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by Richard Timothy | Jan 9, 2010 | I Think There's a Point, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement, Working Observations
I’m alive! Not that there was any doubt mind you. But let’s just say there was more than once that I wouldn’t have minded performing a Kryten inspired head replacement for one that was functioning a little more properly. Yes, so maybe I watched some Red Dwarf while I was confined to my bed. Still, you can imagine my elation when I woke up this morning and didn’t have the sudden urge to blow my nose and take more pills.
It’s amazing how a morning of breathing normally after being sick in bed for three days can invoke a rather strong bipolar reaction to something that I’m normally not all the excited about. As I got out of bed this morning I was actually looking forward to the prospect of going to work. Yes, excited and happy to be going to work. Have you ever had that? Were you’ve felt so crappy for so long that even the crappy things you do daily like your commute to work, or for some simply going to work, no longer seem crappy?
As it turns out, this morning was a case of premature wellness. With the euphoria of being able to breathe through both nostrils at the same time, and after getting out of my first shower in three days I was cured! At least it felt that way at the time. Even the drive to work was a pleasant endeavor. I even finished Strata (a Terry Pratchett book), which Stephen Briggs was kind enough to read to me during my commute. And for the record, Stephen Briggs is no Ethan Hawke, so thank (insert deity of your preference here) for that! Still, about an hour after being at work the drudgery of my cold started to creep over me like cold honey being pored over a freshly steamed cabbage.
This motivated me to take some day-time cold medicine, which eventually helped. But let’s just say I have a few issues with the stuff. Night-time cold medicine at least lets you sleep through the mental sludge your brain start to wander through after you take the medicine. The day-time stuff enables you to stay awake for all the mental discombobulation.
Day-time cold medicine makes me feel like my brain was just tightly wrapped in duct tape causing a small empty space between where my brain and my skull meet. Now fill that empty space maple syrup. It makes me feel like there’s a half second delay between me and my brain with every body movement.
I walked to my boss’s office and stopped at his door to knock. As I stopped walking it felt like my brain kept moving bouncing off the front inside of my skull about half a second after I stop moving forward. It wasn’t a sharp pain, just a subtle wobbly pressure, kind of like watching someone get hit in the head with a water balloon made out of Jell-o in slow motion. Just not as messy.
I even took some Jackson 5 to listen to at work today. They have a way of bringing a smile to my face. There’s something about their songs that just makes my head start doing that Night at the Roxbury head bobbing thing, while tapping my foot in rhythm… or as close to rhythm as someone of my musical aptitude is capable of. The problem I found was the head bobbing is it’s more involuntary than not. The second I Want You Back started playing my head automatically started bobbing. I kept trying to stop it, but then ABC started playing and there it went again.
My brain felt like a small 5th grader trying to play on the seesaw with John Goodman. And every few seconds John would try to figure out how to get off the damned contraption, but would keep running out of energy each few seconds and flopping back down on the seat. All the while my brain holding on for all it’s might to avoid being flung uncontrollably into the air at any given second. Sadly, I had to turn off the little Michael and the brothers just to keep my brain from triggering any mental air bags.
Damn you day-time cold medicine.
On a plus note, I did leave a little early today. The decision happened shortly after I asked a coworker to come into my office to see if the heat was on too high. He thought it was nice, and much cooler than his own office. I was wiping sweat from my forehead when he told me that. Yeah, like I said it’s been a premature wellness kind of day. At least I got home before the rush hour traffic hit. And on a plus note, I didn’t get ill at all until after the holidays, so I guess there’s that.
How about you, any crazy day-time cold medicine stories… that won’t get you in trouble at work?
Image Source:
Google Images, key words: sick at work, seesaw, Jackson 5, and Strata.
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by Richard Timothy | Jan 2, 2010 | Gratefully Grateful, Public Service Announcement, Shamless Self Plug
Today is more of a shameless self plug… at least I think it is. I’ll let you know once I get done writing it. Still, if it does turn out to be the case, at least it wasn’t a shameful plug… or a shaming plug… or a hair plug… or plugged toilet for that matter.
