A Busy Congress

Whew! Watching Congress in action these last few days has left me breathless. In order to show they care about America, they've placed 2 items at the top of their agenda. We might expect one of these items to be healthcare for all Americans or improving our educational system (sadly, educational improvements did not take place before some of these yahoos made it to Congress). These issues are important, sure, but Congress has set its sights even higher.

First on the past week's agenda was Congress' concern for steroid use among professional athletes. They just don't think MLB has done enough to curtail steriod use. They had to step in and do something about it, or our American way of life would be threatened! C'mon - if discovering and using an unfair advantage isn't the American way, what the hell is?

The second major threat to our way of life is a person's right to die with dignity. I want to applaud President Bush and our Congress for rushing back to Washington at taxpayer expense to restore a feeding tube to a woman who has been brain-dead for 15 years! Now, everyone's got an opinion on this, so let's get serious for a moment: How many of you would want to continue living in the state that Terri Schiavo is in? Not me! I'm on vacation at the moment, but you can bet I'll be working on that living will as soon as I get back home!

We live in scary times, folks! Congress is feeling its oats. Who knows what they'll tackle next? Government ownership of the NHL? A rutabaga's right to live? Better keep an eye on your congresspeople. You've heard the motto "If it ain't broke, don't fix it?" Well, the new Congressional motto is: "We may not be able to fix it, but we can sure as hell screw it up better than you!"

Athletes Have All the Luck

I’ve been thinking about this whole steroid scandal and it pisses me off. Professional athletes have millions of dollars and fans all over the world. They get to play games for a living on national TV. Some of them even have women waiting for them everywhere they go (shhh, that’s supposed to be a secret, no thanks to Kobe). But is all of this enough? NO!

These athletes have another perk: Real scientists working in laboratories to provide them with the safest, finest, undetectable performance-enhancing substances in the world. Well, America, it’s time we stood up and demanded equal treatment from these labs! Where are the performance-enhancing drugs for the Average Joe? I’m talking about homework drugs, housework drugs, construction drugs, lawyering drugs (OK, maybe we could do without those), soldier drugs, secretary drugs, CEO drugs, creativity drugs!

Imagine the possibilities! Sure, there are street drugs which can temporarily help, but they can be dangerous – and they’re detectable. As Americans, we deserve equal consideration when it comes to artificial, untraceable means of performance enhancement! (Wiener drugs are a start, but they’re only for men, and by the time you need them you likely have a health condition which prevents you from using them.)

America needs help! Everyone needs to improve their performance! I urge all of you to write to the scientists at BALCO, your congress(wo)men and even the owners of sports franchises. It’s about time they gave something back to the fans who can barely afford a seat at a sporting event. Stand up and demand your right to high-quality, undetectable substances!

Yes, this is cheating, but let’s face it: We can’t all be the best in our professions. That’s why we should legalize performance-enhancing drugs! Why work to improve ourselves when there’s always going to be someone who’s better? I say take a pill, kick that person’s ass and be home for dinner, with a promotion and a pay raise!

No doubt, some of you will object. But how many of you buy tickets to professional sporting events and watch them on TV, knowing that some of the players are great only because they’re on steroids? You’ve already bought into the system and helped finance their habit! It’s time to stop enjoying these drugs vicariously and buy from the source!

I’m calling BALCO right now…damn, the number’s been disconnected. Maybe they should have created some scientist-enhancing drugs first!

What's Up with Sponge Bob?

Jeez, I don’t know how I missed this. After seeing references in Entertainment Weekly and on the Academy Awards, I had to track this story down. Apparently some conservative groups, such as Focus on Family and the American Family Association, have determined that Sponge Bob Square Pants is a homosexual – or at least, he promotes homosexuality. Several news agencies picked up the story.

I swear, some people have waaayyy too much time on their hands (like bloggers). But, in some ways I can see how folks might come to the conclusion that Sponge Bob is gay. All it takes is a little digging. Here are some of the indicators of Sponge Bob’s gayness:

• He views his world as a place of wonder and excitement – GAY!
• He has no desire to hurt anyone – GAY!
• He’s been known to hold hands with his best male friend – GAY! (I’m waiting for the AFA’s stance on football players holding hands in a ‘huddle.’)
• He’s kind, even to people who hate him – GAY!
• He’s being used in a video to promote tolerance of people with different backgrounds and lifestyles – SUPER GAY!

