October 31, 2004


Since I'm going to be here for a while, I thought it was time to do a little redecorating. My friend CP came over two weeks ago and helped me figure out some things to do. Thought I'd share the progress.

These are pictures of the old living room setup:

And here is the old "dining room":

New dining room: Turned the table, moved bookshelf from living room, and moved golf clubs. I'm going to have a friend paint me a Leroy Neiman-like painting of "The Greatest Bike That's Never Ridden" to hang on the back wall.

Here's the new living room. I'll be adding pictures of family, both current and old, in the future, plus a print of some type over the couch.

Oh...and in case you're wondering, this is "The Greatest Bike That's Never Ridden":

More pictures to come as I start getting things organized.

Posted at 08:07 PM | Comments (2)

October 29, 2004


You know something? I don’t think I’m going to be good at this relationship stuff. I wasn’t good at it way back when and I find myself not being good at it now.

I fine myself attracted to people I can’t have either because of distance, or past experience, or being out of their league, or just being friends for a long time. I make bad choices when it comes to this stuff and sometimes try and force the issue, which only leads to me feeling empty and alone. I develop the crush, and then envision the romance, the need, the want, but I don’t take time to envision the obstacles. I figure you can overcome anything if you want to, but I know that it’s just not practical sometimes. You can’t sustain a relationship on email, phone calls, and occasional visits. I had someone very wise tell me that, and even though I didn’t really want to believe it, I knew it was true.

Another reason I won’t be good at this is, well…I don’t like the person who looks back at me in the mirror. He’s too fat, his face is too round, he’s too hairy, and yet he has no motivation to change any of it. Sure, he’ll get ready to change, but he just never follows through. And no, this is not new, but it’s gotten worse lately. There is a lot of planning, and buying, and wishing for change, but he just can’t find the proper change agent. High blood pressure, high cholesterol, several months of visits to chiropractors, and none of it seems to be a motivating factor. The face in the mirror swears he’s not going to end up like his Mother; alone, overweight, and depressed, but he’s sure not doing anything to change it. Until he learns to like himself, he can’t and doesn’t expect any else to like him.

I know this is not the kind of stuff you’ve come to expect at 3leggeddog, but this is the only place I can get it off my chest. This is my support system. I can say the things that are rolling around in my head, keeping me up at night. Sometimes feeling sorry for yourself feels really, really good. It’s when you start to like the feeling that things can get out of hand. Don’t worry, Dear Reader, I’m not going off the deep end any time soon. I’ve just had a tough week, caused someone I care about some pain, and now I’m handling it the way that I’ve come to enjoy. Writing it out. It’s cathartic and that’s just what I need. It’s gotten too damn expensive to drive around for hours listening to music so instead I fire up the browser and put words down for others to read. I’m not going to proofread this like I normally do. It’s become a stream of consciousness thing with Maroon 5 playing in the background and proofreading just seems wrong.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take my “feeling sorry for myself” cd, pop it into the truck’s cd player, and burn a tank of gas. Yeah, it’s been one of those weeks and writing alone ain’t gonna cut it.

Posted at 03:33 PM | Comments (9)

The Coconut

I’ve written about 6 different entries for The Coconut and they all sucked. Let’s just say that the Coconut is that one person in your office that everyone hates, but Management won’t do anything about. She’s the causer of problems, the stirrer of shit, the finger pointer, blame layer, and all-around pain in the ass. We call her the Coconut because she's got short, brown, thin hair that looks like the husk on a Coconut. Yeah, it's cruel, but who gives a crap?

She’s always one step removed from the trouble that she starts. She puts her nose into everyone’s business, but gets pissy if you say something bad about her group. She does shit half-assed then blames others when it doesn’t work. If something goes wrong, the first thing she does is look to assign blame rather than to actually solve the problem. She is one of only two people in this world that I wouldn’t piss on if she was on fire.

She’s had more people quit than anyone in the company, yet they keep her around. We had one guy quit who didn’t even have another job. He just quit. When I complained about something she did to our department Vice President, his response was, “Well, I know what she’ll say. She’ll tell me it was a misunderstanding. She always says it’s a misunderstanding.” Huh?!? You mean people have complained enough that you know what her response will be? Geez, man, that’s some stellar management skills you have. FIRE! HER!