With the season of giving now coming to a close accompanied by the fact that my birthday was yesterday, and having been asked from a number of people, “Rich, what do you want for your birthday?” I though I might as well address that question in today’s post.
I have been smirking most of my life, yet I have only been Smirking (capital S there) a few months now. I suppose if I were to create a mission statement for what I hope to accomplish with my writing it would be, “Making the world a better place one smile at a time.” Granted, now having said that let’s just say I won’t be surprised to see it become a song in some upcoming direct to DVD Disney release. HAVE YOU NO SHAME! To which I think we all know the answer to that… no, they don’t.
Actually I take it back, that mission statement is a touch too fru-fru, although I’m not exactly what fru-fru means. No I think a better mission statement would be, “Making strangers laugh because I’m funny damn it.” Hmm, no that one isn’t working either. I could try, “Creating smiles about the everyday…” nope not feeling that one either. How about, “Smirk me? Smirk YOU!” … God I suck at this. Bugger it, let’s call this whole mission statement thing off.
So about this gift request thing, here is what I would truly like for my birthday… give me (my writing that is) to others. To those of you that are reading and enjoying my clever antidotes, satire, observations, babblings, and wit please send a link of my writing to 5 of your friends that you think would enjoy reading it and/or friends who, quite possibly, could use a smirk from time to time. Think about it, it’s like sharing the gift of laughter with those you love… eww, that did come off rather excessively Hallmarkian didn’t it? Sorry about that. The request still stands though, for those of you that are up for the task.
And to all of you that are reading my smirks, thank you. I do greatly appreciate the comments, messages and emails that you send in. It’s always encouraging to hear new and old friends alike are finding smiles and laughs from reading my work. A big hug to you all (yes, I am a hugger). Let’s all have ourselves a brilliant 2010!
Side note: Ok, so I think it was more of a thankful self plug with a hint of self pimpage and just a dash of happy birthday to me. Point being, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a shameless self plug. Whew, I’m glad we got that sorted out.
Image Source:
Google Image, key words: happy new year and sharing.
by Richard Timothy | Dec 23, 2009 | Holiday Banter, I Think There's a Point, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement
With the holiday season well underway I am now starting to get a flux of the Happy Holidays cards and eCards. These cards vary in their themes and messages. Some cards have the traditional Peace on Earth and Good will towards Men (and women, and transgenders, and puppies, call center agents that really are not calling to piss you off but are calling because it’s the only job they could find and they have bills to pay too you know, and small fairytale creatures, and pygmies, and so on). Other messages suggested we forget peace on earth and goodwill towards men and play with a clockwork train instead.
I’ve received a few nativity cards, two of which were identical and from the same family name. It made me wonder if somebody’s kid was selling them for a school fundraiser or something like that. My guess is that the kid went to all their aunts and uncles for support and they bought the same cards. Or… the kid’s parents were really competitive and wanted their child to take first place in some holiday card selling competition. So they bought a bunch of cards and then gave as Christmas gifts to all their siblings last year… which, by the way, is a crap gift.
If you have done this, send an apology to everyone you gave card sets to. And if you are are planning on doing this, stop right now! Sure the recipients might smile and say thanks, but under their breath they’re probably going to call you a cheap mother ffffluffer, yes fluffer. You know, the people that work at department stores fluffing display pillows to attract the types of people that believe every possible space in a home where one might place their butt should be accompanied by a pillow. Besides, it also means that all of these friends are going to be sending you the same damn holiday card for the next five years.
I have gotten quite a few Winter solstice and Yuletide cards this year. All of which were made with recycled paper or would have been had a few of them not been eCards. I think the eCards still had that little recycled symbol on them though. Pagans love their symbols, but then again so does everyone else. Not that the recycle symbol is pagan in origin, but the message of reuse instead of waste, and caring for the planet seems acutely pagan. All the recycle bins around the world are the new pagan alters trying to get humanity back to their roots! Woo Hoo! Pagans! Wooo! Sorry about that, but I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for pagans. I mean they are singlehandedly responsible for all of the religious based holidays… well most anyway. And crap Hallmark holidays like Bring your Daughter to Work Day, Secretary’s Day, National Doctor’s Day, Flag Day, or Citizenship Day don’t count either. Hell, they don’t even count as real holidays.
