Birth-Songs

So the most recent Facebook chain-letter thing is asking me about the #1 song in America when I was born. Considering I’m 35, this means I’m sure the song is disco-related.

After a quick Wikipedia search, I learned that my song is “Disco Lady” by Johnnie Taylor.

And to think if my parents got busy a few months earlier, I could have been Love Rollercoaster. 😦

But I didn’t want to stop there. I was curious to know what the nation’s top song was when I was conceived. I know it would be next-to-impossible to find out when that actually happened, but for the sake of discussion let’s pretend it took place exactly 9 months earlier from my birth date.

What did I end up with?

Considering my parents split up less than a decade afterward, Captain & Tennille were wrong on this one.

Discounting This Promotion

So earlier today I heard some business pimping its “tax rebate” sale. Basically, the store will pay your sales tax.

Is it really worth it to buy airtime over a promotion that amounts to a 7 percent discount? I remember years ago when I worked a few weeks at a store that was going out of business. Customers would come up with their discounted items and would be bewildered when their “10 percent off” products didn’t result in a lower price. How quickly we forget about that good ol’ sales tax.

It’s The End Of The World As We Know It … Depending On Who’s Elected

No matter who wins this year’s presidential election, can we please refrain from any, “OMG the Mayans were right about the end of the world happening at year’s end” comments?

I promise not to use this line if you promise not to use this line.

New Year’s Eve 2011

Last night, much like 13 of the previous 14 New Year’s Eves, the better half and I stayed home, got Chinese/Italian take-out and watched movies.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Neither one of us has been a fan of December 31, and this was even before we met. We just don’t have any desire to deal with a bunch of drunk, obnoxious assholes in public — we deal with that enough already.

So what did we watch? First up was “Shutter Island.” It was OK; I knew what was going to happen at the end. Extremeley overrated and a bit on the long side, in my opinion, but perfectly acceptable.

Next up was, “The New World.” Holy wow was this movie terrible. Less than 15 minutes into this three-hour flick I was seriously thinking of turning it off, which NEVER happens. Guess it was one of those instances where I had the thing on so I might as well get the viewing experience over with.

How About Driving Over To More Healthier Food Options?

So last night was a trip to Walmart. Yeah, you think I’m not coming back from that place with yet another observation of our society?

Its’ always fun to witness a Walmart Hoveround Convoy and take note at the products in the baskets of each respective vehicle. Let’s just say these people don’t make too many trips to the produce section. Although I do understand why PepsiCo makes quite the profit.

Too bad these things don’t have hydraulics installed on them (yet), or else I could made a “Nothing but a G Thang” reference as well.

Nobody Likes A Playa Hater

So there was some recent family controversy caused by yours truly. Here’s the skinny.

My one niece is of high-school age and does the band thing. In a few weeks there is going to be some band competition with her school and some other schools in the region. Now Mrs. kkk and her mother attend these stupid functions all the time; I do not. As the better half was texting her niece — let’s call her “Peggy” in this instance — Peggy asks Mrs. kkk if our nephew from my brother-in-law’s family will be attending the event, and if he is not attending if he could be asked.

Now this text exchange occurred as the better half and I were driving home from work, so I was being told of these texts in real time. Of course, the first thing to come out of my mouth was, “I wonder which of Peggy’s friends she’s trying to hook up with “Jake” (the nephew)?” Mrs. kkk scoffed at this notion, but as it began to sink in I think she realized Peggy was using her as a go-between for match-making purposes. What other reason could there be? Oh, I forgot to mention that earlier this year some of Peggy’s friends looked at a picture of Jake and said he was “hot.”

Yeah, I don’t sense ANYTHING fishy with this.

Now here is where it gets funny. Mrs. kkk sent a text to Jake’s father — let’s call him “Steve” in this instance — asking if Jake is available whatever day this battle of the bands was to take place. I can’t remember what the better half added in the text, but it included a mention that she thought Peggy may be trying to set Jake up with one of her friends. For whatever reason, Steve went off his rocker over this, which is hilarious because from the stories I’ve heard Steve was quite the man-whore in his day.