I cannot tell you how much I dread this trip to Chicago. Just the sound of her voice is enough to make me sick. It’s one of those syrupy-sweet, high-pitched voices that makes you want to shove red-hot pokers in your ears so you don’t have to listen anymore. Maybe I can get sick or something between now and then so I won’t have to go. Ugh. This is going to suck big, hairy donkey balls.

And, uh, oh yeah. I hired her.

Posted at 02:19 PM | Comments (4)

October 28, 2004

Big Excitement

"Dude, they're zapping the fish."
"They. Are. Zapping. The. Fish."
"Huh...OH! OH!...I'll be right down."

They're draining the lake we have in front of our office so they can widen the roads. The company was nice enough to let us catch many of the fish before they drained it, but we couldn't get all of them. In comes an organization that specialized in pond management who's slogan is, "We take care of your liquid assets." Corny, but good.

In order to catch the remaining fish, a guy gets out into the lake/pond, drops some electrodes into the water and applies a mild electric shock to the fish. When they float to the top, he scoops them up in a net and transports them to their new home. Well, all except the catfish. He's going to get a nice egg and milk bath, then be lovingly covered with corn meal. Then take a nice, hot bath.

It's amazing the things that fascinate us, isn't it?

Posted at 03:13 PM | Comments (0)

October 27, 2004

The Emperor's New Clothes

Well, I figured it would happen, but was really hoping it wouldn't. They hemmed the sleeves of my jacket incorrectly. The right is noticably higher than the left...and I'm not really sure which one is incorrect. And no, I didn't try it on in the store. Like a dumbass, I waited till I got home. Strangely enough, this is not the first time this has happened.

Since this seems to be turning into Shitty Day, Part Deux, could whomever is pissing in my Cheerios to please stop. I'm starting to get crabby. Please don't make me crabby. You wouldn't like me when I'm crabby.

Posted at 05:57 PM | Comments (2)

October 26, 2004

Work Tip #7

It is important to note that when working on the laptop of a Vice President you should not follow the phrase "Trust me" with "Oh, that wasn't good, but I can recover it. I think."

Posted at 02:24 PM | Comments (1)

A steam roller?!?

Of all the dumbass, moronic, idiotic, lame-brained, dick-headed, brain-dead, dumb motherfucking things to do, this has got to be one of the top 3.

Some lameass, shit-for-brains, donkey-fucking idiot of a road worker decided that it would be a good day to drive his steam roller to work. On a two-lane road. In the middle of fucking rush hour. A steam roller. A fucking STEAM ROLLER! The damn thing maybe did 5 mph the whole time for 2 1/2 fucking miles. Did I mention that the limp-dicked, pox-infested, cock-gobbler was driving a fucking steam roller? On a two-fucking-lane road? In the middle of the fucking RUSH HOUR!

Oh man, I was so mad. It was all I could do to not pull over, run up to that moron, and throw him under the wheels of his steam roller. I may not be the fastest man on the planet, but I sure as shit could have caught this assmunch because he was going 5 fucking miles per hour. On. His. Fuck. Ing. Steam. Roller.

Posted at 09:26 AM | Comments (4)

October 25, 2004

Where's the price tag?

I learned a valuable, and somewhat expensive, lesson the other day. I realized that if you walk into a store where the price tags are discreetly hidden, you'll walk out of that store quite a bit poorer than when you walked in.

I went to a local "gentleman's" store to get a new blazer. None of the ones I have fit anymore...they're actually too small in the shoulders, so I guess going to the gym every other week really works. Found an awesome black blazer which fit extremely well and although it was more than I wanted to spend, the guy knocked $50 off of it for me. Great, so I went ahead and bought a shirt, tie, and pair of slacks. Um...the shirt was $135. A single long-sleeve shirt with button-down collar was $135. When did I realize this? When he was ringing it up.

I won't tell you what the rest of it cost 'cause I'm a bit embarassed about it. The only thing I'll say is that I buy clothes like this very rarely since I don't wear them that often and I think of this as a long term purchase. I'd better think of it as long term since I'll be paying on it for a while. So, for all of you that were ignorant like me, I offer this advice; If the price tag can't be found, or it's printed in very small font, run like hell to your nearest JC Penney.

I will say this though...I look really good in the jacket and slacks. Isn't that what it's all about?

Posted at 02:35 PM | Comments (4)

October 22, 2004


Since y'all wanted more dog pics, I thought I would comply. This is a picture of Fancy during the first week we had her. Remember that in the month before we got her, she'd had heart worm treatments, a litter of puppies, and surgery to remove her leg.

