happened before and I’m not sure what to make of it. I’m sure it’s one of those things like losing your car keys. However, I even looked in the couch cushions and still came up with nothing.
I need to relax and recharge.
I was supposed to do this over my leave. Unfortunately, my so called “holiday” rivaled work in the stress department. I dread leave. It’s a week of making up for months of absence. In the end, somebody is inevitably left scorned and I’m still exhausted.
Adding to my angst, I aided in the presenting of an American flag to a 20 year old widow and her one year old son.
If anyone comes across my funny please let me know. I need it now more than ever.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
In Case You Were Wondering
I’m currently on holiday relaxing in the quiet and tranquility of……
….Baltimore.
….Baltimore.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
I Feel Like a Poorer, Undersexed Version of Tony Stark
I’m back.
To say that it’s been a crazy month would be a gross understatement. I returned from Hawai’i with just enough time to do my laundry, repack my suitcase, and catch another plane out of Colorado.
Last week I found myself on another dangerous mission…The American Institute of Aeronautics and Astronautics Multi-National Ballistic Missile Defense Conference in Boston.
If that title just doesn’t scream party you need to get back to physics class.
In all seriousness, it was a highly educational week. Among the things I learned…..
- When drinking heavily at an open bar reception with the German Luftwaffe one should be careful not to drop a napkin on your tables candle….attempt to put it out with extremely flammable beverages…then act as nothing happened as a thousand people stare at you.
- At the reception the following night one should also not take the preemptive measure of discharging a fire extinguisher on members of the German Luftwaffe.
- Regardless of the conference’s advertised theme, suggesting the whole thing should just be called “Meeting of Really Old, Really Horny, and Really White Dudes Who Conveniently Forget Their Wedding Rings” won’t win you any friends in contractor circles.
- In the exhibitors hall one should refrain from setting up a folding table and pasting a sign to it which reads “Lazzers 4 Sale Cheep”. With that, don’t man the table with a horrible French accent.
- French defense types have an even a worse sense of humor than French civilians.
- Inflating your importance to impress the hot Israeli representative you know is a spy by passing yourself off as the Colonel in your office will lead to no good and lots of paperwork.
- The protocol types’ asking if you or The Boss have any special needs isn’t an invitation to make a ridiculous list reminiscent of something Keith Moon would scribe. (Trying to find a Shetland pony in Boston named Guano is apparently difficult)
- Pointing out to other nations that defence is really spelled defense doesn’t help international relations.
- The folks working the badge table are way too trusting and willing to accommodate. Hence, I was Dr. DeCampo all week long.
- Screaming “YOU LIE!” during the opening remarks isn’t nearly as funny as it was when you did it in your head. (i.e.: “I want to thank you all for coming…” YOU LIE!)
That pretty much sums up the actual conference. Well, at least the parts that won’t get me into too much trouble. In closing, Boston is a beautiful place filled with some of the rudest assholes in the world.
In other news, I am negligent on following and commenting on everyone’s blogs. For this I offer my deepest most heartfelt whatever.
Now if you will excuse me I have another plane to catch……
To say that it’s been a crazy month would be a gross understatement. I returned from Hawai’i with just enough time to do my laundry, repack my suitcase, and catch another plane out of Colorado.
Last week I found myself on another dangerous mission…The American Institute of Aeronautics and Astronautics Multi-National Ballistic Missile Defense Conference in Boston.
If that title just doesn’t scream party you need to get back to physics class.
In all seriousness, it was a highly educational week. Among the things I learned…..
- When drinking heavily at an open bar reception with the German Luftwaffe one should be careful not to drop a napkin on your tables candle….attempt to put it out with extremely flammable beverages…then act as nothing happened as a thousand people stare at you.
- At the reception the following night one should also not take the preemptive measure of discharging a fire extinguisher on members of the German Luftwaffe.
- Regardless of the conference’s advertised theme, suggesting the whole thing should just be called “Meeting of Really Old, Really Horny, and Really White Dudes Who Conveniently Forget Their Wedding Rings” won’t win you any friends in contractor circles.
