Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Food For Thought From The Front Lines
Just read this article written by a U.S. soldier in Iraq. His take on the real meaning of the recent death-toll milestone in Iraq. Illuminating and sobering.
American Express Saves Planet Earth
A memo I just received...
M E M O R A N D U M
Subject: AMERICAN EXPRESS WFC SUPPORTS EARTH HOUR CAMPAIGN
Date: March 26, 2008
To: World Financial Center Colleagues
From: Judy ------, VP, Corporate Social Responsibility
As a sign of our commitment to the environment, a number of American Express locations around the world will support Earth Hour, a global environmental campaign taking place on Saturday, March 29, 2008.
During Earth Hour, which began last year in Sydney, Australia, homes and businesses are encouraged to curb energy consumption by turning off their lights for the one hour period between 8:00 and 9:00 p.m. In this way, participants in Earth Hour can demonstrate that it is possible to take action on an issue as far reaching as climate change.
Here at the World Financial Center, we will support Earth Hour by turning off our lights for one hour beginning at 8:00 p.m. Also, there will be no heating or air conditioning on the floors during this time. Throughout the Earth Hour event, all emergency lighting and security systems will remain on as usual.
Wow.
Wow, AmEx. What a BOLD and DEFINITIVE gesture. You mean to tell me that you're willing to turn off the lights... for a whole hour ... At 8pm on a Saturday... When no one's fucking here??? And the air conditioning, TOO? At the end of March!!!?
You sirs, have my utmost respect. I am blown away and inspired by your innovation, your courage, your pioneer spirit, your willingness to risk.
You are the example we should all be living. You are the standard to which we all should strive. Your uncompromising tenacity and vision light the way for all of us.
My sincerest thanks to you, Company.
You make me proud to call myself an American. Express employee.
(contractor, technically)
...
God, I hate this place.
M E M O R A N D U M
Subject: AMERICAN EXPRESS WFC SUPPORTS EARTH HOUR CAMPAIGN
Date: March 26, 2008
To: World Financial Center Colleagues
From: Judy ------, VP, Corporate Social Responsibility
As a sign of our commitment to the environment, a number of American Express locations around the world will support Earth Hour, a global environmental campaign taking place on Saturday, March 29, 2008.
During Earth Hour, which began last year in Sydney, Australia, homes and businesses are encouraged to curb energy consumption by turning off their lights for the one hour period between 8:00 and 9:00 p.m. In this way, participants in Earth Hour can demonstrate that it is possible to take action on an issue as far reaching as climate change.
Here at the World Financial Center, we will support Earth Hour by turning off our lights for one hour beginning at 8:00 p.m. Also, there will be no heating or air conditioning on the floors during this time. Throughout the Earth Hour event, all emergency lighting and security systems will remain on as usual.
Wow.
Wow, AmEx. What a BOLD and DEFINITIVE gesture. You mean to tell me that you're willing to turn off the lights... for a whole hour ... At 8pm on a Saturday... When no one's fucking here??? And the air conditioning, TOO? At the end of March!!!?
You sirs, have my utmost respect. I am blown away and inspired by your innovation, your courage, your pioneer spirit, your willingness to risk.
You are the example we should all be living. You are the standard to which we all should strive. Your uncompromising tenacity and vision light the way for all of us.
My sincerest thanks to you, Company.
You make me proud to call myself an American. Express employee.
(contractor, technically)
...
God, I hate this place.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Ladies and Gentlemen... Please Welcome...
E L S I E * G E N E V I E V E * P O Y N T E R
Born Monday, 3/24/08
7:58pm. 6lb 9oz.
Our very good friends and next door neighbors Neil & Katie gave birth yesterday. The results are below. Pink, fresh and adorable.
This is going to be a great learning experience for The Missus and I, having a newborn within such close proximity. In fact, we just learned yesterday that each baby you have comes with a free hat. Which is pretty cool.
We're looking forward to getting to know her.
Friday, March 21, 2008
I Got Tagged For A "Meme"
So, laKetch tagged Certainlia and Certainlia tagged me. Since there's NOTHING going on at the office today, I was able to indulge.
Apparently, the below set of fill-ins are called a "meme". The reason is obvious. Enjoy...
