Black Friday

I got one thing to say to you people that make a big deal about shopping today.....

You're a bunch of idiots!

T-Day Traditions

Ah, Turkey Day. Fall, food, beer and the couch. I’ve been looking forward to T-Day for a while now, but this year is going to be sad for a number of reasons. Just thinking about it has me reminiscing a lot, but I’ll get over it and life goes on! See, growing up, holidays were a big event. It seemed so to me anyway. Christmas has its routine, Easter, Halloween, etc, etc. How many of you had Easter baskets that your mom hid? We did! Oh, she could be sneaky! Most often it was easy, hidden behind the door, chair, etc. Not always though, ya just couldn’t count on easy. Trick or Treating? He hit the neighborhood TWICE! I had a BUCKET of candy I could swim in. Christmas? Man, I’ve got so many Christmas memories I don’t know where to begin. But that’s a month away. Thanksgiving was all about the food, and in a family of 4 kids and 2 dogs, that’s a lot of food. Turkey, taters, stuffing (yuck), gravy, cranberry sauce, John Cope’s Dried Creamed Corn, more food I can’t remember and….. BOOZE! That’s right, Cold Duck. The cheapest bubbly you could get I think, and my parents actually GAVE us a glass!!! I’m not saying when I was 6, I don’t recall when it started, but I do recall my sister Kelly would take a sip and hand it to me, ICK! We had these really thin crystal glasses, slightly pink in color, and seems like this was the only time we used them. Not even sure where they are now, SIGH!

Years ago when most of my siblings had young kids, it became harder and harder to get everyone home on the actual day of Thanksgiving, so my Pop changed it up a bit and started celebrating weeks earlier. It’s never really been the same. I like tradition, really do, and started to do my own thing, no family be damned!!! I get a big turkey, (small ones are just too easy to screw up), and I do everything but the stuffing. Cold Duck is still around, though at slightly twice the price of $3.99 a bottle, and Cope’s corn is out there: http://www.pageneralstore.com/prodinfo.asp?number=COP-001. It’s an all day process of making the house smell great, eating and eating some more. Football is on, and if I’m in the mood, I rake leaves! And do you think the dogs love it? Oh yeah.

http://bigdaddy-enterprises.com/images/mov00533.mpg

So this year we are going to the In-Laws in Oklahoma, but don’t get me wrong, it’ll be a great time! The food is good, the company peachy… it’s just not home. I’m already planning on doing “ma own thang” Saturday, but it won’t be the same. Already scheduled that day is a pinball pick up, and it’s Saturday, not Thursday, so it’s different. And don’t get all teary eyed, but I was reminded a few weeks ago that it’s been 20 years since mom died. That’s half my life ago. Cheers Mom! I’ll have a glass of Cold Duck for ya!

Fun at Radio Shack

Everyone knows I'm a nerd, or used to be one anyway. Believe it or not, I had a shy streak too. I'm not sure why I thought of this little story today, but maybe it has something to do with getting up at 2AM thinking it's 5, and the pot of coffee is almost gone.

20 years ago I worked for Radio Shack. Most nerds did, and it was the best work experience of my life. This is also the dating years, and somehow I managed to get a few. There's not many opportunities to hit on girls while working at The Rat Shack, so when a good lookin' gal comes in, you try to make the best of it. I remember it as a cold, near Christmas day, and in to my store comes a very attractive seemingly shapely lady in a long dark mink coat. I'm thinking of how to make small talk, which I'm never good at when I think I'm out of my league, and besides, she's gone straight to the batteries, looks like she knows what she's needing. Man, I wonder if she's wearing anything under that coat. STOP IT. She's going to the counter, I must ring her up! Think of something witty...witty.....

She plops down the batteries.

I muster up.

"My, that's a lot of batteries!"

"Yeah, they're for my vibrator....."

---GULP---

She reaches over and puts her hand on mine and says "I'm kidding".
I recoil in horror. I don't remember much else. We didn't date.

No wonder people go "Postal"

I got a letter the other day (addressed to Tom) from the post office. They will no longer pick up my packages that I leave for them on the front porch. Why? Well, it's TOO much work. Too much I tell you for the mailman to sort at the end of the day. Oh, they'll still do it, if I DAILY predict the number of packages I'll have, sorted by class and total weight. By 2AM, I need to log this info for pickup the following day. They need this info so they can justify someone's data. I have suggestion for you, COUNT them! Now, I can take the packages to the drop box around the corner, or take them to the post office, and the EXACT same work will be done, but apparently I'm a burden to the letter carriers at the end of the day. My 10-20 on average packages add (I timed this) oh, less than a minute to their day to sort.

