Irish Drunk Fest

Jen does her best to describe to Sean's sister that he is alive and well here in Kansas.....and she proves that Americans are NOT to be trusted.



This will be fun to explain to the family. Hopefully they don't know this address.

My New Sofas

There's really not much else I can say about this.

I mean, don't get me wrong. I want to be witty and fun. But really....they're sofas. I can't do or say anything else about them that would be worth reading. I can't even think of something I could do, to make this funny or entertaining.

They do recline, though. Woot.

Rollercoaster of Love

I went to our local fun park this weekend. Theme park, fun park, amusement park...whatever your local dialect chooses to call it. Ours is called Worlds of Fun.

My favorite is still Six Flags, but that doesn't really matter to the post.

We took Jen's cousin Sean who is in town from Ireland. He had never ridden a roller coaster before. We decided we had to let him experience one while he was in town.

We were bad, mean people. We...might have told him that people sometimes die but that "it doesn't happen every month, like it used to".

SHAME on us. We are wicked.

While we were in line at a coaster we had said earlier was the "baby coaster", we informed him that it was actually the fastest one the park had, and he absolutely, positively, could not chicken out, or we would make fun of him.

I'm not sure WHY we did this. It seemed funny to us, at the time. The more pale he got as our turn to ride grew closer, the more guilty we felt. We ended up telling him the truth, that the ride was 100% safe and that it wasn't all that bad.

He didn't believe us.

He got on, anyway. On the way up the first hill, I turned around to see how he was doing. He yelled at me to turn back around so he could concentrate, or something. I heard him cussing us out as we neared the top of the very large hill to start the coaster. I think if there had been a way for his little Irish ass to jump off at this point without getting in trouble or hurt, he would have.

As we crested the hill, I think I actually heard his heart stop. Did I mention we made him sit in the front car? I didn't? Oh.....well, we did. He was in the back part of the front car with us.

Holy shit. Poor kid. Here's what he experienced:



After that was over...he wanted to go again. Whew.

HA! USA rules again! We make the best ways to scare the shit out you, and charge your for it. All are welcome.

Random:
I wonder if a cat would enjoy a roller coaster? Could you make them see from the front, like we do? Would they have a little cat embolism or something? Hmmmm.

Vent Session

You know what really bugs me? Besides people who don’t update their blog on a regular basis? (sheepish grin)

What really bugs me are people who don’t appreciate the time and effort I put into my emails and other correspondence to them. I will spend five to ten minutes making an email perfect. I’ll add colors and Italicize certain words and add bold font to make works pop out.

I even break out the paragraphs and interesting points from the main body of the email, to help them stand out so the reader can get the idea faster.

I care. I work hard to make my emails fun to read, and informative at the same time. I want them to read the email and say to themselves “Wow….he really cares about me and our new ERP project design team.”

Do you know what I get in return, most of the time?

Fucking nothing.

No reply email or response of any kind. And when I do get a reply back, it’s usually quick and has misspelled words and doesn’t even answer any of the questions I posted in the original email. It will only answer the LAST question asked, and so I am forced to reply back to the them and say “Did you read the whole email? I put EVERYTHING you need in there. The last sentence is NOT the most important part, you know!”

And then they don’t reply…again.

Fuck.

Fucking reply to emails that people send you. They take the time to include you in their life and they take the time to send you shit…so the LEAST you can do is take one fucking gorram minute out your busy fucking life to reply to the fucking email.

How hard is it to reply to an email? Control + R is the shortcut key, if you’re too retarded to use the mouse. I know, I know….you’re afraid of keyboard shortcuts because you still think you can “crash your hard drive” with a simple accidental keystroke because you’ve seen too many movies. Well then, don’t use keystrokes. Click the “Reply” button at the top after you’re done reading the email.

It’s not hard. I promise. Give it a try.

Did you know that every time you choose NOT to reply to an email, a puppy gets molested? It’s true. I sent you an email about it last week, but you chose to NOT read it or reply to it, so Scraps is now being fondled in his little puppy butthole right now.

Good job.

