Tuesday, March 13, 2012
I give up, you win.
Watching and reading and hearing about all of the caucus debates is getting to be a bit much. All of the empty promises and the childish attacks - I feel like a vegetarian who's been given the choice between chicken and beef. I can't wait for the presidential debates so I can wonder why I eat at all.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Today's Lesson.
I keep seeing the acronym "FML" on Facebook, on Twitter, and a few other socially hip sites. Today, I learned that FML doesn't mean "fax me later".
Sorry, I guess I got a little behind the times. You would have thought that the "fax" part should have been a clue, but nooooo.....
Sorry, I guess I got a little behind the times. You would have thought that the "fax" part should have been a clue, but nooooo.....
a good relationship is a miserable one?
As guys, we have a very simple relationship standard: if our girlfriend or wife (or "girlfriend and wife" for the more adventurous among us) is happy, then we are happy. To us it's obvious -- if we do everything to please the love of our life and she is happier than the New York Giants winning the Super Bowl, then we're all winners. Toss me a cold beer, boys! Life is good.
However, according to a recent study, women have a far more convoluted standard to judge the success of their relationships. Are you ready for this earth-shattering revelation about mars and venus?
Well, hold on to your asteroid belt because, apparently, the fairer gender of our species is happy only when she believes her male counterpart is miserable. The intricate workings of female logic goes like this: the more miserable her favorite fella is, the more work he must be putting in the relationship. A happy partner is a no-good, lazy partner.
I bring up this little tid-bit because several of my male friends are planning a weekend camping trip while leaving their fair-maidens behind in civilization. The idea is that the time apart will do everyone some good.
I guess my unsuspecting friends haven't read this incredible study of life between the sexes. Otherwise, they would know there is only way their happy women will be in the throes of absolute bliss: the men have to return with horrible stories of their camping experience. My friends will have to regale horrific tales of enduring skunked beer, bad food, freezing snow while a boiling sun baked their skin. Instead of fish-a-plenty biting at their hooks, their wolverine boots will have to be actual live wolverines gnawing on swollen feet of my buddies.
Of course, if one bro needs a break-up plan, he only has to utter those relationship-killing words, "Yeah, I had a great time!" (As long as he doesn't add the phrase, "without you". That would be the kiss of death. His, not the relationship.)
So remember, if a man is happy because his lady is happy, then she must be happy because he is miserable. It's so obvious, I don't know why I didn't think of it.
Yes, I do. I didn't think of it because I'm a guy.
And some people wonder why men die sooner than women.
However, according to a recent study, women have a far more convoluted standard to judge the success of their relationships. Are you ready for this earth-shattering revelation about mars and venus?
Well, hold on to your asteroid belt because, apparently, the fairer gender of our species is happy only when she believes her male counterpart is miserable. The intricate workings of female logic goes like this: the more miserable her favorite fella is, the more work he must be putting in the relationship. A happy partner is a no-good, lazy partner.
I bring up this little tid-bit because several of my male friends are planning a weekend camping trip while leaving their fair-maidens behind in civilization. The idea is that the time apart will do everyone some good.
I guess my unsuspecting friends haven't read this incredible study of life between the sexes. Otherwise, they would know there is only way their happy women will be in the throes of absolute bliss: the men have to return with horrible stories of their camping experience. My friends will have to regale horrific tales of enduring skunked beer, bad food, freezing snow while a boiling sun baked their skin. Instead of fish-a-plenty biting at their hooks, their wolverine boots will have to be actual live wolverines gnawing on swollen feet of my buddies.
Of course, if one bro needs a break-up plan, he only has to utter those relationship-killing words, "Yeah, I had a great time!" (As long as he doesn't add the phrase, "without you". That would be the kiss of death. His, not the relationship.)
So remember, if a man is happy because his lady is happy, then she must be happy because he is miserable. It's so obvious, I don't know why I didn't think of it.
Yes, I do. I didn't think of it because I'm a guy.
And some people wonder why men die sooner than women.
DST - Daylight waSte of Time.
What was that saying? Fall behind, spring ahead ... so you can be even further behind. That's why I am going to set my clock back 23 hours tonight. This way I will have lost nothing and will get to spend my daylight savings immediately.
Thursday, March 08, 2012
International Women's Day.
Today is International Women's Day! Hurray! I would celebrate but all the international women I know live overseas.
