I sat at the eye doctor with my eyes dilated to the maximum. Waiting was an excuse to be creative. The attendant at first couldn’t believe I could see well enough to draw. He asked me what I was drawing. “An alien who accidentally took the wrong kind of laxative” was my off-the-cuff answer.
“Can I have it?”
I thought he was pranking me, but I could see by the look on his face that he was serious.
I handed him the card.
“This gives me an idea for a story,” he said.
I laughed and then realized I probably should explain my reaction.
“I’m not used to running into people like me.”
“People are generally tedious, aren’t they?”
He slipped the card in the front pocket of his scrubs.
I had better pictures of the eclipse this morning. But I like this one better because it cost me a little bit of my sanity trying to hold my camera still for 30 seconds to get it.
Evidently, saying “I’m gas-powered!” when you experience flatulence doesn’t pardon the act like you think it would. No more than always keeping a taller friend around to protect yourself from lightning is an acceptable safety measure. (Although it is effective.)
As for worry and regret, remember if you had done something truly catastrophic, a time traveler would have come back in time to stop you.
As for perversion, people in the medical field will tell you that you should never do anything that you might have to explain to a paramedic.
Most of us are just one insight away from being capable of profound change. The problem is that we’re too busy looking at our phones to experience life, followed by the silence that opens the door for new thoughts.
For those who have to endure meetings, jump up and shout, “Oh my God! I forgot!” And then run out of the room. No one will question you and you’ll have enough time to figure out an excuse by the time you come back.
If you’ve not seen the McDonald’s CEO eating a Big Arch burger, you’re missing out. It comes across exactly like Zuckerberg’s reptilian testimony a few years ago.
As I see people mock the McDonald’s CEO, it fascinates me. A lot of people aren’t aware of the critical defect in most larger organizations: hierarchal insulation.
People do not want to share bad news or criticism. The people with authority seldom get exposed to those on the ground doing the work. It’s filtered by successive layers of containment, each motivated by their own objectives.
Additionally, if you’re not familiar with The Abilene Paradox, you should look it up. Summed up, it explains why a group of people can end up deciding to go eat somewhere that no one really wants to go to. It results in Jessica being as pissed as everyone else.
That’s how you end up with a strange marketing video with the CEO coming across as alien and off-putting. The majority of people watching the video immediately recognize that something’s off. There’s no question multiple people at McDonald’s wanted to speak up. But they don’t have an institutional means of being heard.
Who in the McDonald’s corporation would dare question all the departments and people involved in the result? Much less the CEO.
The insulating factor of organizations is everywhere once you recognize it. Products that defy customer wants. Logos that look like someone dropped pixie sticks on the floor. (Studiously NOT mentioning Springdale’s from a few years ago.)
Our laws, which often ignore what most people want because committees have to come to an agreement, and often only because someone needs to pee really badly – or realize that no one’s going to get what they want. That’s how we ended up with the platypus, by the way.
If you haven’t seen the Big Arch commercial, I highly recommend it. It is the embodiment of what happens when a vocal cross-section of other people aren’t involved.
“The people who know have no say. And the people who have the say quite often don’t know.” – X
1) If you don’t want to fight, but simultaneously need to make the other guy look like a weakling, demand that any fight must be undertaken with both participants naked. 1a) If you are about to take off your shirt to start, take your pants off instead. It is a game-changer. 1b) If they insist when you’re not ready, ask them if they would like you to remove your hidden weapons. 2) You can diffuse a robbery, a challenge, or any personal confrontation simply by asking, “Are we about to kiss?”
The last one is particularly effective during meetings.
I’m so proud of President Trump. When he heard the inner voice calling him, he didn’t just lean into it, he gave himself head trauma and dived in. Not content with being a bad president, he chose instead to be the worst. That takes guts, at least 76 extra pounds of it. When your goal is to become synonymous with half the negative words in a thesaurus, you must be willing to surround yourself with like-minded people. Our president tirelessly turned over every rock to find the kind of people he wanted. You can’t surpass the dubious achievements of Mr. Mustache unless you’re willing to go the extra mile to beat up the homeless guy on the corner. I wish people would stop complaining about Trump. Even though he dodged military service, he’s adopted the old army slogan: Be All You Can Be. If you’re born an ass, it’s your obligation to be the best worst ass possible. As I hear the news each day, I nod with pride, knowing that he is proof that literally anyone can become president. No matter what your criminal record, whether you’ve abused people, or used an entire political apparatus to make yourself and your friends wealthy, you can aspire to be president.
Either way, you still have to go to work, and still pretend that we’re not being governed by the least qualified and most hateful president in our history. We didn’t choose bad. We chose the worst. And that’s the best testament to our broken democracy I can think of. He wants to return our country to the ideals of the Constitution as originally written. Stop complaining that you will have no rights or that you’re counted as a fraction of a person. It’s what the people who stole this country wanted. Trump proves everyday that he’s the man for the job.
X .
PS That is my wood panel hybrid picture of Zach Galifianakis/Jesus. It reminds me that no matter how hard we work to improve things, there’s always going to be an idiot intent on perverting our goals. And a lot of people who should know better standing behind him while he does it. .
The Campbell soup controversy is both fascinating and amusing.
I had a can of Campbell’s tortilla soup last night, with a can of Mexican tomatoes, sliced potatoes, and a ton of hot savory spice added. It was delicious.