I did get one Hanukkah themed card so far this year, which my friend decided to write in Yiddish. I thought it was a sweet gesture. Gut Yontiff to you as well. As for Kwanzaa, sadly no, no cards yet this year, but I am thinking of buying one and sending it to myself just for the inclusionary factor, but I’ve heard that’s cheating.
Now, I have heard on more than one occasion people proclaiming their annoyance that the other December holidays are infiltrating and taking the Christ out of Christmas. Posh! If you are one of these types of Christians celebrating Christmas, then hey, look at that, there it is… Christ right at the beginning of the word Christmas. Who knew? This complaint usually comes as a result of people getting all butt hurt when a local store, airport, city building, or likewise puts up a Happy Holidays sign instead of the Merry Christmas sign they use to put up.
I would like to say though, that if you are the type of person that is getting all bent out shape because some place replaced your singular holiday greeting with a more universal holiday greeting that still includes your holiday, well then you are bit of a douche and personally responsible for making baby G cry. Seriously, what kind of person does that? And to you people that are that way, let me just tell you, “NO! Bad human. No!” and you should really be smacked on the nose with a rolled up newspaper.
The mistake that these Happy Holiday anger balls are making is that the term is not diminishing anyone’s Christmas or sentiment about it. Happy Holidays is an inclusive term, meaning everyone. Not to mention, it allows for a level of personal laziness. Happy Holidays is a simple phrase that lets you to wish happiness and joy to someone without having to take the time to get to know them well enough to have the “What do you believe” conversation. Or at the very least, having to remember what they said when you did have that conversation. Because in my experience that conversation usually happens when there is a lot of alcohol involved. Also, using this phrase enables you to avoid guessing what others believe who might get pissing off if you guess wrong.
I personally dig this time of year. The food banks get restocked, and the homeless shelters get new blankets and clothes to help their fellow people who are experiencing hard times. People not only say they want peace on earth and good will towards others, they actually practice it. Sadly, the season usually ends in a drunken evening were everyone wakes up the next day with a hangover and a new year staring them in the face. I think the mass alcohol consumption causes most people forget about the humanity movement they were taking part in during the past month. But it only takes about 11 months and people start to remember they good feeling they got from helping others and start doing it again. You may call this sad, but it is 1 out of 12 is a lot better than 0 out of 12.
So, Happy Holidays to all of you and if this time of year doesn’t hold a holiday you care about or that applies to you personally, just make one up. That’s what I usually do. Its fun, its easy to do, and it doesn’t cost anything. Not to mention, if it results in the exchange of fresh baked goods between friends, family, and/or neighbors, well, that’s just pretty damn groovy.
What are your thoughts on this whole Happy Holiday thing?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: Happy Holidays, Hanukkah, nativity, Happy Solstice, all holidays together, and cookies.
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by Richard Timothy | Dec 14, 2009 | I Think There's a Point, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement
One of the things about the weekend, weekends in general I mean, is that you are typically home over longer periods of time than you normally are during the regular week. Meaning, you are much more apt to be at home when the occasional vagabond makes their way into your neighborhood and begins tapping at your front door.
Now when I was little and heard someone knocking at the door I would jump up and make a mad dash to see who it was going to be. The front door was a kind of random surprise and gift dispenser… with a doorknob. The knocking was the signal letting the entire house know that in what was previously an empty location now held the unknown.
It could have been mom with groceries… and cookies… YES! It could have been friends popping by to see if I could play. Maybe it was the pizza guy, or cousins with pizza, or maybe just the grandparents coming over to dinner. Hell, if the season was right I could have even been Santa. The possibilities were endless. Then again, there was always the chance that it was just some bloke wanting to talk to your dad. But you never knew for sure. All you had to do was twist the knob and see what was on the other side.