Of course, I could visit the local Korean-owned nail salon for a manicure, or rather, a man-icure. Then, I could go to the International House of Pancakes and tip the waitress a little more generously with my stylized hands.
Nah. I'll just wait until November 19 for International Men's Day and treat myself with German beer, Mexican food, and Chinese take-out. Until then, I'll just practice.
Of course, I could visit the local Korean-owned nail salon for a manicure, or rather, a man-icure. Then, I could go to the International House of Pancakes and tip the waitress a little more generously with my stylized hands.
Nah. I'll just wait until November 19 for International Men's Day and treat myself with German beer, Mexican food, and Chinese take-out. Until then, I'll just practice.
Don't exhale when you read this.
In today's absolutely mind-blowing, weird news, I learned that the Reverend Pat Robertson actually advocated the legalization of marijuana. My first thought was, ˝What is that guy smoking?˝ But that question sort of answered itself. In any case, I guess this gives a new meaning to Mr. Robertson as a holy roller.
Sunday, March 04, 2012
Gold Rush
So silence is, what, over $1700 an ounce. However, with my annoying friend, silence is a lot cheaper. More like aluminum foil – very crinkly and as disturbing as chewing on it.
The price for gold is so high that people are doing all sorts of crazy things. Oh sure, you can go various places and, for example, “
buy gold at Golden Eagle”. Yet, many folks are more interested in selling their personal items for profit.
Recently, I saw Goldilocks go into pawn shop that advertised high dollars for your golden goodies. She walked out a short time later with her head shaven and her purse bulging with money. As sunlight bounced off her bare cranium and onto the side of the building, she said, "This experience will give me time to reflect."
Rapunzel heard about Goldilocks’s financial windfall, and set about coloring her brunette tresses into a radiant golden blonde. However, when she went into the same place, they told Rapunzel that her plating was much too thin to amount to much.
I'm hoping for a time when silver is rage and costs thousands of dollars an ounce. Perhaps then I can turn my graying locks into retirement money. Although I'm sure they have a policy against buying fools gold.
The price for gold is so high that people are doing all sorts of crazy things. Oh sure, you can go various places and, for example, “
buy gold at Golden Eagle”. Yet, many folks are more interested in selling their personal items for profit.
Recently, I saw Goldilocks go into pawn shop that advertised high dollars for your golden goodies. She walked out a short time later with her head shaven and her purse bulging with money. As sunlight bounced off her bare cranium and onto the side of the building, she said, "This experience will give me time to reflect."
Rapunzel heard about Goldilocks’s financial windfall, and set about coloring her brunette tresses into a radiant golden blonde. However, when she went into the same place, they told Rapunzel that her plating was much too thin to amount to much.
I'm hoping for a time when silver is rage and costs thousands of dollars an ounce. Perhaps then I can turn my graying locks into retirement money. Although I'm sure they have a policy against buying fools gold.
rewarding work
The amount of panic shown by upper management was incredible. After all, the entire issue revolved around a small square-head set screw. Who knew that a three-quarter inch piece of metal could cause so much turmoil for our bosses?
Naturally, what was at stake was nothing trivial to those powers-that-be. This mac 90 screw would decide the fate of their $5,000 bonus – a bonus that wouldn't affect their employees who were doing the actual work.
Yet, somehow, somewhere, someone had already depleted inventory for this normally unimportant artifact. Now, fingers pointed, accusations flew, temper tantrums ensued, and more importantly, production came to a halt. No orders would be going to the customer on that last day of the month. Replacement parts would be in the next day; but that all-important bonus depended on what went out the door in February.
Then, at the 11th hour, a miracle occurred. It happened long after the executives had gone home that afternoon to their golf games and martinis.
After spending a grueling 14-hour day in a scramble to fill all of the months orders, a couple of employees dismantled several warranty returns, and sifted through many more drawers in the maintenance area. They managed to find enough screws to complete that critical shipment for their overseers’ bonuses.
So, in the end, upper management received their windfall. As for those dedicated workers, well, they have yet to receive a “thank you”.
Naturally, what was at stake was nothing trivial to those powers-that-be. This mac 90 screw would decide the fate of their $5,000 bonus – a bonus that wouldn't affect their employees who were doing the actual work.
Yet, somehow, somewhere, someone had already depleted inventory for this normally unimportant artifact. Now, fingers pointed, accusations flew, temper tantrums ensued, and more importantly, production came to a halt. No orders would be going to the customer on that last day of the month. Replacement parts would be in the next day; but that all-important bonus depended on what went out the door in February.
