Not right

Here's what's wrong with the NHL:
The Penguins have 19 wins and 9 losses. The Sharks have 18 wins and 10 losses.
The Penguins have won 68% of the games they've played.
The Sharks have won 64% of the games they've played.

However, the Sharks have 2 more points than the Penguins since the Sharks lost 4 games in overtime while the Penguins lost all their losses during regulation.

Really?

The Sharks deserve 1 more win worth of points because, when they lose more often than the Penguins, they manage to do it on OT?

There are a lot of reasons Americans don't like hockey, and this probably isn't one of them. But it makes we mad.

Another example, closer to my heart:
Thrashers - 14 wins, 10 losses (58% win percentage)
Boston Shiteatters - 13 wins, 13 losses (50% win percentage)
Both have 31 points.

Absolute crap...

Suck It Trebek Gary Bettman
Mike

PS. I used Penguins and Sharks in my first example since they have the most wins of all NHL teams. I honestly don't care too much about either team as long as they lose when they play against the Thrashers.

You can wiggle, you can dance...

Something I don't like:
When I use the restroom at the store and after washing my hands, use the Xlerator to dry them, the overpowered blast of air shoots water drops all over my crotch and when I leave the restroom, people think I got pee pee on my pants.

This is Darryl, and my other brother Darryl...

When we're out and about with the twins, I'm totally shocked by how often people ask if they are twins. Seriously? You can't tell? What do you think they are? Idiots.

Rather than let loose a string of obscenities at the obviously retarded questioner, Michelle and I have resorted to getting as much entertainment out of it as possible.

DUMBASS: Are those twins?
ME: Oh no, one is almost 2, but he's a midget.

STUPIDSHIT: Are those twins?
MICHELLE: No, they're actually 9 months apart. I didn't think you could get pregnant having sex in the maternity ward.

ASSMOUTH: Are they twins?
MICHELLE: No they're triplets.
ASSMOUTH: Oh, the third one's with someone else?
MICHELLE: No, he's right... (frantically) oh no!!! Oh no!! Someone stole my baby!

FARTKNOCKER: Are those twins?
ME: No, only one is a real baby, the other is a robot.
(One time I tried this the FARTKNOCKER actually replied, "No, seriously, are they twins?" Stupid...)

ASSYNUTS: Do twins run in your family?
MICHELLE: Well, my husband and I are twins.
ASSYNUTS: Really? That's amazing, you and your husband, both twins.
MICHELLE: Yeah. Our mommy was praying for twins and she done got 'em.

ANUSSNIFFER: Are they twins?
ME: I not really sure.

SCROTUMCHEESE: Are those twins?
MICHELLE: No, we bought one.

RABBITHUMPER: Are they twins?
MICHELLE: Huh? What the f.... how do these keep in my shopping cart?

BOOGEREATER: Are those twins?
ME: Are what twins?
BOOGEREATER: Those babies.
ME: What babies?

Got any ideas? Let me know.

S.I.T.

Give me money, please

Times are tough here at Meglo*Life. Just the other day I got an e-mail that told me to refrain from using the color printer, unless it absolutely necessary. Now I have to look at grayscale pictures of the miniature LEGO cities I printed. It's not very nice looking at all. At least I can still use the glossy paper.

At the same time, we kicked off the annual Ewe Knighted Weigh campaign. Even though the company's trying to save money, I understand the need to give, and I'm glad that the company encourages philanthropy. So far I've donated a sum of money equal to e ^(i*π) +1, which is quite a lot, when you consider that both, the number e, and the number π go on forever. Seriously, they do.

The company's really diligent about informing us about this opportunity to give. In the men's room in the area I work (one of at least twelve) there are 8 color printed 8.5" by 11" flyers telling me to donate. Since there are at least 24 bathrooms in total for both genders, does that mean that there are 192 color copies? (But I have to print black and white pictures of miniature LEGO Star Wars ships I found on the internet?!) And that doesn't count the color printouts in the halls. Or the other buildings Meglo*Life uses. Plus, someone had to hang them all up. Was his/her time donated. If they are an employee, did they stay late to get their regular work done? Were they hired to hang up the color printouts? Did Staples or Office Depot donate the color toner cartridges for the printing or do the printing for the campaign for free?

