915. boss don discusses good project manager skills

boss don said, crane if you wanna become a top notch project manager some day, you'll need to seize responsibility for project failures and pass down responsibility for project successes. sometimes a bitter pill to swallow.
i said, but boss, you're a project manager and you do the complete opposite.
boss don said, i said that's what you do if you wanna be top notch, not promotable, dumbass.
i said, oh.

(from the files) 83. traditional values

when i hear people prattle on about traditional values, i wonder which good old day mores they want to perpetuate?
those when folks knew their traditional places and words like uppity, bitch and outside-agitator were reserved for those who didn't?

914. on becoming an actor

i think i'd like to be an actor.
but i have a lot working against me.
first and foremostest, i am way too inhibited, mostly due to a very dominant subconscious that is forever wondering out loud what everyone else is thinking of me (and nothin for nothin, my subconscious is of the completely half empty variety).
second and foremoster, i can't memorize a line to save my life, mostly because i'm so busy wrestling with "mr. completely half empty" that i can't focus on anything else.
besides, reciting lines seems so fake, like i'm just acting or something, which i guess is what i'm trying to do—a situation i have tagged the thespian's parodox (not that there is anything wrong with that).
third and foremost, i'm a notorious face maker but not of the lead acting ilk, more like a good crowd person.
yup, if you need someone in a mob making a major face, i'm your guy—as long as i'm not asked to shout something out like ... um ... "tally ho!" or "burn him at the stake!"
unfortuantely, i don't think there is much demand for the silent crowd type.

oh well, other than what i'd have to do, yeah, i'd like to be an actor.

913. keaton is silent

keaton is away this week.
she's in halifax, up in canada—same place pond fave lightly lives.
but that's not my point.
she's an hour ahead of me timewise, which means she is getting news way ahead of me (if they get news up there).
that makes me weak in our relationship.
but that's not my point either.
she's in a conference about "authentic leadership".
a very noble endeavor to me.
but when i didn't get my daily call from her, i got a little nervous.
so i sent her an email, knowing full well she is a blackberry junkie, making her accessible no matter what the conference rules might be.

i got a response.
thankfully.
she is not allowed to speak until after dinner—she'll explain later, when she can.

holy mackerels!
i don't know what to think.
i know this though.
what i'm thinking isn't something i'm quite prepared to share with anyone.

oh baby!

912. wings on a kia

as long as insurance is the engine of healthcare, no matter what obama does, it's akin to putting wings on a kia and expecting it to fly.

910. will jon and kate separate?

this is a question weighing heavy on the minds of many.
i would not be one of them—i barely know who jon and kate are.
i think they have 37 kids the same age.
smart tv people made it the stuff of a reality show.
now i'm not sure i know anyone else with 37 kids the same age.
i guess i live in a bubble of some sort because my experience is that there is nothing real about it.
but i'm willing to concede it might be a scourge in other parts of the country.

anyway, i just listened to "newscasters" discuss this pressing question as if its answer might weigh heavily on whether or not the iranian protests continue.

quite honestly, i don't wish jon and kate poorly, and hope this is just some sort of marketing ploy by those same smart tv people.
but frankly, i haven't seen a reality tv family yet that hasn't imploded by the stains of their own dirty laundry bared for all the public to see.
a season of fame almost always results in self-destruction.
it's what we the viewers seem to want too, after all, nicey nice is not how a voyeur hopes to be rewarded.
it's a shame really.
when will these families learn.

oh well, let the train wreck begin so we can move on to octomom.

907. the longest day and women

it's fast coming up to the longest day of the year, which always gets me thinking about how i like my women, distant yet ebullient.

yeah, i'm not sure what to make of it either.

