Ten More Things I Learnt....

So my week has gone well. How are all of you? I had hoped to work an extra shift this week at the firehouse. But alas that failed to come through. You see, I am finding that I am way more productive there than at home. Mrs. T kicks the honey do list into overdrive when she knows I will be around for a few days. At work I ensure the equipment is up to speed, training is finished, and we are available for emergencies. Usually after 5pm ; pending calls, we are free to do our own thing. Even though I am at a busy house, it's easy to find quiet space to focus and be productive. Here are a few things that I learned this week....

1. A black man with a middle eastern name has a great chance of becoming President.
2. The guy at the Giants game on Monday with the Celtics hat turned backwards, is a dick. (Get off your cell phone prick boy and order, or get the fuck out of line!!!)
   
3. Walking twenty-five miles sucks a whole lot more than paying 4.25 for a gallon of gas. Thank Skid Jones for that little pearl.
4. If you drink enough, even a brain tumor doesn't stand a chance.
5. If you miss the last ferry home from San Francisco, a cab cost $120 to my house.
6. Hillary thinks there is O.T. and that she can kick a field goal and pull off a last second victory.
7. Twenty-one years of networking makes career expansion when you're older, a whole lot easier.
8. R Kelly really is a creep.
9. I'm old. Many of the students. . . sorry, correction. . .most of the students I will be teaching are younger than my son.
10. Arnold Schwarzenegger was a better actor than he is a Governor. As I recall he doesn't have a whole lot of thespian recognition. What next, are they going to elect a fucking wrestler?

See you all tomorrow. . .

Really, I'm full of it. . .No, really!!!

Last week another blogger described posting on the weekend. He compared it to being alone in the desert. You're all by yourself. You're walking around in a proverbial circle until you collapse from exhaustion and desperation. What the hell do I write about? What the fuck do I say?

That's where I find myself tonight. I've read other blogs. I've Googled ridicules shit for some off the wall inspiration. Shy of pounding my head on the keyboard, I don't know what else to do. I have spent a great deal of time talking shit. Usually that shit is at other peoples expense. Maybe I should spend some time fucking up my own shit. As you know, I have been talking about teaching. I have been putting quite a bit of thought into this whole thing. As exciting as I have convinced myself that it would be, I have also had my doubts.


Here's the thing, I'm no genius. Now let me elaborate. I'm not saying that I'm some sort of "softhead idiot". I'm smart. I can carry my own in most conversations. I'm just not really "brilliant". I've read some blogs that left me feeling. . . . completely lost. They are smartly written with deep thought provoking content. It makes me want to step away from the computer and go watch re-runs of Beavis and Butthead.

The strange thing is, most people that I know, think I'm some sort of super smart dude. I have common sense and I have a brain filled with; what I consider, useless shit. But the topper is....amazing poker face. To bad I can't play the fucking game! I'd be a millionaire. Anyway, this is where I call bullshit on myself. I can be really phony. Here is an example, I've had conversations where a $10 word gets thrown into the mix. I'll tell you what I don't do. . . . I don't say " excuse me but what is a deuteragonist*"? Rather I'd spout of something like "well he's certainly no deusexmachina**"! So, people have come to think that I am a person endowed with some sort of mental superiority. Fact is, much of the time I'm just full of shit! For fucks sake I didn't know what convoluted meant until about three months ago. Amazing what you can learn by picking up a dictionary!

So, now this whole teaching dilemma. Yes I know my shit when it comes to my job. But the act of teaching seems kind of daunting. Maybe I just fear that some little pencil neck brain-i-ack mother fucker is going to see right through me. Game over! Thanks for playing! That would suck. Is my ego to frail? I'm not really sure.

You know, talking shit about myself isn't as fun as I thought it would be.

Hhhhmmmmmmmmm........


Is it just me, or is this some sort of "Mormon Robert Palmer Video"? These crazy bitches scare the shit out of me!

Aaaahhhhhhhhh....... that feels better.


*&** Yes, I used a dictionary. Thank you Mr. Webster.

The Female Mind

As indicated by my very brief post two days ago, I have had ten or so days of hell. I had every intention of writing about my miserable week and a half. I wanted to rant. I wanted to scream at the top of my friggen lungs. I was simply waiting for time. When the time came, I was going to puke my rage out onto the pages of my blog. One huge misery purge.