Well after a day or two, Mrs. kkk sent a text back to Peggy and also made a passing comment about why Peggy wanted Jake there at this event. This of course resulted in no response of any kind back from Peggy — guess she had to call an emergency meeting with her other friends and try to plan another way to get this hunk of man meat over to hook up with one (or more!) of Peggy’s friends.

Do I take great pride in starting this chain of events? You bet I do.

Bath Night

So last night Bella got a little somethin-somethin on her hindquarters matted in her fur. When the better half and I couldn’t get it out via washcloth/brush, we took the nuclear option.

If you remember the “Crocodile Hunter,” the cats’ bathing routine is something like when Steve Irwin and pals would handle one of those reptiles. I do the pinning/containment and the better half does the washing. It’s actually a pretty good system.

The highlight of the whole ordeal was Max sitting outside the bathroom door crying during all this — until he saw Bella, realized what was going on and took off like a bat out of hell.

AAAsshole

Dear Crazy AAA Tow-Truck Guy: You didn’t think anybody with a cell phone would take down your plate number?

Long story short: I was driving through Pittsburgh this afternoon en route to pick up Mrs. kkk. As usual, afternoon rush hour has some gridlock. This douche bag was tailgating every vehicle in front of him, threw a temper tantrum at two stop lights and finally peeled out in the right lane at a stretch of road/intersection that featured a bunch of pedestrians.

Not sure what became of my phone call, but I got the dickhead’s plate number, vehicle number and facial description. Hopefully this asshole got fired because he does not belong out on the road.

Leave The Left Lane If You Drive Slow

Dear Prius Driver: Going 35 mph in the left lane on the Parkway East Highway might save you $0.09 in fuel, but you savings will probably be wiped out once another motorist plows into you.

Regulating Is A Seven-Day-A-Week Job

The upside to regulating pet feedings. If you sleep in, they let you know of it and you’re not (as) late for work. The downside to regulating pet feedings. There’s no “off” switch for the weekends.

I wonder why I’m posting about this particular subject now?

Instant Non-gratification

You learn something new every day. Today’s lesson is that some instant coffee is more vile than other instant coffee.

I don’t have a big hard-on for coffee. I’m perfectly content scooping some instant stuff and making sure it mixes well with the Splenda, creamer and other junk I put in my morning mug to wake me up in the morning. I have been buying some brand at Walmart for months, but the jars are small. I decided to try my local grocery store’s brand, which is a much larger jar and is slightly cheaper.

In this instance, I got what I paid for. Blech.

Although in a week or two I probably won’t notice the difference.

Bus Making A Splash Entrance

Well I found a Found a use for my region’s wonderful Port Authority government transportation system.

If a bus is in front of you while driving, it’s pretty effective at clearing away puddles around the curb so there’s no worry of hydroplaning. Not sure the pedestrians appreciate this public service as much…

Hands Off My Nuts

It’s official. Someone has been jacking my office Emerald Cocoa Roast Almonds.

😡

Celebrate Labor By Not Working

So I guess the Friday after Thanksgiving is Corporation Day.

Only Thing Certain Today Is The Jobs Report

Nothing says, “I’m sure glad I still don’t know the renewal status of my current employment contract,” better than reading today’s jobs report.

So much for getting Labor Day weekend off to a good start.

The economy added no jobs in August, the Labor Department said Friday.

Zero, zilch, nada.

Meanwhile, the unemployment rate remained at 9.1%.

Test For Echo

Why is it I (and the rest of the first floor at my workplace) can hear my Hate Radio and Kill Whitey music just fine down the hallway thanks to the echo this hallway produces, but I can barely hear the same music/talk when I’m actually inside my office? Stupid sound dynamics.

No Way To Get Around Me Blasting My Horn

Sorry city crossing guard, but if you are going to direct someone to back up into me then I am going to blare my car horn nonstop. It’s not my fault the dumbass is blocking the intersection. You gonna pay ma’ bills?

Thing is this particular crossing guard I deal with during my morning commute is stationed on a busy intersection and isn’t a complete waste of space, unlike the other dozen or so crossing guards I encounter on a daily basis. But the minute you start infringing on my space/property, you will get the Car Horn of Doom.