I can't believe I've never...
Until recently I'd probably have said "seen The Godfather." But The Missus and I finally took care of Parts I & II in a pasta-filled Saturday about a month ago.
I guess there are other important movies and books I haven't seen or read that could easily fill this spot, but that feels a little too pedestrian.
I would say that I can't believe I've never really been single or "dated", but I can believe it. I'm a serial monogamist who ended up meeting the future Missus within weeks of a called-off wedding engagement to a girl I met within weeks of being dumped by my high school sweetheart. Odd but true.
So, let's see.... AH. I got it. Over beers the other night, Neil was giving me the dope on his recent root canal and was astonished to hear that... I've never had a cavity. Or a filling. I guess I can't believe it either.
Everytime I think about...I still cringe
Ugh. So many of these. I guess one of the worst is the following...
Growing up, I was surrounded by older people. A retirement-age father, a live-in grandmother, elderly neighbors, much-older half-siblings, etc. On top of that, I was a smart kid. Between my intelligence and my circumstances, I assumed a level of maturity that I may or may not have actually achieved but that the adults around me were willing to accommodate and encourage. I never had to sit at the "kids table". I was included unapologetically in whatever social functions my parents engaged in. I was never told to butt out of an obviously adult conversation. And when my folks wanted to go see a movie - be it "The Blue Lagoon" or "Kramer vs. Kramer" - they took me along. I'm not saying this is right or wrong. I will say that I would probably be a little more discerning with my own kids, but in the end I don't think it did any permanent damage. The salient point of this is that from a very early age I considered myself an adult. And as such, I was occassionally prone to assuming an authority over my peers that I simply did not have.
Which brings us to...
The late 70's. Mary Moppett's Day Care. Omaha, Nebraska.
It's TV time. TV time is supposed to be for watching TV. That's what we were told to do. By Debbie. Debbie the day care worker. Debbie with the long, straight, brown hair parted down the middle and reaching to the small of her back. Debbie with the skin-tight Chic jeans and flowy white blouse that opened generously whenever she bent over. Debbie who might very well have been my first crush.
TV time is for watching TV. That's what we were told to do. By Debbie. An adult. And I took doing what adults told you to do seriously.
So, I'm sitting there. Indian style. Quietly sipping lukewarm chocolate milk. Being attentive. Being good.
And then I see him.
I don't remember his name, but I remember his knotted blonde curls and ceaselessly snot-streaked cheeks. I want to say his name was Dennis, but it probably wasn't. He was the booger kid. Every day care and elementary school had one.
Dennis had decided to get into the toy bin. He'd decided that TV time wasn't for him and that he'd prefer digging a Tonka truck out of the toy bin and plopping himself down on a pile of coats he'd knocked over. He'd decided that running the Tonka truck along the orange carpet while sucking his thumb and making loud "vrooooom" noises while everyone else was trying to watch "The Electric Company" was more up his alley. Even though we'd been told to watch TV and be quiet.
Something about this felt like injustice to me. As someone who always did what they were told. As an "Electric Company" fan. And as someone who - on many levels - considered himself an adult.
As this was going on, Debbie was in the adjoining room. She was not seeing this and therefore was not able to correct it. Which I just knew she would, if she were in the room. If she were seeing this. She would say that this injustice simply would not stand.
So, in Debbie's absence (and because I was the only available adult in the room) I took action.
I went over to Dennis.
I went over and I...
I spanked him.
I took the truck out of his hand, scolded him in front of the entire class, turned him over onto his belly and I...
I spanked him.
In the moment, it felt perfectly natural. It felt perfectly justified. I think on some level I even felt like it was expected of me.
I was wrong.
I remember sensing something approaching from behind. Quickly and with intent. Her energy reached me before she'd even crossed the threshold. I turned around in time to see Debbie rounding the corner from the next room, eyes wide, mouth agape, long hair flowing behind her as she careered toward me. She was fuming. Really fuming. Actually emitting fumes. I'd never seen anyone so angry. To this day, I vividly remember the expression on her face as she grabbed me by the arms and asked me what the hell I thought I was doing. What the hell was wrong with me. Scolding me in front of the entire class. Scolding me. Lightly swatting my butt as she sent me out of the room. Sending me crying to Pam. Pam who ran Mary Moppett's. Pam who made me sit in the corner of the empty room for the rest of the day.
