Hazah! have a drink on me!

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Good morning! (Its morning here right now) what is your blood alchohol level? Not high enough? Mix a nice energy drink with something 100 proof and that may do the trick. Starbucks is for sissys and not being 3 sheets to the wind can be confusing for some people.

Quick! Act now! Drinks are on the house! Which (if I understand the saying correctly) implies they are free. What a jerk! What good are free drinks if I have to get a ladder and get them from on top of the house?

Drinking friend: I had such a great weekend! I totally blacked out and I don’t remember anything! Really? That’s considered a great time? Trying my best not to pass judgement here but I normally prefer to have the ability to recall why I had a great time.

Keep calm, have a good day, and have drink on me. (Just a saying you really can’t have a drink on me. Its weird and I prefer not to be used as a table)

What happens if while copying and pasting I wind up eating the paste?

You name it chances are good I may have tried my hand at selling it. Only recently have I decided to do some online marketing. For me the internet, using technology, dabbling in HTML coding, creating squeeze pages, copying and pasting is a natural choice since I am very acquainted with technology in general and how to use it.

When approaching a new business I truly have no problem “un-learning what I have learned” (yes thank you very much YODA) and it only makes sense to me to mimic what other successful people are doing. My first online marketing venture was with Project Payday. Once I got past my initial skepticism (you will notice I refer to this a lot) I placing ads and copying and pasting my heart out.

Despite all the “Proven” words to say, copy, and paste I found myself feeling very robotic ( I am NOT a robot I swear!) and stiff. I am doing all the things I am being told to do, posting all the words I should be posting, but seriously? It just does NOT sound like me in any way.

Ask anyone who has ever had a “real” conversation with me. Chances are good I am joking, having fun, making goofy comments, and almost never sounding like the ads I was posting. So I decided to join as many “work at home” internet business groups on Facebook as I could and just started messaging people, getting to know them, and having a real conversation instead of just pitching my thing.

The takeaway here is to BE YOURSELF. Its something I learned during my 18 years of call center customer service/sales/telemarketing experience. Even when there was a “script” for me to read I understood it was my job to breath life into it and the only way I could do that was to be my fun loving happy self while doing so.

MOVIE QUOTE JUMBLE

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Come with me if you want to live because there is no business like show business. Because only in Hollywood you don’t need roads because where we are going there are NO roads. Take the Gun and leave the cannoli because even though there is no place like home there truly no place like the Movies.

Movies give us a needed escape from life so you better get busy living or get busy dying and Movies can make you feel alive and can help you deal with death even if Stormtroopers just Killed your Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. You may want the truth but you cant handle the truth, the truth is far too boring and the movie version is always much better. The Hills are alive with the sound of music only because those hills have those iconic HOLLYWOOD letters standing on them. 

Say: I am Sparticus! All you want, but you would have to show me the money!! Oh? No money? No worries because Hollywood is genuine proof that if you build it they will come. This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill – the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill – you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes. Remember, all I’m offering is the truth – nothing more.

So what you want Mary? Should I give you the moon? NO I give you Hollywood, movies, and an escape. Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it. So go see a movie dang it. Look, No body puts baby in a corner and your hard earned dollars can help Baby buy some hair straightener. Her hair dresser says I am mad as hell and I am not going to take it anymore. Because with great power comes great responsibility and there is no greater responsibility than being in charge of those tight curls. 

Say what you want about the demise of the Hollywood Myth, all it needs is Bond, James Bond and he likes his martini’s shaken not stirred. All it takes to wake Hollywood up is  to give it a taste of Hanzo Steel. I didn’t say, sell me. I said, give me. Any movie nerd is obliged to assist you in the extermination of your vermin, Because your vermin, is a former student. And considering the student, I’d say you had a rather large obligation. 

So play it Sam, play that movie on the big screen. This is going to start of a beautiful friendship. I will be the movie geek with the Twizzlers and the chocolate covered raisins.