I'm Stooopid Smart

I consider myself to be a smart person. I take pride in my ability to understand concepts and intellectual theories that some people might find difficult. I’m the kind of person that can spit out random, useless data or facts in a futile attempt to impress strangers at parties or social functions. Not in an annoying way, though. Honest.

I took physics and passed. I took Calculus I and II in college. Despite several headaches and mental breakdowns I passed the course by the sum of the limit as it reaches zero. I’ve taken Accounting classes and Philosophy and Cognitive Psychology. I’ve had some schooling. I have a 4.0 GPA in my business program right now.

I will debate topics with you like religion, politics, social standing, or even the less dramatic ones like wine or movies. I know 13 decimals of Pi. I play chess. I have never stuck my finger into a light socket.

I’m reading A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn and so far I understand every single bit of it.

I do smart things. I am smart. I know I am.

But today I feel like a complete fucking idiot.

I brought it on myself, too. I was sitting here in the office this morning, being bored because there are currently no projects on my desk, and for some reason I was even the first one in the office. So while I sat here being bored, I tried to better myself by doing a little “brain quiz” to help wake me up, and keep the neurons firing.

I tried to name all 50 states.

Oh. My. God.

I totally couldn’t do it. I am currently at 41 total states, and I know there are more than that. At least, I’m pretty sure…I’m starting to doubt my sanity, at this point. I can’t effing believe I can’t think of the other 9 states I’m missing.

Argh.

I only stopped so I could clear my head, and write this blog post so the whole world (and yes, I’m lame enough to think the WHOLE world reads this blog) can know how stupid I am.

Wait! 42! I just remembered Delaware!

Woot!

I will find all 50. You watch.

…

…

I’d better fucking find all 50.

Tipping

I believe in tipping. It’s like gravity. They say it’s only a theory, and some people don’t believe in it…but I do. I know it exists. I think tipping is important, and you will always get money out of me, as long as I think you are making an effort to cater to my various needs.

A quick rundown on what I think about tipping, in general:

If you do a bad job, you’ll get 10%.
If you do a good job, you’ll get 15%
If you do a great job, you’ll get 20%
If you show me your boobs, you’ll get 35%
If you show me your boobs but forget to bring me a refill on my Coke Zero, you’ll get 30%

That’s how it works.

Some people are bad tippers. Some people are good about it. Some people are just trashy about it, to the point of being whisky tango.

Jen has a friend who is a bad tipper. She has this theory that she doesn’t have to tip as much as she should when she is out to dinner with a group of people. Her crazy logic revolves around the fact that she believes that if you have a group of four people, and each one of you has a dinner bill of around $50 each…then she only has to put down $4.00 to the “tip pot”.

Four fucking dollars.

Upon being questioned about this, she replies with “Well since everybody else is putting in more money, then I don’t have to put in as much and the tip should still be bigger than if I was alone.”

Or some such shit.

I’m not sure what’s going on in her head, except cheapness and rudeness and a general lack of class and social understanding. Even if you are a moron and hate tipping, you know that 10% is standard, and you should never go below that unless you REALLY hate your service. Other than that, there is no reason to tip less than 10%.

None.

It’s so tacky, it makes my butt itch.

Granted, this is the same girl who put on her wedding invitations: “Instead of wedding gifts, please send money so I can have a bigger honeymoon.”

I shit you not. The girl asked for money on her wedding invitations. It was so horrible I almost died when I read it. So it doesn’t surprise me that she tips less than 10%...I just find it horrible and worth mentioning here.

Four fucking dollars.

Bitch, Whine, Moan

Cripes.

It seems like everybody has to bitch about everything. Everywhere you look, it seems like somebody new is complaining about something else that annoys their delicate natures again. Er....except me. I don't bitch about everything. I simply share my opinions about other people's bitching and offer suggestions for how we can improve on ourselves. Right?

Right.

Anyway. The point is, people like to bitch and moan. It makes them feel special and it makes them feel like they are important and worth taking up space for.

Today's good example of which, is the Church of England.