906. the law of big numbers

i have been told i have a keen sense of humor.
i'm here to tell you, i don't have a sense of humor, and even if i did, there would be nothing keen about it.
i mean, come on.
have you read some of this drivel?

nope.
no sense of humor.
not a laughvoyant.
scent of humor?
maybe, after all farts can be funny if properly timed.
but sense of humor?
nada.

now what i do have a sense of is the law of big numbers.
if i write something with the intent of being particularly jocular, someone out there is bound to find it funny.
see?
the law of big numbers.
with a world population of 6.5+ billion people, there is bound to be a handful who are going to smile at this stuff.
the trick is finding them.

which brings me to the internets.
that's where you find them.
gotta love the google search and tricky seo smart tags.
it finds them.
eventually.

need an example?
well, like pam for instance.
she lives in rochester, new york for god's sake.
no one lives there on purpose, unless of course they lived in new jersey first.
and i have no idea what people from rochester laugh at.
probably jokes about people from new jersey if i had to guess.
but there she was, just waiting for something to make her laugh.
and thanks to the internets, i come along.
the law of big numbers my friends.

another example?
all right, take another unlikely sort.
he travels in internet circles under the name lightly.
he lives somewhere in western canada.
i think on a farm as best i can piece together.
the only people who live there are people who move out of rochester, new york, and certain parts of south africa.
what makes those folks laugh?
if i were a bettin' man i'd say frozen american jokes.
but i don't know any.
so what's the probability i'd find someone there who thinks i'm amusing.
four words.
the law of big numbers.
(five to perfectionists who have to count every word)
and thanks to a wayward google search, bingo!

need one more example do ya?
how about, itsmecissy.
a librarian type from san jose, california.
la la land.
the governator.
they laugh at san francisco.
but not itsmecissy.
she laughs at benny and andy and me for cryin' out loud.
what kind of nut job, i mean, one in a billion chance is that?
and why?
yup, the law of big numbers!

Yes indeedy.
sometimes i lean back, take a look at this posse of mine, and think, holy cow! what a group! thank you law of big numbers!.
and then i weep for an hour or so.

oh baby!

905. raindrops keep falling

what a glorious day it is.
dark, drizzled, dreadful.
a force of nature's will.

a slow day.
to embrace turtle paced thoughts.
to see with unopened eyes.
to feel cool grays touch.
to breathe without noise.

all, i suppose, so that i might hear the tears of a wounded earth fall.

904. liz story, where are you?

i've decided i need theme music for this blog.
i also decided i need someone to write and perform it, since i can do neither.
let's see.
something new agey and piano-ey.
yes.
and ... um ... hmmm ... i'm getting vibes that it would be good if it were by someone with initials l.s..
google searching.
gotta love the goog!
oh, what do you know.
one result.
oh my!
it's like a sign of some sort.
liz story.
of course!

the problem is i can't contact her or get within 100 yards of her.
part of a silly old court order.
nothing really.
they claimed it was stalking.
i claimed it was walking near her for three weeks by sheer happenstance.
a lot of something about a lot of nothing if you ask me.

anyway, i've lost track of her.
so if any of you know her, would you mind giving me her address, phone number and any pictures of her in a hot tub.

thanks!

in the meantime, i'm working on a little humming number i'll pipe in until i have a chance to hire my sweetest of ivory angels, lizzy.

900. depressed

i don't think there is any way around it.
i'm pretty sure my teeth are growing hair.
it was confirmed when my hair-cutter asked if i'd like a little taken off the incisors.
and now i'm getting hair balls.
keaton thinks i'm licking the dog.
i've confessed to her suspicions because i don't have the courage to tell her the real reason.
that would make me the only person i know to have sunk to such a lowly place.

it's only a matter of a few more expelled wads before keaton can stand no more and kicks me out on my furry choppers.

alas, that makes me depressed.
but in a funny way.
like a mullet on a molar.

894. starbucks thoughts

it never fails at starbucks.
i get starbuck thoughts—

uh oh, what's she doing?
she's going to the restroom and leaving her handbag and everything unguarded.
i could touch it without moving an inch.
she's gonna realize what she's done and suspect i took something because of my rather celebrated childhood life of crime.
damn!
what do i do now?
is there no rest for the reformed?
look innocent!
look innocent!
i know!
i'll feverishly type away on my laptop.
no, that's what someone would do if they stole something.
i've got it.
i'll keep the same pose i had when she got up.
what was i doing?
staring off in a tall, no fat, decaf latte stupor.
no wait, i was messing around with my cell phone.
geez, i don't know what i was doing.
oh no!
here she comes.
that was quick.
she probably rushed to get back in hopes of catching me.
sorry to disappoint missy!
okay, calm down.
look at her and smile.
no!
don't look at her.
drink some latte.
hmm ... what's she doing?
need to use my peripheral vision skills.
well that beats all get out!
she's just reading the book like she was before.
she didn't even touch her handbag.

you know, those kind of starbucks thoughts.