Back In The Black, But Not By Much

The monthly budget looked much better before the four car tires, new garage door opener and visit from the bug man.

We still in the black, but now we’re Michael Jackson minus the sleepovers. I wanted to be Wesley Snipes. 😦

Cats Think Vacuums Suck

Today was cleaning day at the kkk Manor. This of course meant busting out the vacuum cleaner, much to the chagrin of the four-legged brood.

After cleaning the first floor, I proceeded upstairs to vacuum the spare bedroom and computer room. As I began in the spare bedroom, various members of the four-legged brood that were hiding in there suddenly ran for their lives as the vacuuming sequence began. Where did they go for refuge? Why to the computer room — the next place I was going to vacuum.

And they wonder why they are being “hunted.”

Like To Trade In This “Personal” Message

What was waiting for me in the mail today?

A letter from the local car dealership that ruined my previous automobile. This was another “personal” message to me from the asshats at the Kenny Ross Dealership (Rt. 30 in Irwin), stating that they were in “dire need” of “quality pre-owned vehicles.” They even said, “We might be able to reduce your monthly payment (if you trade-in your car).”

Considering my car is paid-in-full, if your monthly payment is currently $0, do they just give you money?

Can’t Have Your Cake And Eat It, Too

The better half just got scolded at by a Ph.D. pencil pusher for having the audacity to take leftover cake from the university’s student lounge after some stupid student social event. At least now I know what the conversation will be on the drive home from work this afternoon.

Hello Dolley

So yesterday at work I had to move a bunch of heavy air conditioners, among other items. And I did it with no problems thanks to that wonderful contraptions called a dolley.

Funny how something called, “dolley” can make even the biggest girly man like me feel rugged.

Moving Day In The City

Out-of-state license plates, commie bumper stickers, 20-30 added commuting minutes.

Gotta love college move-in week.

I have been driving into Pittsburgh dropping off and picking up the better half since 2004, so I’m all too familiar with when the college students arrive for spring and fall semester classes. Thankfully Mrs. kkk has been across the state this week on a work-related matter, so I haven’t had to drive into the city while the students are moving in. But the better half will be home in time for Wednesday through Friday.

Fun.

Guess Someone Watched A “Parking Wars” Marathon

So the kid two houses down from me wrote the better half a $5 littering ticket because somebody threw an empty pack of cigarettes onto our front yard.

Now it’s time to attach tape a similar citation to his bike parked in my next-door neighbor’s front yard.

Backyard Factory Farming

Question: What do you call a vehicle with a bumper sticker titled “Eat Your Backyard” turning into a McDonald’s?

Answer: Just another observation during the work commute.

A Cool Bill

I’m a bit of an oddball. Yeah, big shock.

I don’t hate my bank. I like my cable service provider. And I’m actually … happy … about paying my highest electric bill of the year.

Living in southwestern Pennsylvania, the electric bill usually spikes during the months of July, August and September — mostly from the central air unit. This isn’t anything new to me. Since 2004 the electric bills have always followed this pattern.

Fast-forward to this summer. For the last month, it has been sweltering in the region. The AC unit which was recently purchases has been getting one helluva workout. So I have been curious to see what the bill would be this month, which is typically the highest of each year.

Well the bill finally arrived in the mail, and I was pleasantly surprised. I was way off in my bill prediction by more than 30 percent. And this was an actual meter reading, not an estimated one.

You know the feeling you get when you find a $20 bill in your coat pocket or in your jeans? Yeah, it was kinda like that — only multiply by five.

I gladly wrote out the check and mailed it in. With the weather being as hot as it has been, I will happily pay the piper if it means being comfortable in the house.

Neck A Tat-Tat

I’m not a big fan of tattoos. However, I don’t hate on them … much. I figure I have put enough permanent marks on my body over the years and don’t need to pay someone to do it for me. But if someone wants to brand himself, then yay.

However, neck tattoos. I don’t get them.

I’ve made jokes in the past to people who sported ink by saying, “Well there go any hopes of you getting a banker’s job.” It’s all in good fun. I actually do think tattooing is an art — at least for those that design creative images on people. But I just don’t get neck tattoos.