I wonder what the net effect of the campaign is when you figure in lost productivity and cost of materials, (including the glossy donators pamphlet proclaiming the biggest donors, "Gold Members" or something like that.)

I decided to donate my money to the Wall Street bailout instead. Well, actually, I didn't decide, someone else decided for me, and he probably doesn't even know as much as I know about finance (which is slightly more than e ^(i*π) +1), but he probably has gray hair, old balls, and a lot more money than me, so he must understand better than I.

Friday Five 12/07/07

Fortunately, Meglo*Life is a large enough company that I often overhear people saying stupid and/or funny things. Unfortunately though, I am also exposed to lots of idiots.

Five things I wish I could say to people at work, but I won't, based on past experiences.

1. As two women stop to chat in the middle of the hall:

"Hey, I have an idea for you?! Why don't you just stop to talk right in the middle of the hall? People love it when you get in their way! We really have nowhere else to go, and walking around your stupid asses helps us burn extra calories. You should get some kind of fitness-helper award. Hooray for you. Idiots."

2. As the elevator is about to close and someone (who is not handicap or 400 lbs) holds it up, only to get on to ride up one floor:

"Good thing the elevator is here for you, or else, how would you get your lethargic ass to your desk. Sloth nuts."

3. To the guy who cleverly backs his car into the 'Motorcycle only' parking spaces, narrowly missing other parked cars and two huge cement posts designed to prevent cars from parking there:

"Hey asshole, see those two huge cement posts and the sign that says 'Motorcycle parking only?' That means your crusty ass, 3 cyclinder, spray paint black and Bondo® gray colored, 1989 Toyota Celica, which must have a hole in the muffler, isn't supposed to park there, you inconsiderate, lazy shit."

4. To the lady who uses speaker phone to call, and talk to, her assistant (who sits 15 feet away):

"Here's a megaphone. Pinch your noise when you use it: Your grating voice isn't quite loud or annoying enough. I'm glad the world revolves around you. Seriously, your arm wattle is hot."

5. To the guy who walks across the building, (with a print out of a vague exhibit he asked me to fill out with ambiguous directions), to tell me a different number belongs in the "other" category:

"Oh I know it's wrong. I filled in the 'other' number wrong on purpose. I just wanted to see if you were stupid enough to: a.) print out the exhibit, write the correct numbers on it in ink, and walk over here instead of emailing it to me, and b.) too dumb to just fill in the correct number on an exhibit I couldn't care two donkey craps about. Guess what? You passed, you are truly a moron. I still can't figure out how you manage to get your pants on in the morning."

Someone once said I was sarcastic. Or did they say I was just a jerk?

The foley of technology part 2

My internet connection at home has been acting up for over a month now. I'm posting this from work. When I get the internet working again, I might post more.

Word to your mother.

Modern Times

Here's an exerpt from the wikipedia (known for it's lies and falsities) article on my home town, HomerSimpson, CT:


"HomerSimpson is a town in Litchfield County, Connecticut. The population was 3,494 at the 2000 census. HomerSimpson was named after HomerSimp, the Greek playwright who wrote the tragedy Al Gore. HomerSimpson is known for it's magestic forests, exotic wildlife and cool residents, such as Mike and Logan. "

While that bit has some misstatements, it's generally, true, especially the part about the forests. From my house, I can barely see the sky through the leafy canopy. For the most part, that's a good thing, as it adequately hides my stills and weapons of mass destruction. But, this past week, it proved to be a nuisance.

We pay Charter (the only game in town) about $5,328.97 a month for cable and high speed internet. It recently increased with the addition of HDTV service. Michelle seemed to think that the money would be better used to buy me a Martin D28 or something, so she looked into satellite service.

It looked like a great deal:
- 30 HD channels, not the measly 10 that Charter has
- 200+ channels, including Sport South, the channel showing the Thrashers games
- $60 savings per month, including phone and DLS internet.

They mailed us a DLS modem and I installed it fairly easily on Thursday, and we were going good. Friday they were scheduled to come and install the dish, and then bam!, I spend the entire summer inside watching high def sports. Sweet deal.

Then things went crappy.