Then, at the 11th hour, a miracle occurred. It happened long after the executives had gone home that afternoon to their golf games and martinis.
After spending a grueling 14-hour day in a scramble to fill all of the months orders, a couple of employees dismantled several warranty returns, and sifted through many more drawers in the maintenance area. They managed to find enough screws to complete that critical shipment for their overseers’ bonuses.
So, in the end, upper management received their windfall. As for those dedicated workers, well, they have yet to receive a “thank you”.
What Am I Trying to Say Here
Look at this phrase and telling which word doesn't fit: "small business loans bad credit". That's right! All of them!
First of all, the motivated, wealth-driven, visionary as an entrepreneur doesn't think in terms of “small”! You have got to think big, Gigantic, ENORMOUS! "small" is for shrimp boat captains! And you aren't a shrimp boat. Are you!
Forget the word "business". Instead, think in terms of "providing a profitable and pleasurable transaction with your victim… I mean, your customer." To be successful, you got to think positive. And wordy. Nothing sells ice cream to the Eskimos better than wordy confusion. (As this post may prove.)
Loan? We don't deal in loan. We deal in loans; with the capital S! We deal in the temporary acquisition of another's resourceS ... unless, of course, those resources involve sharks. We don't deal with loan sharks. Too bitey. And no capital S.
Ahhh, the old, negative, downer of a word "bad". Unless you are working on your street-cred, and you need to be bad to be good, we should just skip the word altogether to avoid confusion. However, if your confusion is bad in a good, street-cred manner, be sure to use "baddeSt" (again, with the capital S to show how badly good you is. Word.)
Finally, there is “credit”. Always remember that we are a successful, tough-minded, take-no-prisoners kind of entrepreneur. We give credit to no one! We might take credit, but that's the kind of non-shrimp boat, wordy, non-loan shark dealing, confused kind of person that we are.
And there you have it! I have no idea what it is, but you are welcome! Please pay at the door as you leave.
First of all, the motivated, wealth-driven, visionary as an entrepreneur doesn't think in terms of “small”! You have got to think big, Gigantic, ENORMOUS! "small" is for shrimp boat captains! And you aren't a shrimp boat. Are you!
Forget the word "business". Instead, think in terms of "providing a profitable and pleasurable transaction with your victim… I mean, your customer." To be successful, you got to think positive. And wordy. Nothing sells ice cream to the Eskimos better than wordy confusion. (As this post may prove.)
Loan? We don't deal in loan. We deal in loans; with the capital S! We deal in the temporary acquisition of another's resourceS ... unless, of course, those resources involve sharks. We don't deal with loan sharks. Too bitey. And no capital S.
Ahhh, the old, negative, downer of a word "bad". Unless you are working on your street-cred, and you need to be bad to be good, we should just skip the word altogether to avoid confusion. However, if your confusion is bad in a good, street-cred manner, be sure to use "baddeSt" (again, with the capital S to show how badly good you is. Word.)
Finally, there is “credit”. Always remember that we are a successful, tough-minded, take-no-prisoners kind of entrepreneur. We give credit to no one! We might take credit, but that's the kind of non-shrimp boat, wordy, non-loan shark dealing, confused kind of person that we are.
And there you have it! I have no idea what it is, but you are welcome! Please pay at the door as you leave.
Saturday, March 03, 2012
bad love, no vampires needed
His head ached as he ended the phone call with her. But not as much as his heart. As he slowly rested the receiver back in its cradle, his memory tortured him with the sounds of when her voice was once full of love and hope and happiness.
But now, the honeymoon was over. Her tones were full of unspoken gripes and complaints. Behind her cheerless voice, he heard "what have you done for me lately?" In the beginning, it was her implicit coos of "what can I do to make you happy?" made him give love a second chance.
But now, like the strangling hold of Wisteria vines around a mighty oak, she had him now. Try as he might, he could not stop her true personality from infecting his life. He had as much chance as hiring a durham house cleaning service to work for him in Antarctica as he did trying to untangle his life from his latest mistake - her.
There was a time when her love was a wonderful fire that warmed and filled his heart. Now, it was a raging, crazed inferno that threatened to reduce his life to ashes. Our hero had no idea how he was going to save himself this time.
But now, the honeymoon was over. Her tones were full of unspoken gripes and complaints. Behind her cheerless voice, he heard "what have you done for me lately?" In the beginning, it was her implicit coos of "what can I do to make you happy?" made him give love a second chance.