The gay community should be proud that national conservative groups have done their research and discovered these fine qualities in homosexuals. If it weren’t for the work of such organizations, we never would have known the truth!

I am a bit concerned, however, that other cartoon and children’s characters have been missed. Sure, they nailed Tinky Winky, but what about:

• Bugs Bunny: Wears women’s clothing, serenades and kisses Elmer Fudd.
• Foghorn Leghorn: A bachelor who never hooks up with any chickens.
• Rabbit from Winnie the Pooh: Lives alone and is obsessively tidy.
• The Pink Panther: He’s pink, for god’s sake!
• Baloo Bear: Hangs around with a half-naked boy in the jungle, also dresses as a female.

I could go on, but you get the idea. I guess we tend to see what we want in cartoon characters. Good thing it doesn’t apply to people, right?

The Sleepover

Oh. My. Gawd. I thought girls were supposed to be the quiet ones. I thought they were far better-behaved than boys. I’ve got news for you, folks!

My 10-year-old daughter is having her first-ever slumber party tonight in celebration of her birthday. While the girls are in the other room with my wife, arguing over which friggin’ episode of Gilligan’s Island Season 2 to watch (I think they just decided on the chicken people from Mars episode – a classic), I’m hanging out here in the ol’ home office.

I have to tell you – I grew up with 2 younger sisters who had slumber parties many times. But even having 2 sisters didn’t prepare me for the non-stop screaming, wrestling and mayhem that took place in my home tonight.

A couple of the girls, I knew were trouble. I really wasn’t sure what to expect from most of the others since I didn’t know them as well. It turned out that the 2 girls I expected to be shrinking violets were the loudest, most obnoxious ones of the bunch (more like shrieking violets). At their homes, screaming at the top of their lungs must be encouraged because there’s no way you develop pipes like those in a single day.

The 2 shriekers were also the ones jumping on the other girls and punching them. Not in a mean way, you understand. I figured out why they did it – they both have older brothers, so they’ve learned that a little rasslin’ is de rigueur. What they didn’t learn is that not all girls have older brothers and don’t enjoy being jumped on until later in life, and then they pretend to like it more often than not. But I digress.

I think that in general the girls are enjoying themselves. I know their parents are! Almost all the parents who came by to drop off their kid were headed out for an evening on the town. Heck, I don’t blame ‘em. The last time our daughter went to someone else's slumber party, we did the same thing! I told each parent when they arrived that I expected their daughters to have sleepovers and invite Allison, whether it was their birthday or not!

So, tonight I learned a few things:

1. Only serve caffeine-free beverages at slumber parties.
2. Check to see if the guests have older brothers before inviting them.
3. Demand quid pro quo from the other parents and teach your daughter how to scream and wrestle ahead of time.

Thank goodness most of this challenge is behind me now. My wife will get the little hellions...er...angels to sleep, and then I get to make pancakes in the morning. But I will no longer tolerate any screaming. The first adorable little girl that lets loose a piercing scream at breakfast is getting a face full of Aunt Jemima!

Job Fair Woes

Aaaaaaaugh! Sorry, I’m a little frustrated. You see, I’ve been working with a career counselor to make my job search more efficient and appealing to prospective employers. Because of the ever-widening gap (not working seems to be the reason for this) in my employment history, my counselor suggested that I go with a “functional” resume. For the uninitiated, a functional resume should always begin with the heading “I’m Desperate,” because the fact that you went functional is generally interpreted by hiring managers as “This Person Has Something to Hide.”

In theory, a functional resume is a good thing. Rather than list the jobs you’ve held with employment dates and responsibilities under each job (the usual), you spice things up by focusing on your skills and background up front and leave the employment history for last. The idea is that recruiters and managers will take a look at all the wonderful things you’ve done over the years and focus less on issues like gaps the size of Leon Spinks’.

So, today I walked in to the ballroom full of recruiters looking for talent and made my way over to the booth of a company I would like to work for. I smiled, turned on the charm and proceeded to explain to the woman who greeted me why I thought I would be a good fit for her company. So far, so good, until…

Her first question to me was “Have you gone to our website and posted your resume there?” I responded that I had not and was then told that creating a profile and posting my resume online was the first step. I wanted to ask why her company was participating in a career fair if they’re just going to smile, shake hands and refer people to their website, but I held my tongue. She barely scanned the first page, which contained all of my accomplishments, certifications and education.