The church is complaining about Sony's use of the Manchester Cathedral in a video game. The game in question is called Resistance: Fall of Man. It's a game about an alien invasion of earth during WWII and how humanity teams up to survive and conquer their invaders.




Nothing religious whatsoever about this video game. It's about blowing shit up and shooting aliens. Violence, pure and simple in its wonderfulness.




The fact that somebody has found a reason to bitch besides stuck up, bored housewives who think video games are too violent astounds me. This game has nothing to do with religion or the church, and the fact that the Church of England has found a reason to bitch blows me the fuck away.

The Manchester Cathedral is used as a background for one of the levels in the game...nothing more. They don't even refer to the church by name, to my knowledge. If they do, they don't make it very obvious. I didn't know which church the level I was playing was in, while I played it. In fact, I didn't know the name of the church until I read this stupid article.

The Church of England wants Sony to issue an apology for using their cathedral without permission, and for Sony to pay them "a large donation" for their trouble.

Piffle.

It's a public building...a church. It's going to be viewed by people, photographed, videoed....and maybe even put into a book, movie, TV show, or God forbid, a video game.

Who cares? It's not like the game is saying anything negative about the church. It's just a backdrop for part of the "story" of the game. It's a setting for plot...nothing more. The fact that they are bitching about it, tells me that they are no better than everybody else and just want to whine.

That, and money.

It's always about money, isn't it? Maybe I'm reading too much into this, and maybe I'm just bitching about somebody else bitching because I don't know what else to blog about today. But maybe it's also a little extreme to demand monetary compensation for something that was truly harmless and doesn't negatively affect the social standing or moral responsibility of a public institution of religion like the Manchester Cathedral.

The Church of England was only formed so a fat, obnoxious, murdering King could divorce his old wife and marry a new one.




Who should be sued over THAT one? Perhaps divorce offends me. Perhaps I feel that breaking away from the Catholic Church is an affront to God and corrupts my children. Do I get money for that? Can I bitch about that, and demand a public apology? Where's my money, bitches?

Send me a check, Church of England. Make the memo say "Sorry for the hypocrisy". Leave creative design like movies and video games alone, and focus on keeping your hands off altar boys.

"Give me my money, bitches!"

Check out this article which also bitches about Church of England bitching if you would like to hear more.

Paris Fucking Hilton

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Third Wheels

Third wheels.

I know that sounds like a stupid phrase that makes no sense, but it's the best way to accurately describe the situation at dinner tonight. We were third wheels. I know the phrase itself makes you scratch your head and think I'm retarded. It's like that movie Airheads when they called themselves The Lone Rangers...and everybody was like, "How can you be lone? There are three of you. You can't be alone if there are three of you. Shouldn't you be The Three Rangers, instead?". It's kinda like that.




Anyway, I'm off track.

Tonight we went out to dinner at a Japanese Steak House. If you've been to one before, you know how it works. They seat you at a table that surrounds a big stove top where they cook your dinner right before your very eyes....so you can verify you aren't eating cat.

Well, normally the table seats about eight people. So when you arrive, you are seated with total strangers and are forced to either eat in the kind of semi-silence indicative of college sex in the library stacks, or you make idle chit-chat with your dinner mates.

Tonight Jen and I got fucking blindsided by a dinner party of six gorram people.

SIX.

That means that Jen and I were the odd men out, and were forced to sit at a table full of people who came together, and who knew each other, and had stories to tell.

Needless to say, we were fucked. We didn't get to talk to them because they were too busy being loud and obnoxious about their opinions on everything from property values to when it's a good time to have babies.

One of the girls at dinner was so obnoxious, I actually found myself staring at her rather large breasts and thinking to myself, "I wouldn't sleep with this woman. If I were single and she wanted my wonderful male member, I would have to lie and tell her I had the AIDS, or something."

That's how annoying she was. It didn't help that she was LOUD and MADE SURE THAT EVERYTHING SHE SAID WAS AN OCTAVE ABOVE THE WHITE NOISE COMING FROM ALL AROUND US IN THE RESTAURANT.