Yup, this is the thanks I get for spending $11,854.55 in postage since I've become self employed.

There will be no Christmas present for Bill this year.

Learn to park idiot....

Part of the problem with griping in a blog is that if you have any decency about you, you want to sometimes leave out names and specifics so you don't stir up "problems". You don't want to make things worse, and certainly don't want hurt feelings. It's OH so tempting sometimes though. You want to WARN people, and at the same time, vent to feel better. So I'll leave out the name of the pizza place that is next to my little Shoppe in case one of them actually has the brains to use the Internet, wouldn't want to offend anyone. So the point of this blog?

LEARN TO PARK YOU STOOPID IDIOT!!!

This has really become a pet peeve of mine. I'm not talking so much about the random self centered peeps you see in the mall parking lot that think their Acura NSX shouldn't get a ding, so they park in two stalls, I'm talking about the near daily incompetence of the pizza dudes and check cashing employees that are in the same building as my pinball showroom/office. There's 6-8 parking slots running along an angle in front of my door where there's too much asphalt in front, but crap weasel man, see the lines? They don't. See the dude (me) loading up & unloading pinball machines every other day? Yeah, I might want to get in my front door. See how few spots there are? Yeah, believe it or not, others want to park here too. You're going to park here 9-5? How about leaving the ONE spot open so I can get in my door. What most bothers me is when they go over the line and right up to my front door, not only taking up two spots, but I've actually NOT been able to fully open my front door cause of someone's bumper. Mind you, this is 20 feet outside the parking lines. Pictures tell the story:

What line? I'm on top of it so I can't see it.

This genius took lessons from the guy above. Oh, and he parks here all day, not a delivery dude.

Yeah, same dude. Can you believe I've TALKED to this dude? That's my car door to the left, think anyone can squeeze in there?

This one's a little tough to see, but that's the FRONT line behind his rear tire, and my front door is a foot in front of his bumper. Then you can see the corner of the other car to the right, between the two of them, they were taking up 4 spots.

Now I have to admit that these aren't the brightest bulbs in the pack, but honestly, how hard is it?

A fuzzy ducky story

See??

OK, so Saturday I was helping my buddy Mitch pick up some pinball games, and as it went, he needed to go get lunch for his wife, which left me alone with said wife, dogs and their not quite yet 3 years old daughter. Noa is a peach, smartest kid I've met in a long time, and I gotta love her cause from early on, she's known my name, my dogs, Tracy and for some reason, actually seems to like me. I wish I had pictures of her standing amoung the towering pooches, trying to actually pet their heads while all along giggling and trying to say "Keeestoonnnnee".

So there we are, sitting on the couch waiting, and Noa is playing Bobbleheads. I'm not exactly sure what this means, but it involves uh.... Bobbleheads! They're all laid out on a mat, and just there, and I guess you play with them. Wanting to interact, I pick one up and wiggle it about. Noa at first gives me this look, like WOMEN do. "What are you doing with my bobblehead?" she's saying with her eyes, distrust spears firing away. But as I'm shaking it, she seems to quickly gain interest, and comes over and sits down in front of me. And the following conversation is why I can't have kids:

Me: "What's this guy's name?"
Noa: "That's (something I can't remember)!!"
Me, bobbling: "And do you know why it's head is shaking like that?"
Noa: "Cause it's a BOBBLE head!"
Me: "No, cause he's been smoking crack!"

To which Dawn immeditely picked up her kid and left the room and called the cops. Not really. Sorry Dawn, but I had a good laugh, and really hope I didn't ruin your child.

I bitch, therefore I am

So it's been on my mind that I've not posted a blog lately, now it's approaching 2 months. So why, may you ask, have I not posted? Well, too busy is always the easy excuse, but in the back of my mind I guess I've been a little affected by a comment a good buddy of mine made to me which in essence said "you sure do bitch a lot". OK, it wasn't really said that way, but then again, it was. So then of course every time I thought of a great topic to post about, it was a great topic to BITCH about, and I didn't! And then the days passed and I'd think of another gripe and wouldn't post and here it is, 2 months later. I guess it comes down to personality traits, I'm not one to just "let it go" like some, and I think that's part of the reason I am how I am. Or who I am. Or whatever. Bitching = stories, and stories are meant to be told, that's what I'm telling myself anyway. So, sorry if I bitch too much, but it's who I am. And I'm gonna do more. I'll throw in the fuzzy ducky stories once in awhile too, just to screw things up.