Turning to the second page, Ms Recruiter noted (here’s the shocker) that I didn’t list any duties underneath the positions I’d held (this being a functional resume and all). Then, she suggested that when I visit the web site, I put something under each job to explain what I did! Well, all that information was right there on page one (again, I held my tongue), but I guess the format didn't convey the message I'd hoped for. So much for going “functional.”

I did find a bright spot, however. There were two people there from Dell: a woman who was sharing information about Dell’s new plant in NC and a man from Corporate who discussed Dell jobs on a national level. Both took their time with each candidate (which made for a long line, the only downside), whether they seemed like a fit or not. I remarked on this and thanked them both for treating us all like people, rather than cattle. Oh yeah, and I got a free Dell T-Shirt, woo-hoo!

Today was a good learning experience. The next time I see Ms Recruiter Lady at a career fair, she’ll be forced to continue the conversation when I affirm that my standard resume is online and fully accessible to her and her staff. I learned a few other things too, but if I share them with you, you might steal my technique, you filthy moocher (don't worry, it ain't workin' so good). Good luck to all you other job hunters out there, and to the companies with openings: Just gimme a chance - you won't be sorry and there's a free Dell T-Shirt in it for ya!

Snowmageddon

If you were in the Raleigh area yesterday, you witnessed the devastation that can occur when winter weather strikes. Businesses and schools closed early, creating an early rush hour in the midst of an unexpected snowfall. During the 3 mile, 45 minute trip to pick up my daughter from school I was glad to have 4WD and skill on my side.

Those less fortunate found themselves unable to pilot their SUVs, minivans, Mercedes and BMWs through the deluge. They slid every way imaginable, making it virtually impossible to get through (except for Mr. Winter Driving Pro here). Hundreds of elementary students spent the night at their schools because the buses couldn’t get through and neither could their parents (big kudos to the dedicated teachers who stayed with their kids!). Every major road and many of the lesser ones were choked off.

What caused all this chaos? The Weather Service described it as ‘almost a full inch of snow.’ Well, hell – now I understand! Not really, but it was fun to watch folks in their big ol’ SUVs and expensive cars staring wistfully at me as I wove around and through them to my destination. I would have stopped, honest, but there were too many to help and I knew the longer I hung around the worse it would get.

You’d think with snow in the forecast (flurries), the DOT would have at least put their salt truck fleet on alert. By the time they finally got out, it had stopped snowing and the damage was done. I guess they believed the weather forecast and didn’t feel any preparation was necessary. The other people to blame are the drivers. I’m sorry, but if you can’t drive in 1 inch of snow, you need to go back to driving school. We get that much at least 2-3 times every year!

I know all you Northerners are cracking up over this. One inch of snow up there is like a fly landing on your car.

My New Cover Letter

Dear Clueless,

I’ve spent the last year and a half sending my resume out and contacting people like you at companies with job openings in my field. During that time, I came to realize that you have no interest in my background or the fact that I was promoted to higher positions in every company at which I’ve worked. You’re more concerned that I haven’t worked in some time, so when you see the gap in my employment history you assume I’m useless.

This couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, I possess a quality which places me heads above the majority of people in the world: I’m tall. I call this quality “Altitudinal Supremacy.” According to the Bureau of Vertical Statistics, my height of 6’5” (as measured on the Stanley Powerlock Scale) places me far above average in terms of height worldwide.

My height offers numerous advantages:

• Ability to store items out of reach of most people and retrieve said items.
• Spying on cubicle neighbors.
• Huge presence on your company volleyball and basketball teams.
• Intimidation of enemies and underlings.
• Easy to pick out in a crowd.
  

Now that I’ve brought this to your attention, you may wish to retrieve my resume from the trash bin and un-crumple it. It took you three tries to get it in there in the first place. Please contact me to arrange an interview. I believe my chances will be ‘heightened’ when you see how I tower above the others!

Vertically yours,

N.C. Steve

Reggie's Cleats

In your mind, picture the worst football player you’ve ever seen. Now, think about the guy who was 3^rd on the depth chart behind the worst football player you’ve ever seen. That was me. You didn’t picture me in the first place because you never saw me in a real game.

The only reason I made the 9^th-grade team was so all the other guys, no matter how horrible they were could point to me and say “Hey Steve, you suck!” I even earned the nickname “Killer.” I think it’s because the whole team almost died laughing whenever I took the practice field.