CAN YOU FUCKING PASS THE SALT, PLEASE? WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THERE'S NO SALT? DON'T THEY HAVE SALT IN CHINA? OH, JAPAN...WHATEVER, THEY'RE ALL ASIANS, RIGHT? I LOVE THIS SAUCE HERE, IT REMINDS ME OF THIS TIME IN COLLEGE WHEN WENDY AND I WERE TAKING TURNS LICKING...HEY, WAIT THIS DRINK TASTES FUNNY. WAITRESS-SAN, PLEASE GIVE ME A SODA THAT DOESN'T TASTE FLAT. DO YOU GUYS LIKE EATING HERE?

Er...are you talking to me?

YES! I MAY BE DRUNK AND ANNOYING TONIGHT, JUST FYI.

Really? I just assumed you were always annoying.

HAHAHA, YOU'RE FUNNY. THIS PLACE IS FUN, ISN'T IT?

It used to be.

iGasm

You Will Never See This Coming...

The Sub-Mariner? WTF?!

Well, Hollywood has done it again.

I have always found it unbelievable that Hollywood thinks we are stupid. They must have some sort of crack team of people who do nothing but sit around all day and try to think of new ways to screw us out of our hard-earned money. I don't mind that they have such a think-tank...I mind that these people have no fucking sense of Independence or individuality.

Not to mention the fact that they couldn't come up with an original thought if it came up behind them, bent them over, and rammed their corn hole.

Speaking of anal rape...Hollywood is trying to get up our pants yet again. In their apparently endless quest to exploit anything remotely related to comic books or the Marvel universe...there are rumors spreading around that Hollywood's newest bullshit movie is going to based on.....get this...the Sub-Mariner.




For those of you who didn't watch Saturday morning cartoons as a child, the Sub-Mariner is an obscure and not well liked character from back in the day. He was the Prince of Atlantis who had the ability to breathe underwater and had super strength. NOT the most interesting character, I know. That's why nobody had a Sub-Mariner lunchbox or tee shirt.

He was lame. Not Aquaman lame...but pretty fucking lame. Lame enough to be ignored and forgotten...until now.



Fucking idiots up in Hollywood's movie idea "think" tank have struck again. Keeping themselves out of the unemployment line once again by pitching a movie idea that is just sad. Not just said...fucking sad and lame and a waste of time.

Have we used up SO many good ideas on other media, that we must resort to movies based on obscure comic book characters like the Sub-Mariner? Where is our creative dignity? Where are the ordinal films? Are we really at the end of our rope?

I know that the dick-cheeses up in Hollywood are thinking:

"Well, since X-Men and Spider-Man did so well at the box office six years ago, we should keep making these movies. Let's just keep thrusting comic book heroes down the audience's throats until they vomit up revenue. And once the superhero genre is completely and totally abused and used up like a five dollar whore, we'll turn to a new idea. Get moving on this idea. Call Sam Rami, I'm sure he's not doing anything productive right now."

Fuck.

The goddam Sub-Mariner in a movie. The next thing you know, the idiots will want to make a movie about Wonder Woman.

Oh, yeah. They already fucking ARE. Sweet jebus.

I'm sure that this new movie will flop horribly, even though David B. has already read for the part and would probably make the movie as good as it possibly could be.



I just don't see how anybody could think this was a good idea. Like the Sub-Mariner is going to be a hit? Fucking please. There's a better chance of Paris Hilton being gang-raped in prison....which I'm SO praying for at this point.

Fucking Sub-Mariner. Un-be-fucking-lievable.

232 Posts

Holy fucking shit. I've done 232 posts including this one! I'm not sure what that means, other than I have more free time than I should. Hmm. I should get more hobbies. I only have three right now, but I think I could get more if I just put some effort into it.

Wait...effort? Screw that. I'd rather surf porn.

Speaking of porn. I heard a guy the other day refer to it as "porno". I know that term was highly utilized back in the 70's and 80's but I thought it had died out like Anna Nicole Smith. Ohhhhhhh was that too soon? I'm sorry.