Dish Network contracts out the installation of the dish. The tech was supposed to come between 8 AM and noon on Friday. At 8:30 AM, Michelle got a call that they'd be late, but there between noon and 1 PM. No big deal.

Noon, no tech. 1 PM, no tech. 2 PM, no tech. 3 PM, no tech. We hadn't heard anything from them, so Michelle started calling to see what was going on. She was on the phone (or on hold) with Dish Network and the installation contracters back and forth for 2 hours. Still no word on where the tech was and when he'd get to the house.

Then, at 5:05 PM, the phone rings. I answered it because Michelle was feeling the opposite of not pissed off.


GUY: Hi, This is John, the tech. I'm running late.

ME: No shit. I realized that when you didn't show up at 1.

ME: I realized it again when you didn't show up at 2.

ME: I realized it again when you didn't show up at 3.

ME: I realized it again when you didn't show up at 4.

ME: Then I realized it again when you didn't show up at 5.

GUY: Sorry, I had....(insert excuses I really don't care about here.) I'll be there soon.

ME: No, We're leaving at 5:30. Get here first thing tomorrow morning.

GUY: Um, the contractor has jobs scheduled for me tomorrow. You'd have to call them to get them to have me come out there tomorrow.

ME: You suck.


It wasn't exactly like that, but that's the gist of it.

So Michelle calls the contractor and they tell her that he called to say he would be late and that we were making the decision to cancel the scheduled install on Friday. She, nicely, pointed out that telling us he's running late 4 hours after he was supposed to be here is not our decision to cancel the scheduled installation. Then he told her they could not come Saturday, and would have to come out on Tuesday. She tells the guy he's an idiot and then we re-schedule for Tuesday morning, since "the job takes 5 hours," and we had to leave the house at noon on Saturday anyway, effectively not giving the tech enough time to do the entire install on Saturday, even if he could make it out then.

Pause: The job takes 5 hours?! So the monkeynuts was going to show up at 5:30 PM and stay until 10:30 PM climbing around our house? Funk that. Idiots...

So anyway, Michelle tells the contractor we'll let Dish Network know that they contract jobs out to morons, and we expect some sort of reconciliation for the inconvenience of having to talk to these buffoons. The guy tells her that Dish Network will likely oblige (i.e. He knows he's a dunce.)

Now fast forward to Tuesday.

At 8:07 AM, the tech arrives, and tests for an adequate signal reaching the house.

Can you guess what he said?





Can you?




We don't have an area on our house that will receive a direct enough signal. We could stick the dish on a 6' pole on the roof, and that might work, but a normal installation might be iffy. He's leery of installing everything to only find out it doesn't come in well. He wants us to get a second opinion, which means scheduling a different imbecile to come back at a different time.

Yeah...



Needless to say, I'm watching Charter cable tv tonight.

Koala Swimwear

I got some mail the other day. Besides fan mail, usually, my mail consists of bills (this kind of life is getting expensive, we know how to live baby...), beer brewing magazines, Toyfare, or junk for Logan. But the other day, I got this in the mail.



It's from Victoria's Secret, and it's for free panties, but it was addressed to me. So I went to Victoria's Secret to get my free panties. Hell, maybe Victoria's secret is that she has a penis just like I do.

So I go in and all the sales women avoid me at first. I'm sure caressing the nipples on the mannequin didn't help. After I showed them the free panty coupon, they seemed willing to help.

SALESLADY: What kind of panties would your wife like?

ME: My wife?

HER: Oh, I'm sorry. I saw you were wearing a wedding band and just assumed you were married.

ME: I am married.

HER: Well, then aren't you going to get her some panties?

ME: This is addressed to me. I'm here to get me some free panties.

HER: Uhh....I don't think it works that way.

(Her manager, also a women, comes over and askes if she can help.)

MANAGER: Can I help you sir?

ME: What size panty do you think I would wear?

MANAGER: Sir, sexual harassment is not tolerated here.

ME: What are you talking about? I got a coupon for free panties and I came to claim them.

MANAGER: Let me see that.

...

MANAGER: You must have purchased something here recently.

ME (as I begin to stroke mannequin nipples again): No. Never. I hate this store.

MANAGER: Then, I think it was a mistake that it was sent to you.

ME: So what? You're not going to honor it?