But it wasn’t entirely my lack of speed and coordination that kept me down. It was cleats. Reggie’s cleats. Reggie was a great kid, blessed with mammoth size and coordination. I was about the same height as Reggie, but only half the width, which put me at a huge disadvantage whenever I went up against him in practice.

One day, the coaches decided to pit Reggie and me against each other in a little drill called “Root-Hog.” This drill involved 2 players taking their stance facing each other in a mud pit, the object being to move the other guy out of the pit (kinda like Sumo in pads). It required a fair amount of leg strength, which thankfully I had. Everyone figured Reggie was a lock, so this was my big chance to prove myself. The coach blew the whistle and we both dug in, locked shoulder pads and proceeded to push with all our might.

I surprised the coaches by hanging in there as long as I did, but couldn’t get enough traction to avoid the inevitable. As Reggie pushed, I slid backwards on my feet and eventually lost the match. From then on “Killer” kept the bench warm, never to realize his dream of becoming the next Willie Lanier.

I knew I deserved better. You see, it was only the 2^nd or 3^rd practice of the season and I hadn’t harassed my father enough for him to buy me a pair of football cleats! Tennis shoes are worthless in the mud, especially when you’re trying to move a 220-pound 9^th-grader out of the way. It’s even worse when he’s got cleats and you don’t.

9^th grade was my first, last and only time playing organized football, but I have no regrets. At the time I was in the marching band, so I knew I’d be on the field one way or another (cool uniform, no cleats required). Besides, band caused fewer injuries! But to this day I wonder if my football dreams would have been realized if it weren’t for Reggie’s cleats!

Winter Driving Tips

It’s time for everyone to work on their cursing and middle-finger deployment. Yes, you’re going to need these skills now that the winter driving season has started! But that’s not all. Being a capable winter driver requires actual driving skills, which ol’ Steve here is going to help y’all out with. Because cursing and gesturing alone won’t get you out of that snow bank.

I learned everything I know about winter driving from my father. He prided himself on being able to drive his car through a wintry hell (commonly known as “Missouri”) and passed his secrets on to me. Here are the basics:

1. Always have candles, blankets and rock salt in your car (for the people who don’t know how to drive and get stuck).
2. Never park your car on an icy slope, unless your car sucks and you need the insurance money (ok, that was mine).
3. Once you start spinning your wheels, you’re not going anywhere.
4. If conditions are dangerously slippery, begin applying the brakes about 6 blocks ahead of where you plan to stop.
5. Everyone else on the road in these conditions is a moron (see #1).

4-wheel drive, all-wheel drive and traction control were nonexistent on the old ’64 Chevy I learned to drive. That car had a special rear differential known as a ‘floating axle’ (at least that’s what my Dad called it), which allowed only one rear wheel to drive the car at a time. In this configuration, power was applied to whichever wheel was getting the least traction! Driving on ice was an adventure, to say the least.

Fortunately, the driving skills passed on to me by my father sunk in. There were many other lessons that didn’t stick with me, including how to get girls (or maybe he left that one out). Left to my own devices there, I watched most of my friends score while I dreamed of a certain cheerleader. Now, if I could go back in time, I think I’d prefer it the other way around. After all, being stuck with a cheerleader in a cold, desolate spot with candles and a blanket would’ve been a whole lot more fun!

In case you really care, the key to this whole winter driving thing is simple: Get a car with traction control! If you’re stuck with an older car, never, ever start spinning your wheels (see #3). When you need to go up a hill, make sure no other “morons” are in the vicinity and get a running start. And if you get stuck, hang in there – I’ll be by with the candles, blankets and salt in a bit…

The Annual Exercise in Futility

Update: Today there were 2 small sections of my lights out - brand new friggin' lights! I jiggled one and they came back, but the other section shall remain a permanent part of the display. The lighting gods are having a blast with me!

Every year around this time, Christmas lights throughout the world (or at least at my house) decide whether to continue living. This rule applies equally to new strands and those that are 10 years old.

But it’s not as simple as the lights are working or they’re not. Christmas lights have a special, built-in ‘tease factor,’ designed to remove every remaining molecule of Christmas Spirit from your body. There’s always that one strand that works perfectly when you plug it in to test it. Then, just after you’ve completed your hair-raising climb on the roof and risked life and limb to put them up, you climb down the ladder, congratulate yourself on getting back down alive and go plug the lights in. And what happens?