And here she is now.

Posted at 06:17 PM | Comments (3)

Work Tip #73

If you work with several former stoners, it is best to hide the baggies you use to bring your morning bagel to work. Too many of those lying around will give the former stoners bad flashbacks and cause them to hang around your office staring forlornly at the sad, empty baggie.

Posted at 04:43 PM | Comments (0)


Sorry for the lack of posts, Dear Reader, but it seems that 3leggeddog was at the vet for most of the day yesterday which is why you couldn't reach us.

Today, I've been a bit distracted by other things so posting will have to wait till later. I need some serious stress relief, anyone have any suggestions?

Also, does any know if I need a passport to go to Canada or will a driver's license work? I'm thinking of taking a quick vacation away from this nut house and Canada seems about as far away as I can go for the moment.

Posted at 03:03 PM | Comments (7)

October 20, 2004


I've been de-virginized! Uh, I mean Harold has been de-virginized. A grande Cafe Vanilla Frapawhateveryoucallit! The damn thing gave me an industrial-sized brain freeze that hurt like hell. It sure was tasty, though.

Oh, and before I forget, I'm working on a post that talks about The Coconut.

Posted at 03:38 PM | Comments (5)


I was just informed that I must go to Chicago for a one-day trip, which is great since I love Chicago.

Now the bad news. I have to go with our Assistant Vice President, which won't be too bad, the girl in charge of purchasing, who is really nice. And. My. Nemesis. The Coconut. Imagine Superman traveling with Lex Luthor, Spiderman traveling with the Dr. Oct, and me traveling with The Coconut.

Can someone please send me some Prozac and an clean, small-caliber weapon?


Posted at 01:03 PM | Comments (2)

October 19, 2004

Cold-weather food

It ain't exactly cold today, but I decided to make this anyway.

Old Fashioned New Orleans Style Chicken Stew

1 package Zatarain's Gumbo Mix
1 lb Boneless chicken, diced
1 1/2 cup Potatoes, diced
1 cup Carrots, sliced
1 cup Celery, diced
1 cup Onion, diced
Sauté chicken in oil until light brown. Add vegetables and sauté 2 minutes. Add Zatarain's Gumbo Mix and 5 cups water. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Serves 6

I'll probably double the batch and throw in a pound of smoked sausage. Mmm...If you bring some garlic bread, you can come join me. Or dessert.

UPDATE: This. stuff. ROCKS! Well, except for the freakin' hour it took me to slice and dice all the ingredients. And, yes, I did add some smoked beef sausage...which brings me to a question...Isn't smoked sausage ready to eat? Apparently, smoked sausage made from beef isn't. I mean, jeez louise, who would have thought that you had to cook it? It's smoked. Yeah, sure, the hunk I cut off was a bit mushy, but I thought it was just, you know, supposed to be like that. Luckily, I read the package after eating that piece and sure enough, it said "cook thoroughly"...in really small letters.

Posted at 03:20 PM | Comments (2)

Dog Pic

Thought I'd share a pic of the "three-leggers" for those of you that may be new to the site and have not seen them together. Trey, the black one, is the male and the first one we got. Fancy, the white one, is the female and she, of course, was the second 3ld.

Yes, they are missing the same leg, but that was purely coincidence, I promise.

Posted at 11:14 AM | Comments (5)

Morning Wood Week 6

Well, Dear Reader, the Wood is 4-2 and tied for third. We won this week mainly because the opposing team's coach didn't change any of the players who had a bye week. Hey, I'm not complaining. A win is a win. We still scored 'cause we still scored over 60 points, which is good enough in this league to win any day.

All in all, the Wood is holding strong...and that's a good thing.

Posted at 11:02 AM | Comments (1)

October 18, 2004

King of the Castle

On Friday, Dooce had another great post on "poop". I don't know how, but not only can she make poop interesting, she then has the ability to get over 500 comments from others about their poop. That's FIVE HUNDRED comments on poop alone, people. 500 hundred.

Anyway, I digress. Dooce (I don't know her well enough to call her Heather) then goes on to mention that according to a book someone sent her (yes, it's about poop) that a normal human should be able to poop in under two minutes or six at the most. Of course, she then wonders how most, if not all, men can take over 30 minutes. Well, ladies, I'm here to tell you.