893. emails from the future

another email from the future.
this one from january 18, 2038!
apparently, i'll be too sexy for my 86 year old shirt.
the text: someone in your area is looking for a discreet no-strings hook up.

no-strings i can do, although ropes can be fun.
as for discreet?
i'm not what you call discreet smart.
so i told keaton about this.
she said, have a field day.
sounds like permission to me.
no discreet required now.

so it's booked in my yahoo calendar with an alert for a week before because god knows i'll need to be alerted by then, mostly for preparation.

i'm sending my snappy reply now.
her email name is princessfelicia69.

oh baby, that can't be her age.
i'm assuming there must be 68 others.

890. finally, the marriage commitment!

i know people have wondered about the commitment keaton and i have to each other.
i have seen it in their eyes.
where's the "till death do us part" part, their dismissive glances ask?

well, for those wondering, we've taken that next step in the grand steps of commitment.
we married!
this past weekend!
and oh baby, what an emotional rollercoaster it has been for me.

yes!
after a blissful seven years, we finally took the leap!
the leap of marrying our cd collections that is.
a small weekend affair, just as the musicians would have wanted it.

yes, my precious dave matthews collection is wedged between the likes of barry manalow and sarah mcclaughlin.
(nothin for nothin, but if that isn't commitment, i'm not sure i know what is, especially the manalow part.
in fact i'm tempted to buy a matchbox 182 cd (or whatever) just to squeeze in between.)
meanwhile, neil young still holds up the rear but is actually touching someone named suzanne vega.
and the unlikely pairings go on and on like an english rock ending.

now, as you might have guessed, the ceremony did not play without a few pauses and rewinds.
i even slept on the floor next to the newly nuptialed the first night, partly for them, mostly for me.

i still drop by unannounced just to see how the honeymoon is progressing, only to slip away quietly to jerk silent tears of painful joy—the waterfall of two musical tastes now shared as one forever.

a moment please.

oh my, this is tough!
but then so is commitment.

so dave and neil will just have to get over it, much like myself—soon.

889. benny thinks outside the box!

laughter

laughter is the sneezing fit of a mind allergic to the pomp and circumstance of orderly life.
and it is one allergy i have no intention of medicating anytime soon.

888. fox news: loud voice in a small closet

it was reported on the heels of obama's cairo speech by fox news anchor, bunny megan kelly, that he never mentioned terror, terrorism or terrorist.
her comrade, fox vice president bill sammon concurred as if something subversive was afoot.
and let me be clear, they are right.
he never used those words.
instead, he spoke bluntly and eloquently of "violent extremists" and left 9/11 conspiracy enthusiasts scratching their collective heads by stating the truth of those responsible—al qaeda.
apparently, "violent extremist" (or specifically, al qaeda) doesn't translate for fox news.
they don't know what the words mean.
if it's not terror it ain't worth fearin'.

give me an f'in break!

this is why fox is quickly becoming a loud voice in a small closet.
too little vocabularly and too much blonde.

887. the newest shortest novel

hemingway set the bar for writing the shortest novel.
six words (he claimed it was his best work).

"for sale: baby shoes, never worn."

not bad really.
i think i understand the plot but i'm waiting for the cliff notes to help me with the subtleties.

well after three years, i have finally finished an even shorter novel entitled, "an even shorter novel".
five words.

"my steak is overcooked!"
bang!

whereas hemingway's novel falls into the historical fiction genre, mine is of the true crime variety.
i too believe it to be my best to date, which is pretty good considering it's my first as well.

(from the files) 13. no more skinny dipping for me

i don’t skinny dip anymore.
two reasons really.
first, once the shrinkage factor takes effect, i might just as well be dangling an albino earthworm, and if you know anything about albino earthworms, they are a bass fave.
second, the sight of ample white buttocks breaking the surface as i emerge to get air makes keaton sea sick, even if she's on a dock at a lake.