It’s never an entire strand. That would leave you the obvious solution of replacing it. But these lights are tricky! Only HALF the strand will light, and of COURSE it’s going to be the one in the middle where you nearly teetered off the roof trying to put it up! So, you move your ladder back into position, climb back up, nearly fall again and perform ‘Homeowner Troubleshooting Step #1.’ Homeowner Troubleshooting Step #1 is ‘Jiggle the damn thing.’ This rule is applied universally for every failing component of the home (one variation is the swift kick). It also precedes Step #2 (Unplug and plug it back in) and Step #3 (Read the instructions).

What HTS #1 accomplishes with Christmas lights is to cause a brief flicker – just enough to give you false hopes. And since you know the lights are plugged in and Step #3 must be avoided at all costs, you jiggle the strand again. If you’re on the ‘nice’ list, it may actually work. Apparently, MY name has been left off the nice list since I started putting up Christmas lights.

I had one strand that worked fine when I tested it. Then, thinking I would fool the system, I tested it again. AHA! The second time, it didn’t work. So I jiggled it a little (see HTS #1). Half the lights came on. When I jiggled again, all the lights came back on. Again, and the OTHER half went off. Again and, well you get the picture. But that wasn’t enough! Another strand was only half-lit, too! I suspected a fuse was the problem, so I replaced both fuses on the strand and…IT MADE ABSOLUTELY NO DIFFERENCE!

So, I skipped all the way to HTS #23a: Replace all the damn lights! I got all-new lights and all of them tested fine right out of the box. And you know what happened? After I put them up, a 2-foot section DIDN’T WORK! I guess these lights decided to give me a break because a few jiggles fixed the problem and it hasn’t happened since I installed them – yesterday.

But it’s still 2 ½ weeks ‘til Christmas and I’m not taking any chances - I’ve decided to hack the nice list!

Rats on the Barbie

It was a beautiful spring day and I went out to clean the gas grill so I could cook a few burgers and corn-on-the-cob. Following along was my faithful dog Peabo, a medium-sized mutt of indeterminate breed, though we suspected there was some kind of terrier or schnauzer in him. In fact, we used to have him trimmed in the schnauzer fashion, except in the places where he didn’t grow enough fur.

With my scraper, wire brush and Peabo by my side, I approached the grill. Lifting the lid, I was shocked to see a rat (yes, a real live one) perched on top of the grill - seemingly undisturbed by my interruption. Immediately, I closed the lid and began formulating a plan to rid the world of one more disgusting rat. Since I didn’t want to walk away and let the rat escape, I would have to make do with the only tools available: a scraper, a wire brush, and a gas grill.

Because I'm a guy and because I had fire at my disposal, I quickly discarded the scraper and brush in favor of frying that rat's ass! With the lid closed (folks, don’t try this at home!), I cranked up the gas and hit the ignition. WHOOSH! Flames leapt out of every ventilation hole and I knew I had that rat right where I wanted him – fried to a crisp! But that’s not what happened. Mr. Rat and two more of his pals found a way out (through the same ventilation holes), hit the ground and scattered.

I never even had a chance at those rats, they were moving so fast. But mild-mannered Peabo (who had never harmed a living thing in his life except for one very unfortunate frog) was suddenly transformed into the rats’ worst nightmare. Shortly after hitting the ground, one rat found himself being scooped up in the dog’s mouth, shaken and beaten to a pulp on the patio! By the time I got the rat away from Peabo, the other two had escaped, never to return.

Careful to avoid any contact with his mouth, I praised Peabo, rewarded him with a treat - and took the family out to eat!

Sadly, Peabo left us a year ago - just after Christmas. He piddled and pooped in our yard (and in our house on rare occasions) for 17 years! Peabo, wherever you are now, the rats are terrified!

Oh My God, The In-Laws Are Comin'

I just found out last night that almost all of my wife's family will be visiting for Thanksgiving. It's a really good thing I get along with them!

The bad thing is now I have to paint another friggin' room which we already painted 2 years ago, but my wife never really liked. Consequently, between griping, taping, painting, griping, job searching, griping and studying, I won't have much time for blogging.

Maybe after Thanksgiving I'll dish on the In-Laws (and sleep under the back porch? I don't think so!). Or maybe I'll tell the story of Peabo, the amazing rat dog!

Stay safe everyone - think to yourself 'WWSD' (what would Steve do?). Then do whatever the hell you want, 'cause I don't really care :).

Can I Punch You Now? Good!

