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I’ve had better ideas…
Meanderings
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The world continues to amaze me (4/21/09)
Does anyone besides me find this to be more than just a little funny?
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Now this really freaks me out
I hit VH1.com tonight and this is what I saw on their top 10 list:
Uh, circa 1981. How the heck does that get into the top 10???
PS: Love the song, which is why I know what it is…
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It’s just one of those days
I went to publish a blog article this morning and received an access denied messaged. Hmm, that is strange, it worked the last time and I haven’t made any changes.
After opening a support case, and conversing back and forth for a bit, I happened to look down at my tool tray. Here is my response to the support folks regarding my issue:
I think I’m going back to bed – not sure I am qualified to be awake at this point in the day…
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Joke of the day: Feb 16th, 2009
The pastor asked if anyone in the congregation would like to express praise for answered prayers. A lady stood and walked to the podium. She said, "I have a praise. Two months ago, my husband Tom had a terrible bicycle wreck, and his scrotum was completely crushed. The pain was excruciating and the doctors didn't know if they could help him."
You could hear a muffled gasp from the men in the congregation as they imagined the pain that Tom must have experienced.
"Tom was unable to hold me or the children," she went on, "and every move caused him terrible pain. We prayed as the doctors performed a delicate operation, and it turned out they were able to piece together the crushed remnants of Tom's scrotum and wrap wire around it to hold it in place."
Again the men in the congregation were unnerved and squirmed uncomfortably as they imagined the horrible surgery performed on Tom.
"Now," she announced in a quavering voice, "thank the Lord Tom is out of the hospital, and the doctors say that with time his scrotum should recover completely."
All the men sighed with relief. The pastor rose and tentatively asked if anyone else had something to say.
A man stood up and walked slowly to the podium.
He said "I'm Tom." The entire congregation held its breath.
"I just want to tell my wife that the word is sternum."
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A moment in history
I was watching the History channel tonight and saw a show on the 761st Tank Battalion, which was the first all-Black tank battalion in the U.S. and a major contributor to the Allied efforts in World War II.
During the Battle of the Bulge, the 761st were engaged to support infantry troops. As one white solder put it:
"This tank showed up, and in the snow, the hatch opened and this black face popped up and he said, 'You all need some help?'"
And help they did provide.
I bring this up not because it is a race issue, in a time in which race was a tremendous issue, I mention it because of the tanker's comments.
Where else on Earth, but the southern United States, does God make men such as these - white, black, or other – who, in the midst of utter chaos, can ask such simple statements, in such a calm manner?
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Talk about frying your brain
I picked up my mail and was walking from my living room back into the office to put away a certificate I had received from Microsoft. As I headed to my bookcase, where I keep that kind of thing, my head touched one of the pull-chains for my ceiling fan and a spark emanated from my bald-spot.
I'm not totally sure if it was static electricity or if I was just thinking too much today.
Regardless, all is well. I do need a nap, but that's every day about this time…
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Thanks to Weather.com, my weekend is all planned out
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An ancient battle revisited
Back in 2001, when I moved into my house, I had a "roommate" who had a complete collection of furniture. All I had was a couch and a coffee table. One weekend, while attempting to gain some semblance of order in the house, I decided to move my couch out of the entry way and put it into the master bedroom, which had more than enough space.
The problem is my hallway is very narrow and the couch is very big. Not heavy, exactly, just wide and long.
My first attempted ended with the thermostat and smoke detector being forcibly removed from their wall locations.
The next attempt took over two hours, required the dismantling of half of the house and half of the couch and by some grace of God, the damn thing just popped in to the doorway. I was so exhausted I just curled up on the floor and took a nap.
I have always said that the only way I could remove the couch from the bedroom was to do it in pieces. Last night I was proven correct.
It started innocently enough; I just wanted to see if I could get it out of the bedroom. Then I let a little burr get up my butt and it became a mission. You should never get between a man and his mission. Trust me.
Anyway, again I dismantled half of the couch and half of the house but for the life of me, I could not figure out how to reverse the entry process.
After about an hour, I just got plain pissed off because the couch had started fighting back.
First it cut a chunk out of my finger with a staple.
Then it poked a hole in my wall.
Things were about to get ugly. In one final assault, the couch pinned by wrist against the door jamb, which resulted, I'm sure, in a slight fracture:
It's hard to tell, but that's my wrist and hand and it's not usually so round and puffy.
Since I actually like my neighbors and it was about 10:00pm, I decided against the chain saw. What a dumb-ass. Neighbors be damned…
I pulled out my hatchet and a hand saw and started doing a bit of surgery. After more than a little bit of banging, ripping, stomping, whining ( actually a lot of whining ), this is the result ( after removal from my bedroom ):
And that couch won't bother me again.
Next time, I'll try not to be so stupid as to get something of that size in there to start with.
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Quote of the Day: 1/27/2009
So I was having coffee with my friend Bruce Wittenberg this morning and was describing the events of my previous evening ( see next post ).
I mentioned something about being:
big, dumb, and stupid
to which Bruce replies:
Oh, a perfect storm.
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