Call me a prude. Call me a puritan. Call me whatever. I just hope you enjoy being a Sandwich Artist.

Showing Blistering Restraint

So remember that burn blister I got on my right pinky finger?

Well, it’s pretty much healed now. But most importantly, I think this is the first time I ever dealt with a blister without ripping it apart. The fact it was on my right pinky tip makes this achievement all the more impressive. It’s weird not having to deal with an uber-tender piece of ripped flesh with all sorts of ooze everywhere. It was quite the new experience.

But now comes a bigger test of my will. Last night I bought two bags of Chocolate Peanut Butter Bugles (sale and coupon of course), and I opened up a bag planning to have just one serving at at time.

Having consumed my first serving earlier tonight, this is going to make my lifelong battle with blister molestation a walk in the park.

Cutting A Rug And Chewing The Fat

So yesterday I was cutting a rug with the 14-year-old from the jobs/works program. No, seriously. We were literally cutting a rug. My office was getting a hardwood floor installed over the weekend and the boss told me to move out all my furniture and cut out the carpet.

While cutting up the carpet, we got to talking about some of my previous workplace experiences. I mentioned that during my high school years I used to work the closing shift to fast-food restaurants. The 14-year-old’s eyes lit up and said, “So you got to keep all the left-over food? That’s so awesome! I can’t wait until I’m old enough to do that.”

The youth emanate such a sweet nectar of naivete.

I also added that I used to do things to the food of customers who would piss me off. Yeah, I really shouldn’t have added that part. I can’t wait until she tells her mother what she learned at work that day.

Planning This Shopping Trip Is A Real Riot

So the looters, moochers and parasites of England are having their way with rioting.

A wave of violence and looting raged across London and spread to three other major British cities, as authorities struggled to contain the country’s worst unrest since race riots set the capital ablaze in the 1980s.

In London, groups of young people rampaged for a third straight night, setting buildings, vehicles and garbage dumps alight, looting stores and pelting police officers with bottles and fireworks into early Tuesday. The spreading disorder was an unwelcome warning of the possibility of violence during London’s 2012 Summer Olympics, less than a year away.

Instead of pointing out the feral underclass or going into great detail about the societal implications of these public disturbances, I’m going to address the big pictures.

If you decided to take part in a looting mob, what stores do you hit and what items do you get in compensation for your years of being oppressed by the Man?

First off, I would NOT venture into a local Walmart or Target store. My experiences at Black Friday shopping have shown me these are the LAST stores you should be near in these situations. I also would steer clear from electronics stores. Well, I might go into Best Buy if I wanted to take as much of the smaller merchandise as possible in the hope of selling it. But taking a big-screen TV? Don’t think so. I’m not walking down the street lugging this; it could get stolen from me or broken by the dumbmasses out and about.

While the thought of going into a Barnes and Noble to stock up on my CDs/DVDs is tempting, especially since I doubt looters would really go into a bookstore, I’m going to Kohl’s. Below are my reasons why:

1) There’s something for just about every room of the house. I probably wouldn’t get any clothes, but there are some household items that could come in handy. In addition, Kohl’s has some basic electronic items. I’m not a huge gadget geek; I’d glady get some of these items now if they weren’t so overpriced.

2) Because I believe in being as elusive as possible, Kohl’s big shopping bags will provide me with the opportunity to collect as much bounty as possible.

3) Much like Barnes & Noble, I doubt the looters, moochers and parasites would break into this store. If they did, my gut is telling me they would probably spend some time taking clothes. Because I would not be in this area of the store, the spill-off of leeches will help me when I’m looting in my own departments.

The saddest thing about all this? I’m using the same insight to this as I do with my Black Friday shopping excursions.

Instructions Were The Destruction Of This Student

So I just learned that the 17-year-old who was at my workplace compliments of a local works program is illiterate. How was this discovered? Her inability to read an instructional manual aloud. Well, the first clue was she was trying to read the form from the Spanish portion of the manual. When we moved the manual over to the English section, she tried reading the instructions again. I don’t think she would have fared much better if the instructions were actualy in Spanish.