Then, the time came. Low and behold. . . . . I didn't feel like spewing all of this shit out! I've gotten over most of it and the rest I'm trying to let go of. But that still leaves the blog. So instead of doing a bullet point rant of all this crap, I am instead going to write about an observation I made last week.

On "Good Friday" Mrs. Titus began to feel like crap. This continued for several days. On Monday I had the day off from work. While she slept in I got up from bed and started doing shit around the house. Here is a brief list.

• I emptied the dishwasher.
• I filled the dishwasher and ran the load.
• I took Grandma to her doctors appointment.
• I took Grandma to her lab appointment.
• I went to the pharmacy to get Grandmas medicine.
• I went home and emptied the dishwasher.
• I folded the cloths in the dryer.
• I did two more loads of cloths and folded them as well.
• While in the process of vacuuming the house (including the stairs from hell), Mrs. Titus wakes up and the following conversation and event transpire. . .

Me: Hi Honey. How are you feeling?

Her: Like crap. Can you make me a tuna sandwich?

Me: Sure I can. Do you want chips with that?

Her: No, just the sandwich. . . thanks.

Me: No problem, you just lay down. I've got everything under control around here.

So I proceed to make us tuna fish sandwiches. Rather than stay in bed, she chooses to come down stairs and eat at the table. Now let me remind you, the house is DIALED IN!!!!! I bring her her sandwich. She takes ONE bite and says. . . .

Her: There is way to much tuna on this sandwich and you also used to much Dijon. I knew it! You just don't love me anymore!

Me:?

Women often say that men are babies when we're sick. For the most part, I agree. But, after having the flu I have never gotten out of bed and discovered. . .

• The oil had been changed in All of the cars, and the Harley.
• The lawn is mowed
• The plants and bushes are trimmed and fertilized.
• The cars are washed and gassed up.

you get the picture. . .

See I don't expect that. But believe me If that happened, the last thing I would say is. . .

Me: Honey, you are a heartless bitch. You fucked up my lunch!

Help me out here. Am I off base? WTF

Happy "OK" Friday

Good Friday, is the Friday preceding Easter Sunday. It commemorates the crucifixion and death of Jesus at Calvary. Apparently, that is today. I have to ask the question. What's so good about it? If your Catholic and need to recognize that date that your "saviour" was murdered, why for fucks sake would you call it "good"? I mean really shouldn't it be "not so good Friday" or "this sucks Friday"? What half witted apostle or convertee said "Hey!!!! It's Friday, the weather is great, the Romans haven't fucked with me today, and Jesus is dead. Shit two out of three ain't bad. All in all it's a pretty good Friday.

Frankly, the title is a bit out dated. Personally I think most Fridays are good. Hell, if the holidays fall right and create a three or four day weekend, then you have a good Thursday and or good Monday. Come to think of it, I was in Vegas once and had a good Wednesday. . . .but that's another story.

So before I get to far off track, here's my thought.

"Pope guy, you need to make a few changes within your organization. Name your days more accurately".

1. Don't eat meat day


2. Get a spot on your head day


3. Give up something you like week


4. Find the egg day


5. Give shit away day


6. Miss football day

Be honest, call it like it is. Once you get that done we can work on your N.M.B.L.A problem. Until then, best of luck. Excuse me, I have a rib eye to cook. . .

Jake

Shock and. . . . .Awe Shit!!!

It's been five years. As you can imagine my new co-workers hold a much different opinion of this war than I do.

Which is really kind of funny when I think about it. I am the only liberal at the new "Branch". I am the only individual opposed to this whole fucking fiasco. But when we were all younger and. . .

They were doing this. . .

I was doing this.

It's so ironic that many of the folks that are pro-war, never wore a uniform in defense of this country. Although they would never admit it, they feel that kids from here should fight this war.

Not kids from here.

Five years ago under, the false guise of weapons of mass destruction, he led us into a terrible conflict that the world may never recover from. He talked of the tyrant that oppressed, maimed, and killed his people. But even removing him from power hasn't ended the conflict.

Was it really about him?

Was it really about these?

No, I think it was about this. . .

So folks, if you really care about this country, our troops, and being true patriots then quit driving these. . .

Which will reduce your need to go here. . .

And maybe, just maybe. . .

Well all get to see more of this.


PEACE!!!

Step off before I go off!!!