A (Parody) Letter to Mr. Phelps

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hamster (Photo credit: dgtecnozero)

Henry Horrible

Head HR Genius

Hamster Blam Technologies

5599 Hamster Wheel Drive

Hamster NV 98667

 

 

Mr. Barry Phelps

123 Fake Street

Fat Chance NV 98668

 

Dear Mr. Phelps

I hope this letter finds you well and in good spirits. How was your vacation? The reason you are receiving a letter from me is to inform you that your employment with Hamster Blam Technologies has been terminated, and that there is absolutely NO reason to report to work tomorrow. Normally in the past it has been Hamster Blam’s practice to wait until the Employee to show up to work, wait 2-3 awkward days until a opportune Friday, inform the  Employee he/she is scheduled for a meeting, use that time to pack the employees things in a plain cardboard box, and later broadcast the employee whimpering, crying, and urinating their own pants on the Company intranet after they have learned of the news.

 

Due to a recent change in management, the direction of the wind, a poorly played game of Old Maid, and HR policies we are now using this format to not only inform you of your termination with the company, but also share with you the specific reasons your are being terminated.

 

  • We viewed your pictures posted from vacation and well..UGH
  • The blog you posted about lighter side of Quantum Mechanics had us puzzled
  • You did not want to do the chicken dance at the last company Picnic
  • We find your choice of hair style perplexing
  • Squeaky shoes
  • Smelly egg salad sandwiches in your lunch
  • Your actually smarter than the rest of us
  • Your computer at work has a cat that looks like Hitler as a screen saver
  • You don’t know how to swim
  • Super Hero Underwear (don’t ask how we know)
  • The big boss finds you creepy
  • Our Morning Prayer to Devil Hamster gave us the inspiration
  • Thumb tacks in our eyebrows made us grumpy

 

Your possessions have been boxed up, and shipped to you via Red Neck shipping services and last we knew they were being used by a marooned bearded weirdo who has a valley ball named Wilson as a friend. We certainly hope your brief time at Hamster Blam Technologies has been a productive one and happy one.  

Give us a (awkward) hug

Hug Steve

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

Is it me? Or is there a younger, hipper, less emotionally damaged generation who is hell bent on hugging? Now mind you, I am not stating for the record that I am against hugs. They are great!… but only from a select few people I actually would like to receive one from. The approved hug list pretty much revolves family and close friends. Even then there are exceptions to the rules I have put in place as to who exactly I will and wont hug. Complete strangers are not totally of the question (like say: Sofía Vergara can hug me anytime she wants) it just has to go through my very complicated application process.

Don’t even get me started on “group hugs”. UGH no thanks, I would much rather be bitten by a Vampire covered in leaches being half eaten by a zombie killer shark from another planet. Then there is the completely random, UN-announced, so not expected hug. Yes it has happened to me, and can I say? I am not so much of a fan. Fist bump? Heck yeah! (and make it explode on the way out) hand shake? Yes! (I welcome a firm hand shake) but hugging is just something completely personal, in my personal space, and needs approval. (I will send you a application form to fill out)

A friend, and Pastor of mine is a hugger. I learned real quick to be hugged with our without my permission. I love God, and I love you sir, but can I just give you a handshake? Or a high five? At this point I want to invent a hug proof vest. (unless you are Sofía Vergara)

Skip the guilt, pass the mash-potatoes please

It’s the same thing every year. To the point where I truly have a love-hate relationship with my television and the programming it gives me. My wife and I don’t have any children so I guess having both internet and TV is like having kids (in a way). One minute your so disappointed in them (BAD! TV & INTERNET! BAD!) that you swear your going to kick them permanently out of your home, and next thing you know they bring you (where I actually mean me in this case) kittens, puppies, science fiction, and absolutely no signs of Miley Ray Cyrus twerking while smoking pot.

Local news and the demented newscasters who appear on TV are the absolute worst. Anyone who has to look good on camera, be heavyhearted because of today’s fresh hell of tragedies, then in a blink of an eye brighten up with a story of a penguin who is using its body to shelter homeless seal pups who ‘s mommy and daddy died has to have some personality and mental issues.

Once again, right on time the demented newscasters start with the “eating with moderation”, holiday diet, turkey can kill you, why mash-potatoes are dangerous, cranberry’s are really terrorists, gravy causes cancer, dressing is really an alien ploy to take over your mind, please please let us find every reason in the world for you to feel guilty for actually enjoying a meal with your loved ones (if you can).