Wait, no I'm not. It's not an insult to say a dead person is dead...is it? Whatever, I'm over it.

Anyway, the word "porno" seems a little too retro for my taste. It actually made it feel dirtier to me. Tell me that isn't fucked up. The fact that when a person says "porn" I think it's ok and sexy and fun and completely innocent. But if they mention porno I think about hairy people and dirty things. Not good dirty...you know, the icky dirty. It makes me feel uncomfortable.

I'm not sure why. It's kinda like saying "panties". For some reason, that word doesn't sit well with me. I'm not saying I think it's a bad word, or gross or anything. I just don't use it and it sounds alien to me when somebody else does.

Seriously, I have no idea why.

So basically if you were to say to me, "I was watching this porno last night and the star had on these yellow panties that made me so hot" I would probably walk away from you and if you didn't read this blog you would have no understanding as to why I just ditched you.

Confused

Am I alone in this? Does anybody else have any words that make them feel icky inside? Porno, panties, feminine juices, discharge, bleeding anus...these words and phrases just don't make me feel happy. I actually cringed when I typed them.

Strange.

At least I'm not wary of normal words. Can you imagine the poor bastard who was icky around the word "the" ??? What a horrible life that would be. His emails would be so hard to read because he'd have to leave out all of the "the" words:

Dear Mike,

I was reading new proposal, and it looks great. only thing I would change would be font. I think that font could be a little bigger and reason for this is words are hard to read. Don't forget meeting we have tomorrow about party on Friday.

Jim


It would be pretty funny, though. Especially if you worked with the guy, and knew his problem. I would so fuck with him on a weekly basis. I'm not sure HOW I would fuck with him, but I'm sure I'd think of something.

Open Letter to AirTran Airways

Dear Fucktards,

I wanted to take a moment of my time to inform you of how wonderful your airline is. Not only did you barely get me to my destination, but you did it with such contemptuous flair that I can't wait to not fly your airline again in the future.

First, a word about your ticket agents. While I find it noble that you choose to hire your attendants from the shallow end of the gene pool, and even though I do believe in equal rights for trailer-trash and ghetto-bots, I think in the future it might benefit your business if you were to choose the non-rude bitches that you currently employ.

The way in which they yelled at passengers who were on stand-by status was awesome. It made me feel right at home, to have a hand thrust in my face in a circa 1996 "get outta my face" gesture while asking for flight info. Truly, a wondrous training program you must have. My personal favorite part of waiting for my flight was when the ticket agent screamed at a passenger to "sit his ass down"....that was classy at its best.

Speaking of ticketing...I think it's great that you'll take anybody's money, no matter how many people book a flight. It helps out travelers, to know that even though the flight only holds 150 people, AirTran chooses to book over 250 passengers. This probably ensures you don't go belly-up and your stock stays out of the proverbial toilet...so that must make it OK.

Good job.

A quick word about your planes: wow. Just...wow. I am SO happy that those planes from the 1970's are still in circulation. I saw the movie The Love Bug, after all so I know that all vehicles have souls and get sad when not in use. How noble and kind of you to ensure those old, forgotten plans get another chance to shine with the new, "safe" planes.

I can't speak for all of us, but I love being on a two hour flight while the entire plane shakes all around me. Remember that loud "clang" noise on flight 435 out of Atlanta? That was rad. The way the people around me quaked with fear and started praying gave me warm fuzzies.

Well played.

In short, your "get you there, or die tryin" mentally for air travel is superb. Your "sit down and shut up, or I will MAKE you shut up" attitude of your ticket agents is the best. And your "I should have been decommissioned in 1978" airplanes are a great way to cut costs and keep making money.

I know that you retards don't understand sarcasm...so I'm sending this letter to you, as it is. My hope is that somebody reads it and actually sounds out most of the words enough to warrant a phone call to me to apologize for the bullshit I've put up with recently.

To say I'm not going to fly your airline again would be the biggest understatement of the decade. I'll be posting this letter to my website, so everybody who reads my blog may know about your incompetence and rude qualities, and hopefully they will avoid your "airline" in the future. If I save just one life or piece of lost luggage, I've done my job.