- In the exhibitors hall one should refrain from setting up a folding table and pasting a sign to it which reads “Lazzers 4 Sale Cheep”. With that, don’t man the table with a horrible French accent.
- French defense types have an even a worse sense of humor than French civilians.
- Inflating your importance to impress the hot Israeli representative you know is a spy by passing yourself off as the Colonel in your office will lead to no good and lots of paperwork.
- The protocol types’ asking if you or The Boss have any special needs isn’t an invitation to make a ridiculous list reminiscent of something Keith Moon would scribe. (Trying to find a Shetland pony in Boston named Guano is apparently difficult)
- Pointing out to other nations that defence is really spelled defense doesn’t help international relations.
- The folks working the badge table are way too trusting and willing to accommodate. Hence, I was Dr. DeCampo all week long.
- Screaming “YOU LIE!” during the opening remarks isn’t nearly as funny as it was when you did it in your head. (i.e.: “I want to thank you all for coming…” YOU LIE!)
That pretty much sums up the actual conference. Well, at least the parts that won’t get me into too much trouble. In closing, Boston is a beautiful place filled with some of the rudest assholes in the world.
In other news, I am negligent on following and commenting on everyone’s blogs. For this I offer my deepest most heartfelt whatever.
Now if you will excuse me I have another plane to catch……
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Your Tax Dollars at Work
I'm happy to report that Operation Theodora Hula Gold was a complete success. What? You don't have knowledge of this operation?
It basically consisted of me going screw this, I'm going to Hawai'i for a few days to drink Mai Thai's with the Aussies.
Cue the dropping of a obnoxious "MISSION ACCOMPLISHED" banner in three...two...
Friday, September 11, 2009
Someone Farted On My Pillow
Have I told you how I share an office with a very pregnant, very hormonal Major Lady Death Strike?
Yes, she is pregnant with twins. Of course I don’t say publicly that she is pregnant with twins but rather “with baby death strikes”.
This morning I woke up looking like I spent all night partying with Keith Moon and John Bonham. My normally blue/green eyes had been replaced by eerily red orbs. Chalking this up to my lifestyle, I thought nothing of it.
Until I went into the office…
At which point the very pregnant, very hormonal MAJ Lady Death Strike told me if I took one more step into the office she would be forced to shoot me dead where I stood. I was then evicted and ordered not to return until I had been cleared by a doctor. She thinks I have pink eye. I think I have a case of Lieutenant who treats his body like an amusement park.
Apparently, both are ailments she doesn’t want her unborn death strikes exposed to.
I have reluctantly made an appointment for this afternoon at the hospital. Until then I live in a state of both exile and fear that the military docs will use this ailment as an excuse to execute another rectal exam.
The things I do for unborn death strikes....
***UPDATE***
I have escaped military medical treatment without a finger up my ass. However, I have been diagnosed with pink eye.
Guys like me just don't come down with pink eye. One of your little outbreak monkeys infected me!
Wait....could it be possible...did the Smurf fart on my pillow???????
In other news, the doctor refused to issue me an eye patch.
Yes, she is pregnant with twins. Of course I don’t say publicly that she is pregnant with twins but rather “with baby death strikes”.
This morning I woke up looking like I spent all night partying with Keith Moon and John Bonham. My normally blue/green eyes had been replaced by eerily red orbs. Chalking this up to my lifestyle, I thought nothing of it.
Until I went into the office…
At which point the very pregnant, very hormonal MAJ Lady Death Strike told me if I took one more step into the office she would be forced to shoot me dead where I stood. I was then evicted and ordered not to return until I had been cleared by a doctor. She thinks I have pink eye. I think I have a case of Lieutenant who treats his body like an amusement park.
Apparently, both are ailments she doesn’t want her unborn death strikes exposed to.
I have reluctantly made an appointment for this afternoon at the hospital. Until then I live in a state of both exile and fear that the military docs will use this ailment as an excuse to execute another rectal exam.