We take 30+ minutes for one, simple reason. Quiet time. Yes, that's the secret to our marathon sitting sessions. Who in their right mind is going to bust in on us whilst we're on our Porcelain Throne? We are truly Kings of our Castle when we place our posterior on that cool, comfortable seat. Why, ladies, where do you think the term "I'm on the throne" comes from?

Ladies, you know that for those thirty minutes we are not to be disturbed. If you attempt to disturb us, you'll be met with one of the following:

I wouldn't come in here without a haz mat suit on if I were you.
I'm peelin' the wallpaper off the wall so I'd give it a few minutes.
Holy cow, I think I just gave birth to twins!
Oh my God, a whole slice of pepperoni.

Now, chances are good that a) it doesn't really stink, b) we're not done with the sports page yet and need a few more minutes, c) we're in the middle of a good chapter, or d) we've got the new Victoria's Secret catalog...and need a few more minutes. Whatever the reason, a well-placed poop comment will get us that precious few moments we need.

Yes, it is true that there are women out there who will breach our defenses, but I guarantee they don't do it often. We seem to have a sixth sense concerning break-ins and if you attempt to enter our Kingdom, we will make it so bad that you'll end up running down the hall trying not to woof your cookies. "Wait, come back, Sweety, I want you to see how the corn is still whole!".

In conclusion, I'm sure many of you are saying, "that's the nastiest thing I've ever heard" and you know what? You're absolutely right, it is. But hey, we're men. It's what we do.

Posted at 06:46 PM | Comments (2)

October 15, 2004

Sort of a virgin

I have this friend that we'll call, uh, Harold. Harold's a nice guy, people like him, he's pretty funny, and works hard, sometimes. Problem is, Harold is not what most people would call "cool" or "hip" or "in the know". He wants to be, but he doesn't know how.

Case in point. Howard Harold is sort of a a virgin. No, not like that, but in another less noticable way. You see, Harold has never, um, well, you see, uh, hehe...um, Harold has never been to...a..uh...Starbucks.

Now don't laugh at poor Harold. It's not that he's scared of it, it's just that he's never done it. Ever. He knows that lots of people do it everyday and some truly lucky people do it more than once a day, but poor Howard Harold doesn't even know where to start.

Harold's a good guy, but he's really nervous about it and wants to make sure his first time is enjoyable and not too painful. Harold would hate to be laughed at the first time he does it. Why, that just might cause Harold to never do it again. I'm sure many of you out there would like to see Harold do it right the first time, so I'm asking for your help.

Would you be kind enough to share your first time with me Harold? You know, give him some pointers on what to do or not do? Some of the things that he should stay away from until he has more, um, experience under his belt. I think this would help the poor guy out tremendously.

Posted at 08:14 PM | Comments (6)

Read the fine print

We had a huge giveaway of old PC, monitors, printers, etc that have been taken out of production. The machines are freely given to any user who wants one. The stipulation is that you are getting it "as is". If you don't like it when you get it home, too bad, so sad, see ya later. The other stipulation is once it leaves the building, we, the PC Support Group, do not work on them anymore. That's DO NOT work on them anymore. DO. NOT. DON'T WORK ON THEM. DON'T.

Yep, you guessed it. First thing this morning one of the ladies from accounting brings in the laptop she grabbed. "It's not working." And? We have to fix it. *sigh* Idiots.

Posted at 11:22 AM | Comments (0)

October 14, 2004

It begs the question "Why?"

Now this is pretty funny.

I wonder if they have one in a three-legged model?

Posted at 03:28 PM | Comments (2)

October 13, 2004

It's gone

Just an FYI. I removed 3leggeddog.typepad.com today. I forgot to cancel it and the fine folks at Six Apart charged me $184 for an advanced account. Thanks, but no thanks. I am much happier right where I am.

If any of you have me linked, could you please change the link to 3leggeddog.mu.nu? I could use the traffic. :)

Posted at 05:16 PM | Comments (2)

Inventory Form

I had to fill out a form today to move a PC from one location to another. It was one of those forms that had "If you answered "no" to question 2, go to question 7. If you answered "yes" to question 2, go to question 12. If you didn't answer question 2, go to question 3." Exactly. About as understandable as the tax code.

Being the humorous guy I am, I composed my own set of instructions.