I’ve noticed something though, as I’ve gotten older a knock at the door, or ringing of the door bell, just doesn’t hold the same urgency it once did. Now days if I’m expecting company I either leave the front door open or I leave the front door unlocked and they know to just walk in. And if I’m not expecting company, let’s just say I no longer run to the front door to see who is there.
At the same time, it almost seems that people expect others to deal with a knocking door with the same fervor as a ringing cell phone. I’ve taken up to a minute to answer my door after an unexpected knock, and by the time I open the door, people are either back in their car and about to drive away, or are just not there. It’s as if they knocked, counted to 3 and assumed no one was home, so they leave. Unless of course it’s Halloween, then the little codgers will stay there and keep knocking for a good minute straight.
So, not to long ago, on a Saturday afternoon while I was home alone, there was a knock at the door. I even had pants on, so I was at the door in a reasonable amount of time. As I opened the door the first thing I noticed was a man in a suit. Now, living in Utah has resulted with me opening my door to a number of door to door salesmen, or women, that always travel in pairs. And I’m always willing to debate, hypothesize, philosophize, or banter about the finer points of selling gods and/or defining personal opinion and belief as universal truth.
Yeah, it always ends with people agreeing to disagree, and really does nothing to help evolve anyone opinions on the matter, but at least it’s entertaining, and the salespeople get a chance to get out of the weather and sit down for a while to talk and enjoy a beverage.
So you can imagine my initial joy at the prospect of one of these pointless entertaining conversations when I first opened the door. Turns out this chap had a lady standing next to him, which is nice because it automatically lets you know which Christian club house these people are from. Then, as I began to open my door to invite these people in, I noticed something that stopped me mid swing and made me swallow down the “Won’t you come in.” sentence I was about to say.
It was their kid, a little three or four year old boy standing next to their parents. I pointed at the kid, and almost said, “Hey! That’s cheating.” Instead I paused for a minute, and poorly covered up what I wanted to say with, “Oh, um, well done? I mean congratulations.” The Jehovah’s Witness parents looked at each other and then back at me and the husband offered a half confused thanks.
Damn, nothing but awkward small talk at this point. I was about to say something else, but that little person staring up at me kept throwing off my game. The husband took the lead during this lull in conversation and handed me a flyer, inviting me to an event their church was having next week.
I wanted to tell them to either save it or if they needed to pass all those out before going home they could just put them all in my recycling and go home early and enjoy their afternoon, but again, there was that little kid.
So as a public service announcement, to any door to door sellers, sharers, or preachers everywhere, please do not take your small children with you when you go door to door. It’s playing dirty is what it is. It greatly inhibits the conversation, and profanity professionals, such as myself, are left unable to practice their trade, well, to the full extent of their ability that is.
Have any of you experience this type of situation before? Did you go ahead and continue the conversation or did the little person with them trip you up too?
Image Credits:
Google Images, keywords: red door, Jehovah’s Witness, door to door salesman, little boy in suit, mom with groceries 50s, and debating.
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by Richard Timothy | Dec 2, 2009 | Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, Public Service Announcement
Pardon me while I climb on top of my soap box for today’s post. This time I’m here to talk about fashion!
Fashion… its, umm… its… ok seriously, what the hell is she wearing? If there ever was an image that encompassed the acronym “WTF” that picture would be in the top 5. Anyway, when I think of fashion I think of it as an industry synonymous with deceit, lying, and oxen defecation. I mean let’s face it the fashion industry has done more to promote anorexia and bulimia than any other industry out there. Have we learned nothing from Karen?
I do believe that fashion is predominantly nothing more that visual vomit splashed on a piece of cloth and made into an article of clothing that the creator expects people to pay a price that even a used car salesman, charging 15% over blue book, would consider a bit steep. Yeah, it might be a touch harsh, but in my defense I did grow up in the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s, so I do feel quite justified bad mouthing the fashion industry.