I’ve worked in food facilities. Y’all are out there eating all sorts of things you don’t want to know about. If they are 3D printing chicken or beef, that’s fine with me. If they throw a horse leg in there, I don’t care about that either if I don’t know. Doubly so if it’s treated so that I won’t get sick.
I survived my childhood. My dad forced me to eat things that were featured in the Temu edition of National Geographic. Other than some observable brain damage, I survived. These symptoms allow me to either be the Secretary of Health and Human Services or the President.
The amusing part of it all is that an executive got caught with his pants down, spouting what we already know. I’d rather be eating oysters right now than working in the Campbell marketing department. (And oysters are just repackaged mucus.)
This story proves I don’t always get the last word, but I do often get the last laugh.
After work I went to the nearest inconvenience store to buy a lottery ticket.
(If you ask why I bother buying lottery tickets, it’s because they won’t give them to me at no charge. Duh.)
Anyway, I’m careful when I pull in to that particular store. Fellow visitors to this particular store sometimes display a disregard forcommon traffic laws. Such as driving blindfolded, for example.
I had to hit the brakes and come to a complete stop in order to avoid a car that tried to exceed the speed limit going in reverse as they backed out of the space adjacent to the building.
Someone behind me braked hard enough to cause a squeal. The driver hit the horn to announce the size of their genitals.
I pulled into the spot the reversing speed demon just left. The car that had almost hit me from behind raced up to park on my right.
I exited my little blue car and walked around the front. The man driving the car said something I didn’t understand.
“What?” Sometimes I’m really eloquent.
Asking him to repeat himself must have been a burden because he shook his head.
I expected something derogatory. And he probably meant it that way. He glanced along my car. “You’re so gay you can’t even drive STRAIGHT.”
While I’ve seen the phrase on social media, it fit the situation perfectly. Naturally I burst out laughing, which confused the guy.
His insult tickled me.
PS If I ever see him behind me again, of course I’ll do the logical thing and crash through the side of the building to avoid inconveniencing him.
My next door neighbor “Phillip” forgot about my cameras.
I turned on “Magic Mode,” a new feature for Wyze cameras. I didn’t read the tutorial about the new capabilities of my cameras. Evidently, the camera is magic due to its ability to see things as they are, instead of concealing what’s right in front of us.
Although “Phillip” rides a motorcycle most of the time, I realized that each year as fall deepens, the smell of cinnamon and pine seem to fill the air when he walks by. I hear strange bells at night. My cat Güino does too. His little ears are constantly pointing up and in the direction of the apartment next door.
You’ll note in the pictures that my Wyze cameras are now revealing an obvious fact: my next door neighbor is Santa.
He pulls a trailer behind his truck when he’s not riding his motorcycle. He’s not fooling anyone. That’s just a sleigh cleverly disguised.
To add insult to injury, take a look at what his huge red gift bag says: “Not Santa.” I bet if I ask him about that, he’ll say he’s being ironic and funny.
I fully expect that by the time December greets us, “Phillip’s” costume will morph into the red and white clothing of Santa that we all recognize and love.
I know “Phillip” won’t put me on the naughty list. Not because I don’t deserve it, but because my name is already there, so there’s no point duplicating the effort.
I’ll keep y’all updated.
PS The magic mode is truly magical for my cameras. (Also, you’ll note that FB has tried to tag these photos as AI. Santa has a powerful reach, doesn’t he?)
Random fact… This isn’t a hieroglyph. If you have a careful eye, you might see them in odd places. This one is supposed to mean “Do not climb.” Typically it’s placed on poles needing replacement.
Over time, I’ve concluded that many of these are nailed into poles that are, in fact, way easier to climb than normal poles.
I’ve ordered 535 of them. One for each member of Congress.
Somewhere right now, there’s a man shaking his head, wondering what the heck just happened. It’s that thought that makes this prank such a good one.
A couple of days ago I posted about remembering my mission to prank. Earlier today I wrote about a hybrid incident of anger and laughter.
Coincidentally, this one happened less than thirty feet away from the last one. Or is it fewer? Who cares.
I had a book under the front seat of my car since two days ago. I didn’t know when the opportunity would present itself for me to pull a fun prank on someone. By the way, the book was a good one, given to me by a friend.
There were two people standing at the Razorback bus stop on Appleby. I retrieved the book from under the seat, got out of the car, and looped around across the street. Luckily, both the man and the woman were still waiting when I appeared on the opposite side of the street. I pretended to be lost in thought, when in fact I was using my peripheral vision to determine when there might be no traffic coming at either direction.
With my book in hand, I waved enthusiastically across to the two people.
“Hey John,” I shouted. The man looked up at me as I darted across the street with the book held up. It’s important that you know that I don’t know this man and unless I accidentally guessed correctly, his name is definitely not John.
I lowered the book as I drew close to him, still trotting.
“Janice told me I would find you here. She wanted me to give you this book, the one you wanted to read.”
The man looked at me in surprise but he did hold his hand out instinctively when I tried to hand him the book. He took it from my hand.
Without looking at him again, I took off running through the bushes and then through the parking lot and out of sight.
I wish I could have witnessed how he reacted and what he told the woman he was with. Assuming she asked. They weren’t ‘together.’ They were just standing at the same bus stop.
He is no doubt wondering who John is, and maybe why Janice somehow knew that John would be at the bus stop. I hope he appreciates the fact that I added a little surprise and confused magic to his otherwise boring wait at the bus stop.
If he reads the book, it is a quick read and quite enjoyable. There’s my book review, if you needed an excuse to read this post.
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 