I hope you go out of business soon.

Hugs and kisses,
Shanshu

I'm a bastard

This is the part, where I tell you I SUCK. Then you tell me I TOTALLY SUCK.

Then I say I'm sorry.

Then you pretend to forgive me, even though in your heart of hearts, all you can think to yourself is "The nerves of this guy. What a fucktard, to think he can try to squirm his way back into my virtual pants of blogger. Fuck him!"

You know you're thinking something like that. That's assuming you're reading this, at all. The sad truth is, you're right. I'm totally an asshole for leaving you all hanging for so long.

My excuses are as follows:

1. My job lay-off.

I know that this seems like a bullshit excuse, but since I've been off work I've had extra time on my hands...and you would THINK this would ensure a daily post or at the very least some comments on other blogs. Surprisingly, this is not the case. As it turns out, my best posts came from a lack of work to do while I sat in my corporate servitude dwindling away the hours.

Now that I'm at home and have other things on my agenda, blogging seems to take a back-seat.

I know, I know. That sounds bitchy and it seems like I don't care about my readers. SO not true...I just need to spend more time blogging, now that I'm not sitting bored in a cubicle all day.

2. Golf

OK, I'm sorry. I've been golfing a lot lately. The weather has been good, and my balls are going where they're supposed to....right in your girlfriend's mouth.

WOOT!

OK, seriously. I've been having a swell time with the golf thing these past 2 weeks, and while my scores have improved and my farmer's tan is well on its way to winning a Redneck Award, I still feel bad that I haven't spent much time indoors to post on occasion.

3. Saying goodbye to the single life

Yep. Sad to say to all my group bunny fans out there, but Shanshu has effectively taken himself off the market. That means I can't pleasure some of you the way in which you're accustomed to...and that includes your mom.



I totally proposed. She totally said yes. We're totally engaged.

Double WOOT.

So needless to say, that's taken up some of my time lately, as we've had to tell family and friends and start looking at churches and buy wedding books and watch bullshit sappy wedding shows on TLC that make me want to puke up my own spleen.

Guess who's idea the wedding shows are.




In any case, I've been up to my large testes in stuff to do around here, and blogging hasn't entered into my daily "To Do" list.

It's a fucking shame, and I mean to rectify the situation. I'm going out of town tomorrow to visit my buddy PJ in Atlanta.

BUT...when I return, I promise to do my best to keep up with the blogging and keep you all entertained to the best of my ability. Either that, or I'll post pictures of naughty things or whatever.

Please don't leave me. I love you all.

Hugs and kisses on all your pink parts,

Shanshu

:)

The "Fuck You" of the Week

This guy is my new hero. Apparantly, Verizon Wireless quoted him a price of .002 CENTS per each kilobyte of wireless usage while in Canada. They charged him .002 DOLLARS, instead. Obviously the dollar amount is correct, but the fact that Verizon REFUSES to admit a difference between dollars and cents is.....FUCKING HILARIOUS.

So listen to the video below. It's his actual call into Verizon to clarify the situaion and explain simple math to them. It's priceless.



THEN check out the picture below. It's his payment to Verizon after all this crap is over with. Be sure to read the memo.

Classic.

Cabin Air Filters and Bullshit

So, I took my car in for an oil change the other day. Nothing special, just your everyday, run-of-the-mill* oil change service appointment. I am usually not particular about where I get my oil changed, so usually it's just random where I end up going. For this particular time, it was Jiffylube.

I took my car in, and sat in the waiting room watching women's downhill skiing on the complementary TV. Besides the fact that we were watching women's downhill skiing, the other thing that sucked complete ass was the fact that the waiting room was colder than...than the snow that you use to ski downhill, like in women's downhill skiing for instance.

Cold and obscure sporting events aside, the wait wasn't long so that was good. Soon I had one of the grease-laden Jiffy employees coming to greet me in the waiting room of ice. I noticed that he was carrying an air filter under his arm as he sat down beside me.

Oh, shit.