It’s not that I don’t understand fashion, I do get it. In fact I am a big fan of such classics as Levi’s, Doc Martens and cotton tee’s. But that’s just it, for every truly brilliant creation the fashion industry has given the world, there are some 17 million “good ideas at the time” that cause humanity to hang their heads in shame. Then to add insult to injury every 10 years or so the fashion industry, being devoid of the ability to actually create something new, attempts to rehash a bunch of old failed ideas in hopes that the new and upcoming younger generation will not know any better and think they are being “retro” and cool. Poor buggers never had a chance.
Granted there are some styles that were so bad that I’m not sure they can ever be brought back as a tangible “retro” or “back in” fashion. Case and point… parachute pants. They will forever stay in obscurity as the truly bad idea they were and still are. Anyone that actually wore them and thought they were cool will make sure of that. So kids, trust me when I tell you, never, ever, ever, EVER purchase, borrow, try on, or even go into a store that is selling parachute pants. Stay away from them at all costs.
Oddly, there are pack rats out there, which for some odd reason held on to a pair of these pants. Occasionally they will pull them out of storage for either Halloween or the random, yet always plucky, 80’s themed party, which I’m always game for. Say what you will, but going to an 80’s themed parties is a great way to take part in some cheep, yet useful, group therapy.
You bring some alcohol to share with friends and everyone dresses up in an outfit that they loved back in the day. Everyone laughs at each other, and then everyone cries, letting go of the built up shame they’d been storing inside for all those years. It’s a great time and a hell of a lot entertaining than actually going to therapy… besides when was the last time you got to enjoy a pint of jungle juice while sitting in your therapist’s office? For me it was… well, I don’t want to talk about it, but let’s just say I was young and in love, and didn’t know any better.
So back to this fashion thing, my wife showed me a video on YouTube the other day that I though was rather brilliant. Dove put it out a few years ago, but it was the first time I’d seen it. I think it’s worth sharing:
[googlevideo=http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-6915842737034217262&ei=SMkVS5–F472qAOnwaSoBg&q=dove+evolution&hl=en#]
If you cannot see video, click here.
To you skeptics, yes, I get that the industry standard is to adjust photo’s so they pass a professionalism standard. Likewise, I accept that Dove caters to that standard and Photoshop’s their ads as well, but some how I doubt it’s on the same level as the video portrays. The thing I appreciate is that they are actually trying to do something to bring beauty back to people and help others build self esteem, instead of stripping it away like I think the fashion industry has consistently done over the past decades.
The fashion industry has made a habit out of defining to us what beauty is, and sometimes we fall into the worse habit of actually believing them. They tell us we are not beautiful unless, of course, we purchase their product or their clothing. But it seems that this is starting to change a little, at least I hope it is. It would seem one company is trying, and I’m sure there are more out there doing the same. So to them, I say thanks, and to you, well I guess my point today is this: Beauty is not about what we wear, but about who we are, which means yes, damn it, you are beautiful.
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by Richard Timothy | Nov 25, 2009 | It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” It’s our unifying cry every time anyone attempts, well anything that does not go according to plan. I’ve personally lost track of how many times I’ve said it myself. It’s such a common human experience that I can’t imagine anyone has ever attempted to count their personal use of that phrase.
My most recent encounter with this phrase happened this past weekend. I was having a chili and Eddie evening with some friends. The evenings have been growing more and more chilled as of late. So I planned a little eve with some dear friends that included me cooking my homemade chili, which could technically be defined as more of an Italian bean stew. Regardless, it was perfect. A hardy and filling soup that warmed you up on a cold pre-winter night.
Along with the meal we enjoyed some wine, which only added to our inner warmth. Some friends did bring beer though; unsure if wine and chili made the type of flirtatious combination they were willing to try. The evening also consisted of all of us gathering together in front of the television to watch my Eddie Izzard’s Dressed to Kill stand-up DVD. Over half the people there had not seen it before, which is why it was the mandatory viewing for the evening.
And to those of you who have not seen this, go out right now and rent it, buy it, put it on the top of your Netflix queue, what ever you have to do, do it! Because it is one of the funniest and most brilliant comedy routines I have ever seen… unless, of course, you have a deep rooted abrasion to the f word, then sadly, you should probably skip it.