Well it's day one at the new "Branch". So far so good. The new co-workers were fairly welcoming this morning. Although I did get the "this is how we do it here" speech. The knuckle head that was here before has not taken any of his shit away yet. Kind of hard to get settled when all of my shit is still in boxes in my car. So I'm realizing that I have one of two paths to choose from. First, I can wallow in my misery and hate each day here. Option number two is to attempt optimism and wait out my time until a transfer becomes available. Against my better judgement I've chosen number two. I hope It's the right decision *crossed fingers*. So I'm going to give it a few weeks before I start ranting.

That being said, let's move on. . .

Yesterday I stopped at the grocery store to shop for dinner. It was not a huge shopping excursion just enough that I used a hand held basket. At the check out counter they have a small shelf for customers to place the plastic basket when it is there turn. So as is common practice when it's my turn to have my groceries rung up, I place my basket on the shelf. That's when it happens. This lady behind me is a total space invader. For fucks sake lady can you get any closer to me? Will you check my prostate while your up my ass? Why do people do this? I'm at the little counter where people can write a check or do whatever, and she is 10" to my right. That's no exaggeration!!!! This isn't the first time either. I'm noticing this more often. People are in such a damn rush that they are trying to push the rest of us along at their pace. Slow down people!!!! Back the fuck up!!! I shop at my pace, I drive at my pace, and I use the ATM at my frigging pace.

O.K. that feels better. . .

Jake

It's right around the corner. . .

"Nuukelur"

Thank god for term limits. Three hundred and twenty some odd days and it's over! This morning there was a headline on Yahoo News that said "Bush fighting for more intelligence in Washington." Fearing that a real serious story existed behind the headline, I chose not to read any farther. I have instead, just enjoyed the headline itself.

Now I'm no political genius. But what other options exist?

This guy?

The war is over, let it go!

This guy? Are you fucking kidding me?

How about. . . . . this guy?

Hey Ralphie Boy. Thanks for the whole seat belt thing. Now, piss off before you fuck us AGAIN!!!!

Oh! I know! This guy? No Rudy your balls aren't that big. Your a politician of circumstance.

Well what about him?
O.K. were getting there. Dude will you please vote on something, anything? Walk it don't just talk it. So far you've got my vote. But take a stance or I'm voting for this guy. . . .

At least he is telling me up front that I'm going to get Dycked!!!

Truth In Advertising

At the bar the other night I noticed the sales pitch for Souza Tequila. There motto is drink Souza and "get lost". It's refreshing to see some truth in advertising. I have been "lost" and drunk on "cactus juice" way to many times. Maybe some other advertisers should learn from the honest folks at Souza.

1. "Your wallet is in good hands, with Allstate."
2. "United Airlines, because you’re only other option is Greyhound. Now sit down and shut the fuck up!"
3. "Let's face it, your wife is ugly. So for you, it’s Viagra."
4. "Budweiser, the king of beers you cheap motherfucker."
5. "You need Enzyte. Because the mailman as a bigger dick than you."
6. "Ford Trucks, we'll see you at the shop, bring your checkbook."
7. "The US Army, an Army of One, because everyone else you grew up with went to college."
8. "If you want to waste six hours on the weekend and pull your hair out at the root, come to the Home Depot."
9. "Nascar, yes it's retarded but it's O.K. to watch it for the crashes."

Gee, I could go on like this all day.
Jake

Is humor the best medicine? It hurts to laugh.

I love my job. I love the guys I work with. In the last 72 hours, thirteen were underhandedly forced into retirement. I'm devastated. For three days I've seen grown men/friends cry. I've cried. It fucking sucks! So, I need to try to write something humorous to prevent sinking into a real bad place.

Yesterday my wife and I went shopping at the local Whole Foods store. While shopping I came across "Hemp Granola Cereal". I swear to god this shit exists. The box even sports a big pot leaf. I wonder; if you’re not hungry, can you roll it and smoke it?

Because I was having such a shitty day, my wife surprised me. When we got home from shopping, she made up a steaming hot bath for me to soak in and have a beer. While at the store she had picked up some foo foo aroma therapy bath salts. So as I'm soaking in the tub having a brew, I found myself reading the salt container. Would you believe they advertise it as "organic salt"? WTF!!!! O.K. organic beef . . . no additives, I get it. Organic milk . . . no additives, I get it. Organic veggies. . . .I fucking get it. But what the hell is organic salt? Are you fucking kidding me? What, does the salt farmer not put steroids and hormones in the god damned dirt? I'm starting to think "organic" is French for "your an idiot, give me your money"!