My mother got the full story from the staff when she came to pick me up. The shock was enough that, apparently, I wet my pants. Which I never did. I have no memory of that part. According to her, she asked me on the way home if I wanted to talk about it. I said "no". She accepted that as my answer and we spent the rest of the ride in silence.
I cringed through the entire writing of this response.
I wish I'd...when I had the chance.
I wish I had investigated my severe TMJ when I had insurance.
I've never felt so out of place as when I...
walk through the doors of American Express every morning.
There was also the time I ended up at a UNO frat party. I might have felt more at home if I'd had a plaid oxford, a baseball cap, a koozy-wrapped PBR and said "Doood!" at a high-volume every minute or so... But I didn't.
...is my guiltiest pleasure.
"Rock of Love with Brett Michaels". Don't you dare judge me.
I hope...knows how grateful I am for...
My mother. For wiping out her retirement savings to pay for acting school so I wouldn't be saddled with student loans the rest of my life. And for always letting me just be who I am.
My brother. For trying to toughen me up when I was a kid. It didn't work then. But I think it has served me later in life.
My wife. For getting me.
Bono, Edge, Adam & Larry. For any of the countless live versions of "Where The Streets Have No Name" that I listen to before every audition.
God. For literally everything.
In my darkest hours I secretly blame...for my dysfunction.
Ma. Dad. Grandma. Distraction. Addiction. Everyone but myself.
...changed my life forever.
Watching U2 close the Amnesty International "Conspiracy of Hope" concert on MTV in the summer of 1986.
I'd be remiss not to also include:
* Punk rock. - 1986
* "Somewhere I have never travelled..." - 1992
*"Howl" - 1992
*Frank Miller's graphic novel series "The Dark Knight Returns" - 1985
*Having a local theatre group approach my folks about using our cafe to create "Diner Theatre" - 1983
*Watching "sex, lies & videotape" - 1993
*Performing "Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll" - 1994
*Pubic hair - 1988
*Hiking the Grand Canyon for the first time - 1999
*Meeting The Missus - 1997
*Birth - 1973
*The iPod - 2004
Okay, Frantic Puppy and Big Mike... You're it.
Apparently, the below set of fill-ins are called a "meme". The reason is obvious. Enjoy...
I can't believe I've never...
Until recently I'd probably have said "seen The Godfather." But The Missus and I finally took care of Parts I & II in a pasta-filled Saturday about a month ago.
I guess there are other important movies and books I haven't seen or read that could easily fill this spot, but that feels a little too pedestrian.
I would say that I can't believe I've never really been single or "dated", but I can believe it. I'm a serial monogamist who ended up meeting the future Missus within weeks of a called-off wedding engagement to a girl I met within weeks of being dumped by my high school sweetheart. Odd but true.
So, let's see.... AH. I got it. Over beers the other night, Neil was giving me the dope on his recent root canal and was astonished to hear that... I've never had a cavity. Or a filling. I guess I can't believe it either.
Everytime I think about...I still cringe
Ugh. So many of these. I guess one of the worst is the following...
Growing up, I was surrounded by older people. A retirement-age father, a live-in grandmother, elderly neighbors, much-older half-siblings, etc. On top of that, I was a smart kid. Between my intelligence and my circumstances, I assumed a level of maturity that I may or may not have actually achieved but that the adults around me were willing to accommodate and encourage. I never had to sit at the "kids table". I was included unapologetically in whatever social functions my parents engaged in. I was never told to butt out of an obviously adult conversation. And when my folks wanted to go see a movie - be it "The Blue Lagoon" or "Kramer vs. Kramer" - they took me along. I'm not saying this is right or wrong. I will say that I would probably be a little more discerning with my own kids, but in the end I don't think it did any permanent damage. The salient point of this is that from a very early age I considered myself an adult. And as such, I was occassionally prone to assuming an authority over my peers that I simply did not have.
Which brings us to...
The late 70's. Mary Moppett's Day Care. Omaha, Nebraska.