Let’s just say we skip the guilt, and pass the mash-potatoes please. Not everybody has a home, not everybody has family to be with, and some even have to spend thanksgiving in the hospital, in prison, in another country defending your freedom to watch football or 24 hours of “A Christmas Story”. Let’s just be thankful for what blessings we have and remember despite all the efforts your momma’s sweet potato pie may be making to clog your arteries that there is always someone who is going through something you could never imagine.

Money Cat

Help control the evil money cat population. Have your Ceramic Possessed cat spayed or neutered

Help control the evil money cat population. Have your Ceramic Possessed cat spayed or neutered

Money Cat’s (sometimes called lucky cats, fortune cat, happy cat) are those freaky ceramic (I’m confused here, are they Japanese? Or Chinese?) battery operated pawing (Wikipedia claims its a beckoning motion) cats you see at the front counter when picking up your Chinese food. Am I the only one who fully expects a throw back buddy comedy-action movie starring Mel Gibson/Danny Glover? Wesley Snipes/Woody Harrelson? Woody Allen/Estelle Getty? When you say or read the very words: “Money Cat”?

Plain, and simple these things just freak me out to no end. Wikipedia may indeed be convinced that they are “beckoning” good fortune but I always make sure I have had my latest tetanus shot when I am any where near them. Who is to say ceramic battery operated (may possibly be possessed) kitty does not have metal Freddy Krueger claws? (Down cat! Down! I just want my sweet & sour chicken and egg rolls!)

AWWW.. Hello Kitty!

AWWW.. Hello Kitty!

Evil money cat could learn a thing or two from “Hello Kitty”. Now, there is a cat who is cute, welcoming, and apparently has more money than Barbie has dream houses. She’s everywhere, not just relocated to Chinese restaurants.

I want to rock and roll all night and Hello Kitty everyday

I want to rock and roll all night and Hello Kitty everyday

Kiss (the rock group, not the form of public affection) Hello Kitty? Yes..

Dr. Dre only wishes his headphones were this cool

Dr. Dre only wishes his headphones were this cool

Hello Kitty bling headphones? Yes.. Hello Kitty the flame thrower? Well.. ok there are scientists who are still working on that. So it just makes more sense to me that if your goal is to lure good fortune, money, and good luck your direction than you would want good fortune, money, good luck, and potential customers to say: “Hello Kitty!” and not want to run out in a panic.

Thank God I’m a confused City Boy (who lives in the country)

Cattle

The Cows Think my minivan is sexy

I was born, raised, and lived most of my life in a major metropolitan area. City boy is a good term and I am not sure at this point whether its something I need to be apologetic about or not. All I know is because I have lived “Up North” most of my life. Have had only a little exposure to farms, cows, hay, pick-up trucks (never owned or operated one in my life), living “Down South”, or in the “country”.

My lovely bride and I recently moved to the Southern portion of our great nation within the last month. I was fully warned (and then some) by my sister of the culture shock I may possibly experience. The pace is slower (unless your driving then you better pick up the speed or get ran over) and so is the speech pattern of most folk (I feel that’s an appropriate term). People like to talk to you randomly, are actually friendly, out going and this freaks out most of us city people who are convinced they are up to something (I personally blame movies like “Children Of The Corn” for this phenomenon).

We have highways, freeways, and outer-belts in the city. They are highly congested with cars, car exhaust, painfully slow little old men in hats (with their left blinker on), slow little old women (with their right blinker on), speed demon morons, four wheel snow driving pin heads, plenty of head aches and Road rage. They have “highways” (only because of the comparison I use the term loosely) in the country. They are certainly not as congested, have a tendency to have more cows, farms, men (and women) in overall’s, and a lot less Star Bucks, CVS’s, Fast food places, gas stations, and Mega-Big box stores every five feet.

My drive to work is more scenic now. I have less cars, people, and urban blight to gaze upon and more of God’s beauty. The stuff that confuses me is when I am driving (what my city saturated mind would consider) down a “country” road and then find a speed bump. Don’t ask me why my obviously snooty britches mind would not expect country folk to want to protect their school age (or otherwise) children (or crazy uncle Ed.. Bless his heart) from being plowed over by (well.. a plow) a John Deer tractor or Pick up truck going a bazillion miles and hour. My sister also blew my mind by telling me they have a transport service that actually can be arranged for the elderly, or disabled. So again I find myself feeling pretty crappy that I obviously am assuming that sunshine just got pumped down here. Pardon me folk’s, I am truly am a cityiot.