Does anyone else wanna beat the crap out of that Verizon guy? You know, the one who shows up in the middle of your shower with a phone to his ear, saying “Can you hear me now?” The ads were funny at first, but now they’re just plain annoying. Kinda makes me miss Joe Isuzu.

Maybe I’m the only one, but to me this “Mr. Verizon” ranks right up there with the Energizer Bunny (I’ve got an M-80 with your name on it, bunnyman!). But moving beyond the annoyance factor, I’m even more disturbed by the underlying message: “No matter where you go, we will find you!”

I love technology. In fact, I was making a nice living in the field until I voluntarily left the BEST JOB I EVER HAD SO I CAN SITONMYASSALLDAYANDWRITETHISSTUPIDBLOG! Sorry - I lost control there for a sec.

Anyway, the promise of cellular technology companies is that you can be in touch no matter where you are. This sounds fantastic, but look at the other side. Imagine you’ve just gotten within camera range of an elusive moose. You move very carefully downwind, avoid snapping twigs, even alter your breathing to keep from spooking your quarry. Then all of a sudden this goofus steps out from behind a tree. “Can you hear me now?” I guarantee Verizon would be looking for a new spokesman, to appear in other remote places like Soho.

People, we don’t need a cell phone to hike in the mountains, go white-water rafting or get saddle-sore at the dude ranch. But someday the wireless companies will make it all possible! The only advantage to this is the ability to immediately call for help if you get in trouble. But that takes some of the excitement away, doesn’t it? If you know you can make a phone call and have a helicopter pick you up, doesn’t that kind-of ruin it? Even worse, your boss will know where to find you – and believe me, he will!

Here’s my advice: Find a remote location that absolutely no pager or phone signal can reach. Tape a brochure to your monitor and tell everyone at work you’re going there on vacation. Then enjoy your trip to Disney World, free of interruption! It’s safe, your kids will love it, and you won’t need a helicopter!

Oh yeah - and leave your cell phone at home.

To Vote or Not To Vote

I wanted to be funny today, but I couldn't figure out how to apply my warped humor to the subject matter. So if you want a laugh, re-read the Sunday comics or something...

I remember how proud I felt at the age of 18, when I made my first trip
to the voting booth. I couldn't even tell you who was on the ballot. I
was just exercising my right as a new voter to have some say in how the
government was run.

Back then, it seemed that Americans were united - not in support of a
particular candidate, but in their belief that voting was an important,
personal act. In school we learned about the democratic process and
the awesome freedom we had to choose our leaders and shape our own
laws.

Nowadays, political parties treat your vote as a means to an end
rather than the personal choice it's meant to be. In some cases, they
resort to pressure and intimidation to get people to vote their way.
Why? I'll give you 2 reasons: 1) They don't trust you to listen and
make an intelligent, informed decision and 2) They're more interested
in winning than in earning your respect and trust. This win-at-all-
costs mentality is hurting America - in business, in youth athletics and
especially politics.

It's no wonder that some Americans would choose to stay home on
election day. If they go to the polls, will they be pressured to vote a
certain way? Will they be ridiculed if they don't make the 'correct'
choice? How do they know their vote will be properly counted? It's much
easier and safer to avoid the hassle!

So, why vote? I'll tell you why: Your vote is the most powerful thing
in your possession! Every adult American has the same number of votes -
one. This doesn't seem like much, but can you think of another thing
that all Americans have in equal proportion? And if your vote doesn't
mean anything, why are the politicians and special interests spending
millions of dollars to win it?

I encourage all of you to vote on Tuesday. But first, think about
what's important to you. Listen to the candidates and vote for the ones
that best represent your values and beliefs. It's a simple concept.

Don't be a means to an end - be an American.

I'll Have the Turkey, Thanks

Here's what I heard on a New York talk radio station yesterday: "Stop smoking, or we'll buy your next 2 cartons of cigarettes!" Huh? The ad was for a product that supposedly gets people to quit. Does this make any sense to you? Seems to me they're really saying "If you can't stop smoking using our product, you don't deserve to live. Prove to us that you are such a loser and we'll pay to help turn your lungs into charcoal!"

I was outraged by this ad, but later got to thinking it's not a bad idea. Apply this principle to other vices and you might have something! Drug and alcohol rehab centers should offer the same guarantee. Why not give away a case of Jack Daniels or a few vials of crack to the people who can't kick these habits? If they really are hopeless cases, what else is going to cheer them up? Just take away their car keys and any weapons they may own, give 'em what they crave and send them on their way - to your divorcee's house!