The things I do for unborn death strikes....
***UPDATE***
I have escaped military medical treatment without a finger up my ass. However, I have been diagnosed with pink eye.
Guys like me just don't come down with pink eye. One of your little outbreak monkeys infected me!
Wait....could it be possible...did the Smurf fart on my pillow???????
In other news, the doctor refused to issue me an eye patch.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Conqueror of Famed Peaks
This past weekend the Smurf and I strapped on our finest adventure flip fops and took to the summit of Pikes Peak. Despite several feathered beast attempting to carry off the Smurf, we both survived.
In other news, I'm outraged that my President didn't take the opportunity to speak about the benefits of socialism to our nations school children yesterday.
Disgusting.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Paranoia Strikes Deep
One day I stumble upon a Soldiers blog. I enjoy the way he mocks the system, ridicules his worthless Lieutenant, and respect how he views the world Through Amber Lenses.
I shoot a couple of comments to him and we have a good time trading smart ass jabs.
I notice that he hasn’t posted in awhile. I don’t think too much of it knowing how sketchy internet access is in Iraq.
Then I stumble across this post on another Soldiers blog……
I shoot a couple of comments to him and we have a good time trading smart ass jabs.
I notice that he hasn’t posted in awhile. I don’t think too much of it knowing how sketchy internet access is in Iraq.
Then I stumble across this post on another Soldiers blog……
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Where’s My International Male Catalog?
Off Site: An event held by leadership outside the confines of the normal work environment to discuss issues facing the organization. This is done so as the organization can determine if a change of scenery was at the root of the problem all along (hint: it wasn’t). See also boondoggle.
Does your organization hold off sites?
Mine does. In fact, they can’t get enough of them. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing as we refuse to hold them anywhere that isn’t a resort town/cool city. This allows us to blow off the off site and go off of the off site and, well, get off.
I’m currently getting off in Opryland USA, Nashville.
Nice place Nashville. You can’t stumble without hitting a bar, honky tonk, or doe eyed aspiring singer/song writer on the way down.
More on that later…
The thing that is getting my goat is the dress code for this clever ruse to stay at a resort. I think that they are taking the “senior” in [my Command] Senior Leader Off Site to heart.
Last week an email was sent out explaining how it’s inconceivable that we be capable of accomplishing anything in jeans or t-shirts. A strict uniform of colored shirts, slacks, and hush puppies was established.
Or as I like to call it, the conservative-white-male-over fifty-look.
Does your organization hold off sites?
Mine does. In fact, they can’t get enough of them. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing as we refuse to hold them anywhere that isn’t a resort town/cool city. This allows us to blow off the off site and go off of the off site and, well, get off.
I’m currently getting off in Opryland USA, Nashville.
Nice place Nashville. You can’t stumble without hitting a bar, honky tonk, or doe eyed aspiring singer/song writer on the way down.
More on that later…
The thing that is getting my goat is the dress code for this clever ruse to stay at a resort. I think that they are taking the “senior” in [my Command] Senior Leader Off Site to heart.
Last week an email was sent out explaining how it’s inconceivable that we be capable of accomplishing anything in jeans or t-shirts. A strict uniform of colored shirts, slacks, and hush puppies was established.
Or as I like to call it, the conservative-white-male-over fifty-look.
Upon surveying the scene I’m beginning to think that it will be impossible for me to accomplish anything while having to interact with conservative white men over fifty wearing golf shorts with socks pulled up to their thighs.
Oh, and I’ve already been called out on my wardrobe.
Apparently if something cannot be tucked in it fails to meet the criteria of being a fashionable ensemble. Trust me that no good will come of trying to explain the debonair essence of Banana Republic and Territory Ahead fashion against a “senior” wearing $20 Wal-Mart kakis*.
In other related news…..
At any second a sunset will magically appear in the room, a reassuring narrator will come on, and I will be witness to a prescription male enhancement commercial in real time.
Yeah, the scene is that bad.
*I’m being generous with this figure.
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