It's TV time. TV time is supposed to be for watching TV. That's what we were told to do. By Debbie. Debbie the day care worker. Debbie with the long, straight, brown hair parted down the middle and reaching to the small of her back. Debbie with the skin-tight Chic jeans and flowy white blouse that opened generously whenever she bent over. Debbie who might very well have been my first crush.
TV time is for watching TV. That's what we were told to do. By Debbie. An adult. And I took doing what adults told you to do seriously.
So, I'm sitting there. Indian style. Quietly sipping lukewarm chocolate milk. Being attentive. Being good.
And then I see him.
I don't remember his name, but I remember his knotted blonde curls and ceaselessly snot-streaked cheeks. I want to say his name was Dennis, but it probably wasn't. He was the booger kid. Every day care and elementary school had one.
Dennis had decided to get into the toy bin. He'd decided that TV time wasn't for him and that he'd prefer digging a Tonka truck out of the toy bin and plopping himself down on a pile of coats he'd knocked over. He'd decided that running the Tonka truck along the orange carpet while sucking his thumb and making loud "vrooooom" noises while everyone else was trying to watch "The Electric Company" was more up his alley. Even though we'd been told to watch TV and be quiet.
Something about this felt like injustice to me. As someone who always did what they were told. As an "Electric Company" fan. And as someone who - on many levels - considered himself an adult.
As this was going on, Debbie was in the adjoining room. She was not seeing this and therefore was not able to correct it. Which I just knew she would, if she were in the room. If she were seeing this. She would say that this injustice simply would not stand.
So, in Debbie's absence (and because I was the only available adult in the room) I took action.
I went over to Dennis.
I went over and I...
I spanked him.
I took the truck out of his hand, scolded him in front of the entire class, turned him over onto his belly and I...
I spanked him.
In the moment, it felt perfectly natural. It felt perfectly justified. I think on some level I even felt like it was expected of me.
I was wrong.
I remember sensing something approaching from behind. Quickly and with intent. Her energy reached me before she'd even crossed the threshold. I turned around in time to see Debbie rounding the corner from the next room, eyes wide, mouth agape, long hair flowing behind her as she careered toward me. She was fuming. Really fuming. Actually emitting fumes. I'd never seen anyone so angry. To this day, I vividly remember the expression on her face as she grabbed me by the arms and asked me what the hell I thought I was doing. What the hell was wrong with me. Scolding me in front of the entire class. Scolding me. Lightly swatting my butt as she sent me out of the room. Sending me crying to Pam. Pam who ran Mary Moppett's. Pam who made me sit in the corner of the empty room for the rest of the day.
My mother got the full story from the staff when she came to pick me up. The shock was enough that, apparently, I wet my pants. Which I never did. I have no memory of that part. According to her, she asked me on the way home if I wanted to talk about it. I said "no". She accepted that as my answer and we spent the rest of the ride in silence.
I cringed through the entire writing of this response.
I wish I'd...when I had the chance.
I wish I had investigated my severe TMJ when I had insurance.
I've never felt so out of place as when I...
walk through the doors of American Express every morning.
There was also the time I ended up at a UNO frat party. I might have felt more at home if I'd had a plaid oxford, a baseball cap, a koozy-wrapped PBR and said "Doood!" at a high-volume every minute or so... But I didn't.
...is my guiltiest pleasure.
"Rock of Love with Brett Michaels". Don't you dare judge me.
I hope...knows how grateful I am for...
My mother. For wiping out her retirement savings to pay for acting school so I wouldn't be saddled with student loans the rest of my life. And for always letting me just be who I am.
My brother. For trying to toughen me up when I was a kid. It didn't work then. But I think it has served me later in life.
My wife. For getting me.
Bono, Edge, Adam & Larry. For any of the countless live versions of "Where The Streets Have No Name" that I listen to before every audition.
God. For literally everything.
In my darkest hours I secretly blame...for my dysfunction.
Ma. Dad. Grandma. Distraction. Addiction. Everyone but myself.
...changed my life forever.
Watching U2 close the Amnesty International "Conspiracy of Hope" concert on MTV in the summer of 1986.