Right, so you might be wondering were “the phrase” comes into play. Well, up to that point, is was a night of fabulous food and wine, and two hours of giggling, chuckling, and open-mouth-whole-body-shaking laughter. Hell, we even had a few snorts, which personally just made me laugh more. It wasn’t until after Eddie that our evening experienced the “good idea.”
When it was brought up, it was just too Steinbeckian to believe. And I knew! Right after they said it I knew it was a bad idea. I even relayed Doc’s experience in Cannery Row in an attempt to express that others thought it was a bad idea too. But sometimes, sometimes there are things that truly do seem like a good idea at the time, regardless what others might tell you. My friends were determined, and so began the beer float portion of our evening.
Here’s what was used:
- 1 bottle of Guinness
- 1 tablespoon of Hershey Chocolate Syrup
- 2 scoops of chocolate ice cream
I did admire their uninhibited jump into the unknown of flavorful possibilities. I also appreciated their determination to ignore my warnings and try it anyway. Everyone that tried it responded with that involuntary facial distortion, which is natures way of telling you something is too sour, too strong (like a shot of high octane liquor), or just plain bad. It was like watching a group of little kids tasting lemons for the first time.
It was after one friend’s second attempt at tasting the beer float that I heard them whisper, “Well, it did seem like a good idea at the time.” It was that last attempt to remain optimistic while at the same time admitting defeat.
After everyone agreed that they couldn’t stomach another taste, I threw the leftovers into a blender, added some more ice cream, a shot of Bailey’s, and a shot of some type of coffee flavored liquor and made everyone a beer milkshake, cause, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Everyone did give it a try though. I even tried it and you all know how I feel about coffee flavors.
I didn’t like it, but to my surprise everyone drank almost all of their beer shake. Even the ones who had tried the beer float said it wasn’t that bad. I’m not sure that counts though. That’s like taking a bite out of a tomato injected with rubbing alcohol and then following it up with a shot of Tabasco sauce and a vodka chaser and saying, “That’s really not that bad.” I mean, sure it’s nice that you are being complementary, but let’s face it, after trying something that assaults every taste bud you have, anything you taste after that is going to be a vast improvement. Hell, you’d probably say a Pop Tart dipped in mustard “…isn’t that bad” after trying something like a beer float… or rubbing alcohol tomato.
It’s been four days now since the beer float, and everyone’s palate has rebooted from the experience, every time I mention “beer float”, my friends experience an uncontrollable shiver and make that “eahhh” sound, while shaking their head from side to side.
That’s life for you though, some times trying something new, like Eddie for example, is going to leave you laughing the rest of your life. I always get a smirk on my face whenever I think of “Cake or Death?” Then there’s, well, beer floats and to that let’s just say, “lesson learned” even if it did seem like a good idea at the time.
I’m alive! Not that there was any doubt mind you. But let’s just say there was more than once that I wouldn’t have minded performing a Kryten inspired head replacement for one that was functioning a little more properly. Yes, so maybe I watched some Red Dwarf while I was confined to my bed. Still, you can imagine my elation when I woke up this morning and didn’t have the sudden urge to blow my nose and take more pills.
I even took some Jackson 5 to listen to at work today. They have a way of bringing a smile to my face. There’s something about their songs that just makes my head start doing that Night at the Roxbury head bobbing thing, while tapping my foot in rhythm… or as close to rhythm as someone of my musical aptitude is capable of. The problem I found was the head bobbing is it’s more involuntary than not. The second I Want You Back started playing my head automatically started bobbing. I kept trying to stop it, but then ABC started playing and there it went again.
My brain felt like a small 5th grader trying to play on the seesaw with John Goodman. And every few seconds John would try to figure out how to get off the damned contraption, but would keep running out of energy each few seconds and flopping back down on the seat. All the while my brain holding on for all it’s might to avoid being flung uncontrollably into the air at any given second. Sadly, I had to turn off the little Michael and the brothers just to keep my brain from triggering any mental air bags.