But now, like the strangling hold of Wisteria vines around a mighty oak, she had him now. Try as he might, he could not stop her true personality from infecting his life. He had as much chance as hiring a durham house cleaning service to work for him in Antarctica as he did trying to untangle his life from his latest mistake - her.
There was a time when her love was a wonderful fire that warmed and filled his heart. Now, it was a raging, crazed inferno that threatened to reduce his life to ashes. Our hero had no idea how he was going to save himself this time.
Sermon On The Monte
To deal with engineering problems at work, we sometimes have to perform a "Full Monte". This has nothing to do with being naked around power tools. We just call our futile exercise of humiliation as the "Full Monte." Basically, we strip our pride and bare our souls to release new, untested products that sales sold ahead of time in spite of our protests.
Sales and management often enjoy "counting chickens before they hatch" while forgetting the part about buying the rooster. But it's engineering's fault as we frequently point out that little necessity during the development process to production.
Anyway, we use a statistical tool called a Monte Carlo simulation, hence the "Monte" part. We take adjoining pieces in an assemble and simulate all the possible sizes that our vendor will send us.
This exercise answers many questions. Such as, how likely will the resulting assemble be too large, too small, or a just-right fit? And, how likely will we meet the customer’s requirements? And, how likely with the VPs get a large bonus for making us use sub-standard parts that may or may not be the correct size? And, how likely are we wasting time on an exercise where we already know how bad production will be? (Surprisingly, pay raises never makes the list of things most likely to occur.)
Monte Carlo is a very versatile statistical tool. When I think of the name, I’ve wondered if people ever used it back in the days of “Let’s Make a Deal” show? The master-of-ceremonies, Monte Hall, would randomly pick overly excited contestants from an audience full of people wearing the most outrageous costumes. I have no doubt that these people did everything possible to get selected - included the use of complicated math.
One time, I remember Monte (the person, not the algorithm) chose a rather large woman dressed as a big ol’ montecristo cigar. This happened during the late 80's when such a get-up was funny. Those crazy cigar moments have changed since the days of President Clinton. Since his administration, you can thank the anti-smoking people for taking a giant super-soaker to such tobacco hilarity. I think it's their fault. I could be wrong.
Oh well. Where was I? Oh yeah, we use math at work without getting naked. Probably a good thing. The last thing we need is for Human Resources to make a Montezuma out of a molehill.
Sales and management often enjoy "counting chickens before they hatch" while forgetting the part about buying the rooster. But it's engineering's fault as we frequently point out that little necessity during the development process to production.
Anyway, we use a statistical tool called a Monte Carlo simulation, hence the "Monte" part. We take adjoining pieces in an assemble and simulate all the possible sizes that our vendor will send us.
This exercise answers many questions. Such as, how likely will the resulting assemble be too large, too small, or a just-right fit? And, how likely will we meet the customer’s requirements? And, how likely with the VPs get a large bonus for making us use sub-standard parts that may or may not be the correct size? And, how likely are we wasting time on an exercise where we already know how bad production will be? (Surprisingly, pay raises never makes the list of things most likely to occur.)
Monte Carlo is a very versatile statistical tool. When I think of the name, I’ve wondered if people ever used it back in the days of “Let’s Make a Deal” show? The master-of-ceremonies, Monte Hall, would randomly pick overly excited contestants from an audience full of people wearing the most outrageous costumes. I have no doubt that these people did everything possible to get selected - included the use of complicated math.
One time, I remember Monte (the person, not the algorithm) chose a rather large woman dressed as a big ol’ montecristo cigar. This happened during the late 80's when such a get-up was funny. Those crazy cigar moments have changed since the days of President Clinton. Since his administration, you can thank the anti-smoking people for taking a giant super-soaker to such tobacco hilarity. I think it's their fault. I could be wrong.
Oh well. Where was I? Oh yeah, we use math at work without getting naked. Probably a good thing. The last thing we need is for Human Resources to make a Montezuma out of a molehill.
Friday, March 02, 2012
Faking Yourself Into Better Deals.
As the TV actor barely held on to the enormous sandwich, his hamburger look tempting enough for me to drive to the advertised fast food joint in my pajamas. Fortunately, I know a few things about advertising, so reason prevailed. That and a large pizza in the oven.