Its not over until the Fluffy person sings

Its the Candy Cops Charlie Brown!

Its the Candy Cops Charlie Brown!

A North Dakota woman says she’s giving out letters to children she believes are obese when they come to her door this Halloween. Bah Halloween hum bug lady. Who died and made you “candy cop”?!? Even if such thing as “candy cop” really existed Jean-Claude Van Damme would be much better as a time traveling Department Of Sugar Land Security agent with the mission to finally get the left and right twixt to reunite forces against overzealous nutritionists bent on making making everything taste like plaster board coated with paste.

I personally hate the terms “Fat”, “Obese” and don’t even get close to me with the term “Morbidly Obese”. Maybe it’s just me, but I can honestly feel the hate, neglect, lack of compassion and understanding just steaming off of them like a industrial complex happily chugging cancer causing smoke/exhaust into the air. I prefer the term “Fluffy”. Yes I am fluffy and I owe no one any apology of any kind for being so. I don’t need your well meaning advise, I don’t need a lecture on vegetables (how do you know I don’t eat vegetables? A salad? ), and I even though I am used to being called “Big Guy” I honestly think people really to think more about what they say before they say it.

Yes, I am quite aware that our nation is getting more overweight, but I am sorry this certainly does not give the media the right to do their obligatory fluffy mid section and posterior camera angles they are famous doing when doing a news story trying to convince everyone that fluffy people are ruining the world as we know it.

Larger airplane seats with arm rests that come up to give you even more room? Theater seats with arm rests that also lift and have cup holders? The return of the Twinkie and the raspberry zinger? Sugary cereal commercials with fully grown adults? The brilliant comedic shenanigans of John Candy? Jackie Gleason? Melissa McCarthy? Billy Gardell? Gabriel Iglesias? Ralphy May? Bruce Bruce? John Pinette? Ect? Your welcome skinny people, your welcome.

The Macho Man Vs The Sensitive Circus Clown

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One of my favorite bloggers touched on what exactly makes a man.. well manly? I have always rejected the square peg meets round hole stereo types, and notions. Mostly because I am willing to openly admit I don’t meet most of the what I personally feel are stupid notions. Men are tough, men don’t cry, men like being sweaty and dirty, men eat coal and crap diamonds, men are hunters, men hate hugging, men don’t show their feelings, men love fast cars and loose women, men wear beards (with no real offense meant to the real cast) and look like the cast of Duck Dynasty. The completely ridiculous Macho Man Randy Savage list goes on and on. Give me a break!

My older brother I feel certainly fits the bill of what I personally term a “Mans man”. He hunts, he owns and operates guns, he wears a lot of camouflage, rides a motorcycle, is moody, broody, and is more prone to punch you in the face or give you a hearty fist bump rather than give you a hug (just think of the uber-male that you see portrayed in a beer commercial and you get the idea) . Me on the other hand, I am not any of that at all. I (big surprise here) am more prone to be the sensitive hugging joker creative artistic clown who loves pretty flowers, puppy’s, and is easily distracted by laser lights and shiny objects. I love to wear colorful clothes, make my own accessories (necklaces, wrist bands), I am sorta obsessive about my clothes and how they match, have dyed my hair several colors, and yes I am thoroughly heterosexual without question because lets just say there are certain parts of the female anatomy that just send me into outer space.

This is not to say that I don’t have my moments as a typical guy (or husband). Even after being married for 25 years and knowing my wife for 30, I still have to remind myself that she really doesn’t want me to “fix” her problems (per say) but really just wants me to listen. Good luck ladies, guys are built to be builders, fixers, and problem solvers and anytime there is a chance to use tools, or duct tape we loose ourselves like a golden retriever looses itself over a tennis ball.

I guess my point here is to NEVER allow anyone, anywhere, for any reason try to pigeon hole you, control you, and tell you that you don’t fit the description of a Man or Woman. I tend not to trust public opinion because I never cared to do something just because “everyone is doing it”. In-fact, if anything I have always reserved the right to make my own mind at my own pace about my own life with no apologies for doing so. If you don’t like me or the way I do things then that is your problem not mine.