If you answered "no" to Questions 5, 7, AND 9, move on to question 12. If you can't answer question 12, go back and remove your answer to question 2. If you didn't answer question 2, then copy the answer for question 4 and put it in question 2. If question 4 is blank, write in your mother's maiden name. If you don't know who your mother is, write in the name of your dog. However, if your dog is dead, please fill out supplemental form, 1267-Alpha-7-Stroke-9, entitled "My dog is dead and I can't answer question 4" and provide a copy to your local Inventory Control Specialist. In the event that your Inventory Control Specialist has already been killed by me for having to fill out this hairy piece of shit, then please fill out form 1955-Charlie-11-Stroke-11, entitled "Payroll deduction for the 'Get Howard out of Jail' Fund".

Posted at 03:02 PM | Comments (1)

October 12, 2004

Final Judgment

It looks so strange in black and white...

The bonds of matrimony heretofore existing between the parties, Howard X and (spouse's name removed), be and the same are hereby dissolved, and the parties are hereby dissolved, and the parties are hereby granted a divorce absolute to and from one another on the grounds of Irreconcilable Differences.

You know what, though? I'm actually doing pretty good. As I've said before, once the final final decision was made, it took a lot of pressure off. Now it's time to move on.

I've got a friend coming over to help me get my apartment, um, fixed up (notice I didn't say "decorated"). I'm getting my finances in order so I can finally stop making payroll for Visa.

Biggest surprise of all? I've got a support system, which I've never had before. It feels good to unload once in a while and I've also gotten some great advice from others. Thank you, support system.

And so we fondly bid farewell to my life that was and look forward to my life that will be. Care to come along for the ride?

Posted at 02:37 PM | Comments (7)

October 11, 2004

Work Tip #67

If your former Manager happens to be a member of your Fantasy Football League and said Manager appears in your doorway to gloat about beating your team this weekend, it is acceptable, but not advisable, to reply, "Well, I'm happy to know that beating my Morning Wood could bring you such pleasure."

Posted at 01:44 PM | Comments (1)

And we're done

You remember that reconciliation that I mentioned between me and the spouse? It ain't gonna happen. We basically came to the conclusion, well, she did anyway, that the whole talk of reconciliation was based on the fact that I was stressed out about my Mom. I can't say she was wrong.

I thought the hard part would be letting go. Actually, that's the easy part. The hard part is getting up the courage to say "we gotta end this". Once the decision is made, it gets easier to deal with.

There was not one thing (or person) in particular that prompted me/us to finalize the divorce. I didn't want it to turn into this bitter dispute, but in reality folks, there's no such thing as a "nice" divorce. It's easier to do this if we don't see each other or I don't go play with the dogs. I hate that part because I really, really miss my dogs, but it'll be better for me in the long run.

Anyway, I just thought I'd let you in on the whole thing.

Posted at 01:23 PM | Comments (2)

October 10, 2004

Geaux Tigers!

Oh yeah, baby! Upset city!

LSU 24 Florida 21

Posted at 07:52 PM | Comments (0)

October 08, 2004

Work Tip #20

Naming servers after the planets can have unintended benefits. For example, you can utter the phrase, "We're not getting email because it keeps getting caught by Uranus" and not get fired. In addition, you get to follow up with, "The only solution is to figure out how to bypass Uranus" and "If we don't do anything, Uranus will get clogged and then be useless".

Posted at 01:32 PM | Comments (6)

October 07, 2004

From the mouths of babes

I was out of bagels this morning so I had to make a stop at the local bagelry to replenish. As I walk towards the bagel place, I see the cutest little blonde girl, about 2 years old, standing on one of the booths inside the store. I get a bit closer, notice her waving, so I wave back. Side note: Not sure why, but I’ve been attracting the attention of blondes, lately. Who knew I was such a blonde magnet. :) Anyway, I wave again and she waves back. I walk into the store, turn right, and see the little cutie with her Mom and Dad. As I walk past, I hear her greet me:

“Good Morning, Daddy.”

I kept walking because it took a minute to register. The “Good Morning” came through loud and clear, but my brain failed to grasp the last word in that sentence. When it finally got it, I stopped dead in my tracks. Her Mom and Dad were laughing, and when I turned to look at them, the little blondie looked me right in the eye and said it again: “Good Morning, Daddy.“ I started laughing and said, “Man, now THAT will wake you up in the morning.” Her parents were still laughing and tried to apologize. I told them it was fine and thought it funny. We chatted for a second or two, and then I headed to the counter to place my order. I heard her say it one more time while I was in line, and then they left a few minutes later.

You wanna know the weird thing? I kinda liked hearing it.