The makers of commercials must think we are idiots. For example, most of us know that the actor is just a tad over 3 feet tall. Since a mini muffin will look like a five layer cake in his hands, it's no surprise that the tantalizing, overpriced, tiny hamburger will look it like it could feed most of Ethiopia.
Still, I think the advertisers on to something. People are more likely to surrender their hard-earned money when you make an overvalued object seem like a better deal than it really is.
So let’s put this philosophy to use. The next time you go to a gas station, have a child hold the handle in its wee hands while you watch the rapid changing price on the pump display. Then you can say to yourself in amazement, “I must be getting a great deal on my gas! Look at how much fuel is being pumped by those small hands!“
Yes, I know. As gas prices go higher, we’ll eventually need a newborn to pump our gas. But think of the deal that we'll be getting on our petrol purchase. And we'll need a pacifier to help choke back our tears.
The makers of commercials must think we are idiots. For example, most of us know that the actor is just a tad over 3 feet tall. Since a mini muffin will look like a five layer cake in his hands, it's no surprise that the tantalizing, overpriced, tiny hamburger will look it like it could feed most of Ethiopia.
Still, I think the advertisers on to something. People are more likely to surrender their hard-earned money when you make an overvalued object seem like a better deal than it really is.
So let’s put this philosophy to use. The next time you go to a gas station, have a child hold the handle in its wee hands while you watch the rapid changing price on the pump display. Then you can say to yourself in amazement, “I must be getting a great deal on my gas! Look at how much fuel is being pumped by those small hands!“
Yes, I know. As gas prices go higher, we’ll eventually need a newborn to pump our gas. But think of the deal that we'll be getting on our petrol purchase. And we'll need a pacifier to help choke back our tears.
my golden baby
In less than 2000 miles, my Hyundai Tiburon will cross the 300,000-mileage mark. My previous car, a Nissan stanza wagon, reached the 405,000 miles before my mechanic convinced me that it wouldn't even survive another car wash. Both vehicle have given me my money's worth and then some.
You would think there would be some award for getting every last inch out of your vehicles. But sadly, no. I have yet to get a gold medal, a gold necklace, or even a mass-airflow sensor to replace the one that wore off its gold plating during its selfless service.
I still have hope for that trophy. My Tiburon has several thousand miles in her aging frame. Yes, I know that she doesn't look as sleek and sexy as the day that I bought her. And every time I fill her up with gas, I double her value. Still, she gets me to my destination ... mostly. And aside from her suddenly noticeable odd noises, my Tib is a joy to drive ... though warily.
Maybe I will get that award. Or, at least, a pay raise for a new car. Either way, I have a wonderful car. And AAA.
You would think there would be some award for getting every last inch out of your vehicles. But sadly, no. I have yet to get a gold medal, a gold necklace, or even a mass-airflow sensor to replace the one that wore off its gold plating during its selfless service.
I still have hope for that trophy. My Tiburon has several thousand miles in her aging frame. Yes, I know that she doesn't look as sleek and sexy as the day that I bought her. And every time I fill her up with gas, I double her value. Still, she gets me to my destination ... mostly. And aside from her suddenly noticeable odd noises, my Tib is a joy to drive ... though warily.
Maybe I will get that award. Or, at least, a pay raise for a new car. Either way, I have a wonderful car. And AAA.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
"The Monkeys" down by one.
Remember "The Monkeys"? Posters of the leader singer, Davey Jones, used to plaster the walls of my sisters' rooms along with Donnie Osmond and other Tigerbeat crooners.
Today, I learned that Davey died. How is that possible? Wasn't it just a few years ago that we were kids?
"I'm A Believer" that my days are passing faster than I care to admit. That "Last Train to Clarksville" will be here sooner than I want. Maybe the secret here is with not buying that train ticket. It's worth a try.
Anyway, R.I.P. Davy. Thanks for the songs and the silliness.
Today, I learned that Davey died. How is that possible? Wasn't it just a few years ago that we were kids?
"I'm A Believer" that my days are passing faster than I care to admit. That "Last Train to Clarksville" will be here sooner than I want. Maybe the secret here is with not buying that train ticket. It's worth a try.
Anyway, R.I.P. Davy. Thanks for the songs and the silliness.
OBX'ing
The Outer Banks are not financial institutions dangerously operating on the fringes of established banking procedures. No, the Outer Banks refer to beautiful coastal lands operating on the fringes of the North Carolina.