I'd be remiss not to also include:
* Punk rock. - 1986
* "Somewhere I have never travelled..." - 1992
*"Howl" - 1992
*Frank Miller's graphic novel series "The Dark Knight Returns" - 1985
*Having a local theatre group approach my folks about using our cafe to create "Diner Theatre" - 1983
*Watching "sex, lies & videotape" - 1993
*Performing "Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll" - 1994
*Pubic hair - 1988
*Hiking the Grand Canyon for the first time - 1999
*Meeting The Missus - 1997
*Birth - 1973
*The iPod - 2004
Okay, Frantic Puppy and Big Mike... You're it.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Sexually Explicit Spam of the Day
Every day, like most Americans, I receive between 1 and 15 spam e-mails of some sort of sexually explicit nature. I'm sure you've received some yourself. (Yes, you.)
The titles of most of them make me laugh out loud. It makes you wonder if someone actually took the time to come up with these subject lines or if a computer randomly assembled them from a set of predetermined keywords in a sort of pornographic tip-of-the-hat to "Mad Libs".
Today I bring you the first in what will be an ongoing series of posts in which I feature some of my favorite cybersex come-ons.
Hence Sexually Explicit Spam of the Day #1:
From: gaineschris27@ yahoo.co.uk
Subj. Sailors and skanks on the high seas! oophyte
Which begs the following questions...
The titles of most of them make me laugh out loud. It makes you wonder if someone actually took the time to come up with these subject lines or if a computer randomly assembled them from a set of predetermined keywords in a sort of pornographic tip-of-the-hat to "Mad Libs".
Today I bring you the first in what will be an ongoing series of posts in which I feature some of my favorite cybersex come-ons.
Hence Sexually Explicit Spam of the Day #1:
From: gaineschris27@ yahoo.co.uk
Subj. Sailors and skanks on the high seas! oophyte
Which begs the following questions...
- Is Chris Gaines a real 27 yr old in the UK who wants me to see this? Or some poor schmuck who got his e-mail address highjacked to send smut out into the world?
- How did the sailors and the skanks end up on the high seas together? Was it a cruise? Or some sort of co-ed fishing expedition gone awry?
- "Oophyte." A newly developed chemical lubricant? Some overheard onomonopeia from the excursion? Or a scientific classification for people who enjoy sex on a boat?
If I wasn't absolutely certain it'd automatically erase my entire hard drive, I might just open the message and find out...
Monday, March 17, 2008
That's Deep
About every year or so, our corner bodega gets a new owner. The one constant throughout the 10 years I've been frequenting (and occasionally boycotting) this deli is that:A) it has always smelled bad
2) most of the products on the shelves pre-date the Carter administration
D) it is overpriced and
5) it has always had the same fadded, tattered, beat-to-shit sign bearing the pathetically generic name "United Deli".
Well, in what I hope signals a raft of new changes to come, ONE of those things is finally not the case.
Congratulations, Probably-Gruff-and-Unhygenic New Owner! Thanks for making some kind effort!
Now... Let's just see if this guy can come up with a respectable price for toilet paper. You wanna really impress me? 4 rolls for under $3.99.
C'mon...
I dare ya...
Thursday, March 13, 2008
An Open Letter To Everyone In My Office
No.
I didn't see "American Idol" last night.
I do not watch "American Idol".
Please stop asking.
And when you're standing around chittering amongst yourselves about it...? Do it further away from my cube.
No, I can still hear you.
Nope. Further.
No, I can still hear you.
I can still hear you.
...
Perhaps you should simply find something else to talk about.
Thank you.
I didn't see "American Idol" last night.
I do not watch "American Idol".
Please stop asking.
And when you're standing around chittering amongst yourselves about it...? Do it further away from my cube.
No, I can still hear you.
Nope. Further.
No, I can still hear you.
I can still hear you.
...
Perhaps you should simply find something else to talk about.
Thank you.
Monday, March 10, 2008
"Client 9" Offers A Visual Clue To Explain His Need For Involvement With A Prostitute
Seriously, though? I'm SO disappointed. I proudly voted for this man based on his work as NY's Attorney General. I was totally down with his platform, his approach, his take on the issues . The Bruno stuff was annoying but this.... I mean... C'MON, dammit.
...
I'm just so disappointed...