Now here’s what has me perplexed: how was she able to text for most of her time spent here?

Seriously.

Now granted “text-ese” can be classified as a language unto itself, but the cell phone keypads contain the same letters. Maybe there ought to be a “text language” section included with instructional manuals and similar documents.

Drop It Like It’s Hot … Because It Is!

So last night I was taking some salmon out of the oven. And like a dope I put the baking pan that was in an 450 degree oven for 30 minutes from my hand that had on an oven mitt onto my hand that didn’t have on an oven mitt.

Yeah, that was a smart move.

Fortunately, I had already put the salmon on the counter so only the tray fell onto the floor. But still, it’s one fun blister on my pinky finger.

Upon further review, I’m surprised that I only had one blister.

Talk about a brain fart. The millisecond I realized what I was doing it was too late. Oh well, at least I know my nerve endings still work.

Let Me Guilt You Into Reading This Post

So I heard the following (slightly paraphrased) line on Dave Ramsey’s radio show: Will you answer the phone/reply to the email when you have a travel agent for guilt trips on the other end?

That got a laugh out of me.

Taking A Vacation From Vacation Days

For as much as I like being an adult (in a literal if not figurative sense), one thing I do not like is using vacation days for grown-up stuff.

I have used up four out of my ten vacation days. One was for removing a pair of wisdom teeth in January. Another was so I could drive to my mom’s out-of-state residence. I will be using another vacation day next week to get some stuff done to the car. The only vacation day I used for “fun” was a day in July that Mrs. kkk was out of state at a conference and I said, “Oh what the heck I’m staying home.”

But I’ve got six more vacation days left this year. Hopefully there won’t be any more “real world” reasons to use them.

Splitting Up … The Money To Lawyers

So I was listening to the assistant talk about some custody issues she is having with the ex. You know one of the saddest thing about some custody battles? All that money being spent by two individuals going to the lawyers when it could/should be going to the kids. And it’s all because one person wants an additional holiday visitation or something similar that could/should be resolved via a phone conversation or email exchange.

Then again, if a divorced couple could act civil to each other they may not have split up in the first place.

Give It Up

Would you give up the Internet for a million dollars?

I’d probably go through a million dollars worth of porn per year, so the answer is No.

Boxed Out

So I do a lot of shipping and I have a stash of boxes I use. Basically, there are two types of boxes.

The first set of boxes are boxes that have previously been used. There’s some wear and tear, but it’s still shippable.

The second set of boxes are boxes I order/purchase. These are new boxes and because I purchase them and bill the client.

Every time I talk to my office brethren about my stash of shipping boxes, I tell them that the used boxes are for everybody to use. However, I make it abundantly that these boxes are to be left alone. And you can tell the difference between these two types of boxes.

Now what did I discover this morning? The shipping boxes in my workplace stash that I asked my office brethren not to use suddenly went from a count of 15 to 0.

Time to go Galt.

Brush Stop

Why do women fuss with their hair at the stop light with the windows down? The hair is just going to get puffed out again 5 seconds after the light turns green.

Please note I’m not talking about the “brushing hair from eyes” hair fussing? I’m talking about full-fledged re-workings, sometimes with brushes ‘n stuff.

Heck, most guys would probably prefer that wind-out look. Then again, most women dress for other women so it’s a moot point.

AC Installer

I have just been “assigned” to install 11 AC units throughout the first floor offices today. The over/under on how many wind up on the ground outside by tomorrow morning is 5.

Oh, and remember those teens I was told to fire? They’re back (don’t ask why because I don’t know either) and are going to help me.

What could possibly go wrong?

Getting Fired Up

So earlier this month the boss hired some high-schoolers to do village-idiot work in the building.

Today, as ordered by the boss, I gave the high-schoolers the employment ban-hammer. Today’s lesson: If you joined a union, you’d still have a job. Until the Mexicans show up, anyway.

Online Distra… Ohhhh, Shiny

Isn’t it fun to go online with a specific purpose in mind (paying bills, get distracted with another website or three and log-off — only then realizing that you forgot why you originally wanted to do on this here Internet?