Now, before I start getting death threats, let me say that I wrote the last paragraph to point out the ridiculousness of the smoking ad. I think putting free drugs and alcohol into the hands of addicts is totally wrong, with the exception of former mayors.

Oops, back to the smoking ad. I say 'cold turkey' is better - it's free, and you can always use the money you saved during your self-delusional attempt at kicking the habit to buy more cigarettes!

Note: For all you sticklers out there - No, I wasn't in New York. I was listening to Al Franken (think of a slimmer, funnier, left-wing Jewish Rush Limbaugh with thick glasses) on Air America Radio. The ad actually stated they would buy your cigarettes, then later mentioned they would send you $100 to buy cigarettes should their program not work for you.

They Got it All Wrong!

*Updated with new content - read it now or I'll send Leo Sayer to your house!

I hope those Red Sox are happy! They took from us the one thing we've been able to count on for 86 years! Throughout generations - wars, depressions, terrorists and bad '80's music - we've always counted on the Boston Red Sox. To lose.

People say the 'curse' has been lifted, but what happens now? The World Series is over and we have to move on, a little less sure of our world. There's no telling what negative effect this will have on us all - especially the folks in Boston. My thoughts are with you, Bostonians.

Speaking of Boston - or I should say NOT speaking of Boston...During FOX's coverage of the game last night, there were several 'cutaways' to a bar filled with Red Sox fans, drinking beer and cheering their team on. The only problem is that the bar was in New York! I guess there just weren't that many bars in Boston filled with Red Sox fans :).

My question is, if you're stupid enough to cut away to a bar in a town other than Boston during a Red Sox game, why in the world would you choose New York? Didn't the Yankees just lose in spectacular fashion to the Red Sox? And what self-respecting Boston fan would be caught anywhere near a New York bar to watch his team play?

Now, maybe you can see what I'm talking about with this curse thing. The ripple effect has begun...

*Update: Today I was informed that the reason FOX showed Boston fans in a NY bar (a sad day) was that alcohol sales were not permitted in Boston area bars. Yep - only drunken, out-of-control fans are good enough for FOX! It was a smart move on Boston's part - they got their most hard-core, partying fans to go wreak havoc in NYC (accomplishing what the Yankees themselves could not, heehee).

And the ripples continue...

Fried Banana Puddin'

You just can't beat the NC State Fair for down-home, artery-clogging edibles! Apparently, there's just not enough fat in most foods to satisfy the NC palate. In order to rectify this, we tend to dump whatever food is handy into the deep fat fryer. And guess what? It works!

Walking around the Fair yesterday, I recognized many of the favorites from previous years - fried dough, deep-fried twinkies and candy bars (you haven't lived until you've tried a Snickers bar fresh out of the fryer). These are very popular, but there were some new players in town this year. I'm not sure if the deep-fried cheeseburgers (really, I'm not kidding!) were new, but it was the first time I'd seen them.

My favorite new fair food was the Fried Banana Puddin'. This is a deep-fried banana served corn-dog style on a stick with a small cup of banana pudding for dipping. Or if you prefer, you can have your 'nanner' cut into chunks for easier handling. Either way, it's full of potassium! OK, it's mostly fat, but there is some potassium in there (not that anyone cares). I thought the 'FBP' was delicious and it got me to thinking about the possibilities. There must be hundreds of foods just waiting to be rediscovered as deep-fried delicacies!

Here are some ideas I had as my cholesterol spiked to an all-time high:

• Deep-fried apples with caramel sauce - My favorite idea. Just peel and core the apple, ok?
• Spaghetti with deep-fried meatballs - OK, maybe not.
• Deep-fried bagels with lox and/or cream cheese - Just to prove it can be done.
• Deep-fried pork ribs - Seems like this would be a huge hit in pig country!
• Deep-fried ham biscuits - I can't believe they haven't tried this. They sell thousands of ham biscuits at the fair!
• Deep-fried fudge - Hey, it worked for the Snickers bar!
• Deep-fried PBJ - OMG, this could be big!

I may even start a restaurant for families that hate their mom's or dad's cooking. Instead of eating another boring, tasteless, nutritional meal, pack it up and bring it to Steve's Fry-All! I'll dump it in the fryer and in minutes your family can enjoy the rich, fatty flavor that completely obliterates the original taste! And if you don't like it, I'll just throw in some bananas and open a can of pudding. That's what I call good eatin'!