Friday, March 07, 2008
No More Frozen Waffles
Actually, frozen waffles became the default metaphor given my past experiences with the temporary bachelorhood I experience when my wife travels. This time around it was hot dogs.-
I don't think I'll be eating hot dogs again for quite a while but if you are planning a hot dog dinner some time soon and need a wine pairing, I can tell you 3 reds that go very nicely and 2 that don't really work.
-
-
That aside, The Missus returned from Honduras last week and I have to say, it was not a moment too soon. Almost immediately after she left, Kanga decided to develop an abscess in her anal gland. ( ... ) Long story short, it involved an emergency trip to the vet, holding on to my poor, terrified, quivering dog until she howled herself hoarse while the vet drained this awful swollen thing, shelling out hundreds of dollars on the spot that I hadn't budgeted and walking out with a three-legged dog with a cone on her head. (Sidenote: Cone-head on a regular dog = funny. Cone-head on a 3-legger = pathetic and mildly heartbreaking)
-
Turns out the cone screwed up her equilibrium enough that she could barely get around and couldn't lay down at all. Which meant that I had to remove it. Which also meant that I had to take the next two days off of work to stay home with her, give her her antibiotics, flush out her abscess with a syringe and make sure she didn't try to lick her asshole. It was a miserable couple of days for both of us. Incidentally, I developed a whole new respect for single parents. -
The Kanga ordeal was just the beginning of a string of trying situations that popped up over the next two weeks. My wife travels often and by now I've got my system pretty well down for how things operate when I'm flying solo. But this trip was different. It was longer. Money was tight. Shit happened. And over the course of those two weeks, I was really reminded what a partnership marriage is. Not just emotionally, financially, etc., but logistically. It's very much like trying to go about your daily life with an arm tied behind your back. And a solid reminder of the many roles spouses play in each other's lives.
-
-
You can read The Missus' impressions of Honduras here.
-
Welcome back, love.
-
-
Now, don't fuckin' go anywhere for awhile, 'kay...?
Now, don't fuckin' go anywhere for awhile, 'kay...?
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
I'll Be So Glad When This Douchebag's Outta Here
Wow. We know Bush is not a smart man. We know he's not eloquent. We know he's classless. We know he's standoffish. We know he's smug. We know he's an oversimplifier.
But I've never seen him in such rare form as in the below.
He's never been presidential, but here he's particularly casual. He's always seemed more like a high school baseball coach than a president. But watching him take questions from the press, he looks like a high school baseball coach who's had a few beers after a game that his team lost. The kind of coach who -at home, later - will beat the shit out of his son, the star pitcher, for blowing the game.
I'm so glad this buttfuck is out of here soon.
Let's just hope he doesn't blow up the world before next January.
But I've never seen him in such rare form as in the below.
He's never been presidential, but here he's particularly casual. He's always seemed more like a high school baseball coach than a president. But watching him take questions from the press, he looks like a high school baseball coach who's had a few beers after a game that his team lost. The kind of coach who -at home, later - will beat the shit out of his son, the star pitcher, for blowing the game.
I'm so glad this buttfuck is out of here soon.
Let's just hope he doesn't blow up the world before next January.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
U2ube Video of the Week (Resuscitated) - #8 - The Ballad of Ronnie Drew
Bono and the boys assemble an Irish supergroup for a tribute to Dublin legend Ronnie Drew.
Like most people, I didn't figure it possible for Shane McGowan to look worse than he always has.
... It is.
My God. Here he looks like he got pissed out of his gourd, stumbled out of the pub and into the street, directly in front of an oncoming garbage truck. ....Which, apparently, left him retarded. And then he somehow managed to find his way into the studio. It's really quite miraculous.
Conversely, based on the footage below it does not look like there is any basis for my wife's crush on Larry to go away any time soon.
Like most people, I didn't figure it possible for Shane McGowan to look worse than he always has.
... It is.
My God. Here he looks like he got pissed out of his gourd, stumbled out of the pub and into the street, directly in front of an oncoming garbage truck. ....Which, apparently, left him retarded. And then he somehow managed to find his way into the studio. It's really quite miraculous.
Conversely, based on the footage below it does not look like there is any basis for my wife's crush on Larry to go away any time soon.
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