She looks at me puzzled.

ME: I need the number to a regional supervisor or something. And what's your name, expect to see this on channel 3's consumer protection news segment soon.

MANAGER: You can have the free panties. You pervert.


So, I'm a size XL. I only wore them once, though. You might think that I never meant to wear them, and I only did once out of principle, but that's not the case. I would have worn them all the time, I love free stuff. But they are very uncomfortable. I have to wear them backwards, or else I get man camel toe, but backwards, I get a constant wedgie. Stupid panties.

Office Shenanigans III

So there's this dude here who feels he needs to listen to his voice-mail on speaker phone. The more I get to know him, the more Dilbert-esque he becomes.

Anyway, rather than be polite and ask why he's such an inconsiderate idiot, I figured the best learning is through experience.

At lunch, I went to my car, got my cell phone and called his line when I knew he wasn't at his desk. I left him a message with just one word, "penis," which I repeatedly yelled as loud as I could for about 30 seconds. Since the phone network here at Meglo*Life works through a switchboard, it would be impossible for him to know who the call was from, other than that it was "an outside caller."

After lunch, he noticed his voice-mail light was on, so he hit the speaker phone button, and dialed up his voice-mail account. Sure enough, once he "hit the 1 key to hear new messages" the people in the surrounding cubicles got treated to a barrage of "penis" as loud as the phone could go, until he quickly picked up the receiver, thus turning off the speaker phone.

I want to call him again next week to see if he'll still listen to voice-mail on speaker phone.

More fun here, here, or here.

Pictures

Image Shack is giving me grief. WTF?!

I'll have to figure out what's going on. Then three'll be pictures again. Maybe, I'll have to have Blogger host them. Who knows?

Man, I have to get my own domain...

Freakin' Red Spoons!

I know I promised this Star Wars she-ite would end soon...and it will. I would be more careful if it weren't for all the other 80 million Star Wars freaks out there. In fact, I'm very self-conscious. I often think of many ways in which I am better than you.

"Nah...I'm just kidding. I love you guys." - Flexo (or at least, something he might say)

So I went to this Mexican restaurant and drank a few XX Lagers. Then I decided I needed more, so I go to the Super-duper market to get some beer since it was after 8 PM and only supermarkets sell beer that late in this stupid-ass state. While I ran through the aisles, I happened upon a bunch of cereal boxes that offer light-saber spoons.

I already have two red spoons, but would love a green or blue one (even if only to rub it into dMANb's face.)

So, with the approval of my master, Michelle, I purchased 4 boxes of cereal-2 for my nieces, and 2 for me, which, despite a promise I made (my fingers were crossed) I will never eat. I bought 2 Honey Smacks, 1 Crapple Jacks, and 1 Corn pops. We decided to give the Apple Jacks and 1 Honey Smacks to the girls.

I opened the other two right away. Crappola! 2 more red spoons. Poop on a stick!

Then we delivered the packages to the, albeit cute, ungrateful little beasts, and guess what...?

Katharine pulls out a GREEN light saber spoon. The little wench!

"Hey Katharine," I says, "I'll give you 2 red spoons for your measly 1 green one."

"No thanks," she answers. Then she adds, "I'm the only one with a green spoon." she even let the words linger in the air for a moment.

Damn children-too smart for their own good.

But I noticed she opened the Apple Jacks. Aha! It must be Apple Jacks that gives you the green spoon!

Finally, after about an hour of goodbyes, we left, and, again with my Master, Darth Michelle's permission, we return to Price Hopper, and I purchase the last box of Apple Jacks.

I run into the car eagerly awaiting my green light saber spoon. I can't wait to wave it into dMANb's face. Ha! I am the one true Jedi!

I pulled the box top open before I got to the car. Once inside, the suspense was killing me, and my master. She even said, "Hurry up, I want to see if it's green."

I deliberately slowly opened the packet to the spoon. I turned on the switch and connected the top. I pushed the button...

It was red!

F***in' Kellogg's assbags. (Sheesh! I almost swore in public...about a spoon!)

Anyway, I got home and drank 3 more beers, and decided to tell you about this.

Thanks for dinner AC.

I'm going to write Kellogg's a letter. Jerkynuts!