Posted at 01:02 PM | Comments (2)

October 06, 2004

Morning Wood Week 4

Good news, Sports Fans, the Morning Wood is 3-1, coming off an impressive victory over Mojo Rising. It turns out that for this week anyway, they had no mo mojo. At the end of Week 4, we are in a 5-way tie for 3rd. Our next game is against Bang!, who happens to be the leader in this group of 5. Keep your fingers crossed 'cause the bye week for Philly takes away our defense. I had to pick up San Fran, but they ain't so hot.

In related news, the Wood, as we like to call them, has beaten two out of the three women who play in our league. It is rather refreshing, really, to point out the fact that they have been spanked by my Morning Wood. The combined looks of disgust and disappointment are certainly worth it. Not sure if I'll be playing the 3rd woman but if so, I'm sure she'll crumble under the weight of my Wood just like the others.

In closing, I just want to remind everyone that I will be taking my Wood in hand this weekend and hopefully leading them to the promised land.

Posted at 02:30 PM | Comments (0)

Vegetation Vandal Re-redux

Well friends, it happened again. The philodendron we've been monitoring so closely has nary a leaf left. It's hanging in there, but does not seem to have the strength to generate new growth.

People around here are starting to get angry. If it happens once, fine, no big deal. When it happens again, though, then that's going to become a problem. Several lynch mobs were seen roaming the halls this morning, but the perp has not been found. We have no clues, no weapon, no motive, and now, no leaves. The lone survivor has been put into the Witness Protection Program and is said to be living happily as a cactus in Secaucus, New Jersey. Don't say anything, though, because that's supposed to be a secret.

If you get a minute, go home and give your plants a nice drink of water and a little Miracle Grow. You never know when it could happen to you.

UPDATE: There is a new plant in his office...and a webcam. You cannot imagine the ideas that are floating around here. Some folks are talking about going in with a Clinton mask on, others are saying we should re-enact The Orient Express and everyone cuts a single leaf, while still others are figuring out ways to rig up GI Joe dolls with the Kung Fu grip and a pocket knife. Production has pretty much come to a screeching halt. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to sew a pair of scissors onto my Janus the Muppet doll. Seems ol' Janus is going to do a little cuttin'.

Posted at 02:19 PM | Comments (0)

October 05, 2004

Penetration Designation

Certified Penetration Testing Professional. That is so me. I could be one of the World's greatest Penetration Testers.

If you'd like a free Penetration Consultation, please call me at 1-888-PENETRATE

Posted at 04:20 PM | Comments (1)

The Voice

I’m sure everyone has what he or she calls their “Inner Voice”. It’s the little voice that says, “Get out and help that old woman” or “You can afford to donate more so do so”. For me, however, that little voice is usually very quiet. It’s the other voice that is loudest. You know, the one that says “Say it! Sure it’s cruel, but you’ll get a laugh!” or “You’re damn right we’re going to key that bastard’s car”.

Most rational people listen to that voice less often. I, on the other hand, hear it loud and clear. My friends have taken to calling that particular one “The Voice”. And yes, you can hear the capital “V” when they say Voice. This story happened in late October of 2001 and will hopefully illustrate which Voice gets the most attention.

It was a beautiful, sunny day. My Supervisor, we’ll call him Bob, and I were coming back from lunch when I realized that I needed to get the oil changed in my truck. Since it was a Friday, I didn’t think it would hurt to take a few extra minutes and wait for it. Bob, being the conscientious guy that he is, figured it would be best if we went back to the office and that he’d carry me over there after work to pick it up. That was fine with me.

It was an incredibly slow, boring day. Nothing was going on at all. I was bored out of my mind, which usually gets me in trouble. To make matters worse, it was the second day of our annual tournament and lots of folks were there. Everyone it seemed, but Bob and me.

As we’re pulling out of the oil change place, The Voice says, It’s too nice to go back to work. You will go to the golf tournament.

“We should go to the golf tournament,” I said. “It’s too nice to be stuck in the office.”

His head slowly turned towards me and I could see the wheels spinning behind his eyes. “Hmm…Arial (our supervisor) is out of the office this afternoon.”

Did she take her laptop with her?

“Did she take her laptop with her?”

“Yes, she did,” he replied.

Then she’s probably gone for the rest of the day.

“Then she’s probably gone for the rest of the day,” I said, hopefully

“She probably is,” he says, turning into traffic. I notice that we’re heading back to the office.