Of course, there are several money businesses operating in this tourist-filled area of the Tarheel state. These Outer Banks banks prove how well they count by operating with six windows and three tellers -- except during busy times when there is the streamlined efficiency of one teller.
(Side note: I realized that some of you feel a little childish saying, “Outer Banks banks”. So from now on, I will refer to the Outer Banks as OBX. If you want to rename money institutions residing on the coast as OBX BX, then go right ahead. I think you're being childish.)
While walking along the sun-drenched, sandy shores lined with laughing children and crazed sea gulls, people often experience tremendous personal insights. I don't know if it comes from being in the sun too long, from being around those obnoxious children, or from anxiety of walking under low-flying seagulls. Whatever the reason, several folks have had that life-changing revelation, "I'm not the person I used to be.” Then they follow this shocker with that stupefying realization, “So why should I keep paying his (her) debts?" Unfortunately, this moment of brilliance has led to many obx foreclosures, and to many people returning to Mother Nature to become daughters and sons of a beach.
Let's not worry about that for now. Enjoy yourself whether you are banking at the beach or beaching at the bank, and avoid the OBX fringe with its smiling kids and noisy birds.
Of course, there are several money businesses operating in this tourist-filled area of the Tarheel state. These Outer Banks banks prove how well they count by operating with six windows and three tellers -- except during busy times when there is the streamlined efficiency of one teller.
(Side note: I realized that some of you feel a little childish saying, “Outer Banks banks”. So from now on, I will refer to the Outer Banks as OBX. If you want to rename money institutions residing on the coast as OBX BX, then go right ahead. I think you're being childish.)
While walking along the sun-drenched, sandy shores lined with laughing children and crazed sea gulls, people often experience tremendous personal insights. I don't know if it comes from being in the sun too long, from being around those obnoxious children, or from anxiety of walking under low-flying seagulls. Whatever the reason, several folks have had that life-changing revelation, "I'm not the person I used to be.” Then they follow this shocker with that stupefying realization, “So why should I keep paying his (her) debts?" Unfortunately, this moment of brilliance has led to many obx foreclosures, and to many people returning to Mother Nature to become daughters and sons of a beach.
Let's not worry about that for now. Enjoy yourself whether you are banking at the beach or beaching at the bank, and avoid the OBX fringe with its smiling kids and noisy birds.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
it was a dark and stormy translation.
When you use Dragon Naturally Speaking (DNS) to dictate your thoughts in text, the idea is to not mumble or slur your words when speaking into the microphone.
You can see how this would be a problem for the great writers of our age. For example, Ernest Hemingway wrote some of his greatest works while drinking Mojitos. Obviously, his typewriter handle slurring speech quite well.
But that was then, and this is now: a new day of great technology and even better drinks. So how many potentially famous writers will go unrecognized this century because of DNS technology. After all, the translated slur of "it was a dark and stormy night" into “you was dark and Dorney night” does not lend itself to Pulitzer Prize winning works of literature.
I know what you are thinking. Lewis Carroll did rather well with Jabberwocky Naturally Speaking. But that was last millennium ...
You can see how this would be a problem for the great writers of our age. For example, Ernest Hemingway wrote some of his greatest works while drinking Mojitos. Obviously, his typewriter handle slurring speech quite well.
But that was then, and this is now: a new day of great technology and even better drinks. So how many potentially famous writers will go unrecognized this century because of DNS technology. After all, the translated slur of "it was a dark and stormy night" into “you was dark and Dorney night” does not lend itself to Pulitzer Prize winning works of literature.
I know what you are thinking. Lewis Carroll did rather well with Jabberwocky Naturally Speaking. But that was last millennium ...
word play
In Chapel Hill, North Carolina, they clean carpets. That is to say, they clean carpets in Chapel Hill, NC. Some love cleaning carpets in Chapel Hill, north of South Carolina. Others love carpet cleaning chapel hill nc.
Do people to clean chapels in Carpet Hill, North Carolina, or do they prefer clean hills in Chapel Carpet, NC?
Perhaps Carolina would rather hill a carpet in the North Chapel. Some say Carolina would rather be on the North Hill than on a clean carpet.
If you made it this far, wait till I get started on rugs in Nome Alaska.
Do people to clean chapels in Carpet Hill, North Carolina, or do they prefer clean hills in Chapel Carpet, NC?
Perhaps Carolina would rather hill a carpet in the North Chapel. Some say Carolina would rather be on the North Hill than on a clean carpet.