Talk to you later.
Jake

"Father Flannigan I can't practice today, I forgot my shorts."

Let me preface this post with "I was born into the catholic faith". Yet, I feel Catholicism is kind of a funny (not ha ha, but strange) thing. Your hear people say “I’m a practicing catholic”. What the hell does that mean? I interpret practicing as “oops I fucked up, let me try that again!”, “shit I did it again, father forgive me.” “Mother Mary full of grace please forgive me for jerkin’ off to mamasgotmelons.com, I’ll never do it again.” I mean really, most all of the Catholics I know break the friggen' rules everyday, intentionally, and without guilt (until Sunday rolls around). I guess they aren’t lying when they says it’s just PRACTICE. Queue the Allen Iverson press conference. “We’re talking about practice!” Sorry, I digress. Shouldn't they be saying “I’m Catholic and I’m on my game?"Shit, I don’t know where the hell I’m going with this! I’ve read two recent posts on other blogs that bring up lent.

http://exeverything.blogspot.com/2008/02/hast-thou-not-poured-me-out-as-milk-and.html

http://sassyblondie.blogspot.com/2008/02/givin-it-up.html

Since I don’t practice Catholicism and don’t consider myself to be in the “game”, I can’t really relate to the rules/traditions of it all and this “giving up” stuff. But, for the sake of this post and the spirit of lent, I will make the following promise to "give up".

I promise to give up the following habits while sitting in church.

1. Smoking a Cohiba.
2. Drinking Patron straight from the bottle. Even though mixing it is a sin!
3. Reading Dan Brown books.
4. Visiting mamasgotmelons.com on my iphone.
5. Singing a hymns that starts with "duck duck bo buck banana fanna foe. . . ."
6. Asking people next to me if catholic girls are really that bad.

But only for forty days. . . . . . . .
Jake

My bad!

So it started about eighteen or so years ago when I was in college down in L.A. I lived just off of the USC campus which if you don't know, is a complete shit hole. (Frequently) At least ten times a day homeless people would ask me for money. First of all I was a student, and money was something I had little of. Second, I knew that they would probably go and use the money for anything but food. So, I got in the habit of asking them if I could buy them something to eat rather than hand out cash. Many of them declined the offer (I was right about there intentions). Surprisingly, some of them would happily take me up on my offer. In the 80’s, two to three bucks could go along away at a road side taco stand. As the years have gone buy, I have made attempts to continue this practice. Over the last year or so, a homeless woman regularly sits outside of the grocery store where I shop. I have made it a habit to buy a sandwich, fruit, etc . . . when I would see her. A co-worker of mine liked the idea so much that he started feeding her as well. Then, a couple of weeks ago I was in line at a different store in the area. Well, this woman was in front of me in line with a fifth of cheap rock gut gin. Just prior to getting to the checker, she noticed me behind her. She was obviously mortified. She made her purchase and scurried off. Now I have to be honest. I have been pretty pissed about this for the last week or so. Not like punching the wall kicking the dog pissed, but rather just annoyed at the circumstances. But then on Superbowl Sunday I had a little epiphany about this whole thing. I was in my big warm house, watching the game on my big screen TV, gorging myself on a feast that would make a roman emperor jealous. Remarkably, the whole time I was lounging in paradise, happy as a clam, nursing my sore jaw, I was tying on an award winning drunk. I’m happy and I get drunk. I really can’t imagine being in the shoes of someone who is homeless, addicted, and/or down on their luck. So now, I feel like a complete shmuck for getting pissed about this. Because I’m sure that if it was me out there, I want whatever cheap high I could get, to numb me up a little. She no longer hangs out in front of my store. That makes me feel even worse.

Random Observations

I'm back. In a previous post "I broke myself", I discussed my jaw. Well, it happened again on Superbowl Sunday. This time, a trip to the dentist was required. The diagnosis "a charley horse to my face"! I'm not shitting! Apparently I had a cramp to the facial muscles on the left side of my face that was so severe, it pulled my jaw to the side dislocating it. So, since last Sunday it's been soft food and Valium. But as I said, I'm back now. So while I was off recovering, I made a few random observations.