And what are the website that distract me? In no particular order:

— Facebook

— Breitbart’s “Big Hollywood/Entertainment/etc.”

— Internet Movie Database.

— Wikipedia.

— YouTube.

Coexisting On The Same Road Together

My chuckle of the morning commute: Seeing someone road-raging it up while driving a truck with one of these bumper stickers stuck onto his bumper.

And while I’m on the subject, here is another alternative to the above bumper sticker.

Junk Holiday

So earlier today I learned that today is “National Junk Food Day.”

Well for some people I see using Hoverounds at Walmart and Sam’s Club, it appears that every day is National Junk Food Day.

Getting Swole? That’s Swell

So last week the boss put an ad up on Craig’s List to get rid of some exercise equipment that was taking up dust in her office building’s basement.

Somebody answered her ad and picked up the device earlier today.

And now I can cross off, “Yo n*gga, I’m about to get my swole on,” from my list of “Things I never thought I’d hear in the workplace.”

Clean Environment Goes Up In Smoke

Forget all that second-hand smoke nonsense, I’d give the ban-hammer to public smoking due to the littering.

Good grief, people. You lit up your cancer stick, now properly dispose of it.

A Real Yo-Yo With Chitchat

So earlier today Mrs. kkk and I went to seven stores (yes, I kept track). In each store we had the following conversation take place with our cashier:

“Hi. How are you doing today?”

“Fine, thanks. And you?”

“Fine. Thanks for asking.”

Effective immediately, I’m skipping all this nonsense with a simple, “What up, yo?” I’m tired of it all.

I sympathize with cashiers putting up the facade of caring about how your day is going. I just wish there was this universal sign that could be used to indicated, “Just ring up my order and I’ll leave you alone.”

Could “What up, yo?” be that sign?

DEVELOPING…

Brushing Off This Impulse Purchase

I can use the $1 in-store sale or $1.50 coupon as excuses, but the real reason I got that 28 oz. bottle of bbq sauce was because it came with a free mini-basting brush.

A brush which, of course, I will never use or destroy after just one application.

At least when I was 10 years old I had an excuse for acting this way whenever I wanted a certain cereal brand just for its toy inside the box.

Lying Down On The Job

So there’s this new video game out called “LA Noir.” Basically, you’re a detective and you try to solve cases by reading the facial expressions of various suspects and figuring out who is lying and who is telling the truth. As far as I know, this is the first time a game has put such a concentrated effort to involve facial expressions in the game play.

But who needs this game when I’ve got the assistant to catch fibbing?

I have to laugh because the assistant fibs over the dumbest shit. I really don’t care because she gets the job done, and I don’t feel like training another person. The fibs aren’t anything earth-shattering. For whatever reason, she feels the need to … embellish… what she does at the workplace and she really has no need to do so.

Here’s an example: The assistant primarily corresponds with people via email. However, at today’s meeting she told the boss and I that she has been making phone calls all week. She hasn’t. We all have the ability to see who’s using the telephone, and I don’t recall seeing her line lit up once in the past week. I think the assistant figured out we knew she was full of shit, so she added that she makes a lot of calls on her cellphone.

Yeah.

The thing is she has no reason to make this shit up. She does a good job, and I have don’t have any problems with what she does in the office. Hell, we fulfilled the quota to our 5-year contract by one month so it wasn’t like she was twiddling her thumbs this entire time.

Oh well. Only fight the battles worth fighting.

Spreadng The Mulch

So earlier today Mrs. kkk’s summer mulch order showed up. The better half’s brother buys the stuff from someone he knows and leaves a trailer full of this stuff on our front yard. Now it’s time to shovel it all around the house. (If you haven’t figured it out by now, this was the inspiration behind kkk’s Rule of Life #77)

Allah help me should I ever have to rely on my muscles to pay the mortgage instead of my mind, which is already a scary-enough thought.

I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream — For What?

So earlier today I heard some of the neighborhood kids screaming outside. You never quite know if a six-year old is screaming due to joy or due to anger.

Usually hearing the parent’s reaction a few seconds later reveals the answer.