JiffyBoy: Hey there, guy. Just wanted to let you know that the oil change looks good, and your car is doing fine.

Me: Well, that's good. We were all worried. How's she feeling after the procedure?

JiffyBoy: Uh...fine. You have a Honda, and those cars are built not to need maintenance. Besides the oil change, there's not much else we have to do!

Me: Yeah, well I'm sure you'll think of something.

JiffyBoy: Your air filter looks good, so we don't need to change that.

Me: Really? You oil change places always try to get me to replace my air filter! Are you sure it doesn't need to be replaced? Are you feeling ok?

JiffyBoy: No, no. The air filter is fine.

Me: So...why are you holding one?

JiffyBoy: Oh, this is your cabin air filter. And as you can see, it's dirty.

Me: Eh? My what?

JiffyBoy: Your cabin air filter. It's dirty.

Me: You lost me. What's a cabin air filter?

JiffyBoy: It's the air filter for your cabin.

Me: My cabin? You mean the thing at the front of airplanes?

JiffyBoy: Yeah, except this cabin is for your car.

Me: So...by "cabin" you are referring to the inside of my car?

JiffyBoy: Yes. Anyway, your cabin filter is dirty, so we can go ahead and replace that for you.

Me: Ahh that sounds more like the JiffyLube I've come to know. Now we're back to normalcy. No, I don't need my interior car air filter replaced, thanks.

JiffyBoy: It's a CABIN air filter, and it should be replaced. It's important to your breathing.

Me: My breathing? It filters the air INSIDE my cabin, correct?

JiffyBoy: Exactly!

Me: So, would you say it's safe to say that this air filter device helps to screen out the negative particles in the air that is present within my car interior?

JiffyBoy: It's a CABIN, but yes that about sums it up.

Me: So, we can therefore state that the air filter in question is filtering the air that comes into my car from the outside? You're saying this helps to filter the outside air that travels into the comfort of my driving cabin.

JiffyBoy: Yes!

Me: That's stupid.

JiffyBoy: What?

Me: That's stupid. You can't filter the "outside" air. That's just...air! You can't filter regular air. It's not like the air filter is going to save me from smog or smoke or pollen. The second I open my car door, I'm breathing it in again.

JiffyBoy: Yes, but while you're driving you'll be breathing better. Trust me, it makes sense and you want to do this. It's only $31.99 to replace it.

Me: No. Go away.

JiffyBoy: But...

Me: No, no. I don't want it. I like to breathe air. It's been good to me, and we've been together since I was a baby. I like it just the way it is. Please don't take away my childhood.

JiffyBoy: Fine. But if you stop breathing one day, it'll be the air filter being dirty that kills you.

Me: Noted.


Needless to say, I did not purchase the $32 "cabin air filter" that they suggested. I called up some friends and nobody else had ever heard of a cabin air filter, either. So I'm not just stupid or ignorant of a car's inner workings.

It was just lame. If this happens to you, be strong and JUST SAY NO TO CABIN AIR FILTERS!






*What the hell does "run-of-the-mill" mean,anyway? Where did we get that saying?

This Sucks

You know, for a long time I've day-dreamed about what it would be like to NOT have to go into the office day after day. I would sit in my cubicle and imagine how great it would be if I could just leave the office and go play. I would think about playing golf or shopping or going out to eat with friends and family. I thought about all of the projects I would get done, and how much fun it would be to be outside and enjoying the world around me.

Yet here I sit.

The fucking weather is not cooperating with my time off work plans. Everyday it has been cold and rainy and cloudy and depressing. I've found myself cooped up in my apartment with no real plans and nothing exciting to do.

Good thing I have the Wii to keep me occupied. But even that starts to get old, after a while. I find myself being BORED while I'm off work and that just sickens me. I can't believe I finally got my dream of having time off work...and I have nothing to show for it.

This fucking sucks.

What kind of things should I do to occupy my time? Any thoughts?

Wii Tennis

The Nintendo Wii is TOO much fun.




Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!

How I spent my "Take This Job and Shove it" Bonus Money

Can't talk right now.


Busy.


:)