1. Hot dogs are just bologna shaped like a dick.

2. Who thought up the word yogurt? It sounds like something I cough up when I have bronchitis.

3. Why do some (grown) women adorn the rear widow area of there car with stuffed animals. Do they fear covering up the Cinderella bed spread that they have at home? Please, grow up.

4. Turn signals come standard on every car sold in America. To the asshole that turned into Starbucks this morning, please remember that. And by the way "fuck you". Don't honk at me, you were in the wrong.

5. Where is it? A very bright friend of mine always seems to end our debates (disagreements) with "well that’s neither here nor there!" Well then smart guy, where the fuck is it?

Jake

Spam heros.

Today alone, 79 emails arrived in my bulk emailbox. Looking through them I learned ten very important things about myself. Let me share them with you.

1. My penis is too small.

2. My penis no longer gets hard.

3. I suffer a great deal of pain.

4. I cum to fast.

5. There is an online pharmacy that will take care of numbers 1-4. (No physical required!!!)

6. I need a new watch and apparently a replica will do just fine.

7. My shoes aren't worth a shit, but never fear because Johnny Arelene can get me new designer ones for 60% off. Thanks Johnny!!!

8. There are aggressive stock traders hunting me down and I should beware.

9. My mortgage sucks.

10. Nembe'; a close friend in Africa that I wasn't aware of, wants to share a $100,000 inheritance with me if I pay a $100 transfer fee for him.

I love the internet. Where would I be in life if all of these fine individuals weren’t looking out for me?

Monkeys, thumbs, and de-evolution.

I like monkeys. I think that monkeys are pretty cool. Over the past two years or so I have been exposed to monkeys more often than the previous several years. Here are some of the reasons; that I feel, being a monkey would be cool.

Reason number one: Sleeping. Monkeys sleep a lot. I would assume it's because they don't have jobs or alarm clocks. I have both and never seem to get enough sleep.

Reason number two: Public ball scratching, public pissing, and public masturbation. I know what you’re going to say “Jake nothing is preventing you from doing that as a person." Your right, but my point is that people have hang ups about these acts and monkeys don't give a fuck!

And finally the third and in my opinion the greatest reason that being a monkey would rule. . . . . you get to throw shit at people when they piss you off or invade you space. Again, "people do that also Jake!" My retort, only if you’re up state doing time in the local penitentiary. Well, I'm not willing to be someone’s cell bitch just so I can enjoy a little turd tossing.

Upon looking at this idea in more depth I actually believe the problem is "opposing digits!" Yes folks we have thumbs, and it's fucked everything up. Track back any human shortcoming or flaw and ultimately you will wind up blaming it on our fucking thumbs. So really, maybe we de-evolved and the monkey's are above us on the evolutionary chain. Now don't get all snippy and pissed at me. Don't pull out the "our brains are bigger and more advance" crap. Watch 5 minutes of any Jerry Springer show or Jim Carey movie and that theory gets shot right the fuck down!
Jake

I have and Idea!

I think that I need to listen more, think more, and talk less.
Jake

fromage de tête,tête fromagée

I was at the deli today and it got me to thinking. Who the hell came up with head cheese? In the glass cabinet there was a slab of this stuff. Visually it reminded me of one of those fake rubber vomit gags that I had as a kid. I mean really, it looks like a fully masticated and partially digested bologna and provolone sandwich with extra mayo that someone returned to the deli because it didn't settle right. People eat this stuff! I'll be honest, I have eaten some stuff in my life that most people would find less than palatable. I once ate a rabbit eye ball and another time I drank about two cups of pickle/vinegar juice. Before I forget, I don't recommend either of these. Getting back on track. . . Both of those were on dares. So, it wasn't like I sought these tasty treats out. Inquiring minds want to know. So, when I returned from the store, I did a quick online search. Volumes of information spewed onto my computer screen. Everything I wanted to know and a whole lot that I didn't, was right there. One quote said " the sour taste of head cheese is attributed to the use of the fat found on the feet of the slaughtered pig." MMMmmmmmm, sign me up! If there was ever the slightest consideration in my often demented mind to try this shit, that quote has most certainly eliminated that possibility from ever coming to be.

Jake

The Bike Guy

Today I saw something that I do not understand. A grown man in his late forties riding a kids BMX style bike down the street. My brain would never, under ANY conceivable circumstance, see that as a better option than walking. I mean "really". . . Well o.k. maybe with plastic handlebar tassels and a 7 of diamonds in the spokes. But short of that, my pride would just have to say NO!