Keeping Salaries In Line

Today I'm going behind the scenes to reveal the secrets of corporate performance appraisals. This information will help you understand why it's best to suck up to your boss, even when everyone else hates you!

Here's how the system works: 1-2 times a year, your HR department sends out the form managers will use to confuse and disappoint everyone but the very best brown-noser in your organization. The rating system looks something like this:

1 - Miracle Worker (MW): Performs miracles daily, including weekends and holidays.

2 - Miracle Potential (MP): Performs miracles occasionally and may hang around after hours.

3 - Average (A): Rarely if ever performs miracles and has a watch alarm set for quittin' time.

4 - Needs A Miracle (NM): It's a miracle if this person shows up for work.

There are more specific criteria, but you must arrive at an overall rating similar to one of the above. Simple, right? But try to be nice and submit all of your direct reports as MPs or higher - even if they really are - and you'll be laughed out of the review meetings.

When it comes to handing out ratings and raises, HR departments follow guidelines drawn up by drunken former congressional committee members. Their interpretation of performance data shows that Average workers make up the majority of the work force (60% or so), followed by Miracle Potential (25%) and Needs a Miracle (14.9999%). This means you can only have a Miracle Worker (.0001%) if there are at least 1,000,000 employees in your organization! In other words, pigs will fly in a frozen hell before you see an MW next to your name (unless it's a typo).

The problem with the system isn't the formula, however - it's the way companies contradict themselves when it comes to handing out the ratings. See if you can spot the inconsistencies in the following examples (if not, you were born to lead a company):

Company X claims to hire only the very best people. In order to accomplish this, they would need to hire Miracle Workers! Sounds good, right? But remember the formula - only 1 in a million can have this rating. This means that if you hire a Miracle Worker, you must also hire 600,000 As, 250,000 MPs and 149,999 NMs to make your numbers!

Company Z told their managers that they only want 1's and 2's working in their organization, so naturally all the managers had to be fired! Not really, but I think you can see the problem here. If you somehow manage to build a team consisting solely of MWs and MPs, you get to tell some of them they're Average and compensate them according to the A criteria. Since these people aren't stupid (the reason you hired them in the first place), they'll see through your poor attempt to spin the data according to the company line and immediately begin updating their resumes.

I think we've all learned a lesson here: Update your resume now! And if you somehow manage to score the evasive MW rating, let me know. I'll have 2 tickets to Flying Demon Pigs On Ice waiting for you at will-call!

Keep That Whistle In Your Pocket

I try to stay away from political stuff here, but a NY Times article caught my eye and I can't resist...

Who wouldn't want to go to work for Uncle Sam now? Losers and bleeding hearts - that's who! President Bush has made it clear: He won't tolerate further protections for federal employees who blow the whistle on their superiors and co-workers. Can you say party time?

Now, federal employees can do whatever they want and get paid for it. If someone blows the whistle, they will be punished and possibly fired! This is a can't-lose proposition, folks! Jump on the gravy train now because once the masses figure it out, all the good jobs will be taken.

I'm focusing my efforts on government agencies that waste the most money (unfortunately Halliburton doesn't count), because those folks know how to live it up. Of course, once I'm in I'll be happy to share my knowledge with you. Just send me a blank check - Uncle Sam and I need the money to dispose of all those $99 whistles!

Quote of the Day:
Last year the IRS said I owed $2000 in taxes, so I sent in a Black and Decker circular saw and told 'em to keep the change! -- Jay Leno

He Said, He Said

Shaq and Kobe have proven there's no playground big enough to separate them. They're on different coasts, for god's sake! Now they're fighting over who sleeps with strange women on the road and how best to ensure that these women stay quiet (They must've skipped that class at rookie orientation).

Our shock and outrage over the Kobe affair lasted almost a full 20 minutes. Bring the subject up now and people will say 'Yeah, that was shocking and outrageous! You wanna order Chinese for lunch?' But this Shaq/Kobe thing is escalating. It's not so much outrageous as it is, well, FUN!

It's entertaining to watch two supposedly grown men who can't manage to do what they regularly expect from women all over America: Shut the hell up! They can't even set an example! How are our young people ever going to learn to manipulate, deceive and quietly get some on the side with these morons as role models?

I'm hoping this one lasts awhile. Who needs to buy tickets to a game when you can watch all this fun for free? Just keep your own 'hush money' in the bank, sit back, relax and enjoy the feud!