If you made it this far, wait till I get started on rugs in Nome Alaska.
Twilight and snoozing dawn.
I am not saying that "Twilight: Breaking Dawn" is a bad movie. However, I did have to wolf down a lot of coffee so I could stay awake enough to watch it. It was kind of like I had to become Count Chocolatte of vampires.
Monday, February 27, 2012
One Ring To Rule You All
If you are a young man with thoughts about getting married (or an older man who didn't learn his lesson the first few times), compare your situation to these two extremes of wedding rings.
At the one end, you have titanium: extremely strong, unyielding to the pressures in your life, always retaining its shape no matter what. However, if you succumb to that secondary effect of marriage – a slight expanse in your girth – that ring is never coming off your finger unless somebody cuts off your precious digit. This also means that, not only will any subsequent divorce cost you an arm and leg, the proceedings will cost you your finger as well. Nothing says commitment like titanium ... or a jump out of a plane.
On the other end, we have stainless steel jewelry. Those of you considering the prospects of the second marriage may find this more suited to your state of mind. Not only does a stainless steel ring meet the fashion requirement of “shiny”, it will bend more easily to the pressures of the day, and – more importantly – can be easily cut off from your finger in times of emergency (such as when you need your hand ready for the joys of bachelorhood in your later years.) Nothing says flexibility like stainless steel (or the promises of a politician).
So there you have it. On one hand, you give your heart, soul, mind, and body to your beloved. On the other hand, you get to keep that hand intact while you give everything as before.
I hope that my words have helped you. As you contemplate marriage, let me remind you it is not a good thing for a man live alone. But as a divorce man, let me add that the relief is incredible!
At the one end, you have titanium: extremely strong, unyielding to the pressures in your life, always retaining its shape no matter what. However, if you succumb to that secondary effect of marriage – a slight expanse in your girth – that ring is never coming off your finger unless somebody cuts off your precious digit. This also means that, not only will any subsequent divorce cost you an arm and leg, the proceedings will cost you your finger as well. Nothing says commitment like titanium ... or a jump out of a plane.
On the other end, we have stainless steel jewelry. Those of you considering the prospects of the second marriage may find this more suited to your state of mind. Not only does a stainless steel ring meet the fashion requirement of “shiny”, it will bend more easily to the pressures of the day, and – more importantly – can be easily cut off from your finger in times of emergency (such as when you need your hand ready for the joys of bachelorhood in your later years.) Nothing says flexibility like stainless steel (or the promises of a politician).
So there you have it. On one hand, you give your heart, soul, mind, and body to your beloved. On the other hand, you get to keep that hand intact while you give everything as before.
I hope that my words have helped you. As you contemplate marriage, let me remind you it is not a good thing for a man live alone. But as a divorce man, let me add that the relief is incredible!
Sunday, February 26, 2012
working write away
At work, I can take thin pieces of wire and tiny electronic components and solder them into complex battery-powered devices, or even works of art. That is what you can do after years of practice with a soldering iron, followed by more years with very little supervision during work hours. However, if someone asked me to build my exotic creations on a larger scale by using welding supplies, I’m pretty sure the result would be lots of singed hair, raging fires, and an inconvenient lawsuit.
That's about how I feel right now as I try to work on my writing skills. I learned the basics of putting words together into somewhat coherent sentences. But after years of very little supervision, I’ve developed bad habits and sloppy skills. Instead creating enjoyable prose, I might as well be trying to weld pieces of rusted metal together with toothpaste.
So for the past few weeks, I have been reading “how-to” books on grammar and composition. I’ve practiced as much as my full schedule will allow. What I need at this point is an editor - someone give me the guidance needed to develop my silly scribbles into a self-sustaining craft. Or, at least, someone with a arc welder to zap me whenever my motivation wanes.
That's about how I feel right now as I try to work on my writing skills. I learned the basics of putting words together into somewhat coherent sentences. But after years of very little supervision, I’ve developed bad habits and sloppy skills. Instead creating enjoyable prose, I might as well be trying to weld pieces of rusted metal together with toothpaste.
So for the past few weeks, I have been reading “how-to” books on grammar and composition. I’ve practiced as much as my full schedule will allow. What I need at this point is an editor - someone give me the guidance needed to develop my silly scribbles into a self-sustaining craft. Or, at least, someone with a arc welder to zap me whenever my motivation wanes.
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