If someone needs you, they can page you. You have your cell phone.

“If someone needs us, they can page us and we can call them back on my cell.”

Buick is giving away free golf shirts.

“You know, I’ve heard Buick is giving away free golf shirts.” Geeks will never turn down free shit.

He turns to look at me, and I can see the smile on his face. We pass by the office and head for the interstate. Jackpot.

BWAHAHAHAHAHA! Victory is mine!

He looks at me, “Did you say something?”

“Uh, nope. Must have been the radio.”

We get to the tournament, park the car and approach the shuttle that will take us to the course. Getting off is a former employee, who just happens to be the King of Free Shit.

“Hey, fellas. Watchall doin’ here?”

“Hey, Mark, just came by to get some free shirts from Buick. What are you up to?”

“Oh man, sorry to tell you guys this, but I just got the last shirt. I think they’re giving away a sleeve of balls or some cheap crap like that.”


“Uh…uh…damn, that’s too bad. I guess we’ll go see anyway. Thanks.”

“See ya’ fellas,” he says, walking towards his truck.

He did not see you here.

“Hey Mark,” I yelled, “If you run into anyone we know, you never saw us, right?”

“Sure thing,” he laughs, “I never saw you.”

That becomes our mantra for the day.

“Hey man, how’s it going? We’re not really here.”

“Wow, what a shot. Huh? No, we just came out to see what’s going on. HEY! You never saw us, right?”

“We’re playing hooky. No, really, we are. But you never saw us.”

We’ve been at the tournament for about half an hour when my pager goes off. I check it, but don’t recognize the number. My years of training as a computer support tech immediately kick in and I perform the one action that all self-respecting computer geeks do when they don’t recognize the number; I delete it.

After about 10 minutes, Bob’s pager goes off.

“Who is it?,” I ask.

“It’s Josh,” he says, “I wonder what he wants.”

Josh is an idiot. You will ignore the page.

“What would Josh want? I think he’s just messin’ with us. I’d ignore it.”

Bob agrees that Josh is probably messing with us and deletes the page.

Thirty minutes later, we decide to head back. Considering the hour for lunch, drive time to the course and our time spent wandering around, we’ve been gone close to 2 ½ hours. As we’re walking to the truck, my pager goes off again. It’s the same number as before, and I still don’t recognize it. Training kicks in, message deleted. Bob’s pager goes off about two minutes later.

“Dammit, Josh, quit freakin’ paging me. It can’t be that important.” I can tell he’s getting irritated.

“Here, call him on my cellphone,” I say as I hand him the phone.

“Hey, Josh, it’s Bob. Uh huh. Yeah. At the golf tournament. Oh really? OK. Sure. Bye.”

“What was that all about?”

“He says Arial is looking for us,” a slightly worried tone in his voice.

She is gone for the day. Do not fear. She took her laptop.

“She’s gone, dude. She took her laptop, didn’t she? He’s just messin’ with us.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says, “I bet that’s it.”

About two minutes later, my pager goes off. It’s the wife so I give her a call.

“Hey, Butthead, what’s up? At the tournament. No, we just left. She is? Riiiight. Who told you that? Josh? Yeah, ok. Whatever he says. Bye.”

“What did she say?”

“She said Josh called and told her that Arial is looking for us. Damn, I didn’t think he was that smart,” I said, admiring Josh’s plan.

“What do you mean?,” he said, a bit confused.

The Voice is whispering this to me as I speak. “Dude. Think about it. Arial is gone for the day. We saw her take her laptop. Josh has no idea where we are so he decides to page us. To make it better, he mentions that Arial is looking for us. He knows we won’t believe him so he’s got to have someone else call, too. Who better than my wife? So, he has her call and say the same thing, ‘Arial is looking for you’. It’s brilliant. It’s EXACTLY what I would do if I wanted to fuck with someone. He just forgets that I’m the Master and he is just a grasshopper. It’s a good try, though. You gotta give him credit.”

Bob doesn’t really seem to buy this so The Voice gives him mantra number 2, which I repeat with conviction. “She took her laptop.”

We drive back in silence. I’m convinced that I’m on to them and am going to beat them at their own game. They have no idea who they’re dealing with. I invented the “have your wife call” trick years ago. The Voice says You da’ man!. Bob says nothing.

We get back to the office after being gone a little over 3 hours. As we’re walking in the door, one of the techs from another groups says, “Hey, where y’all been? Arial’s been looking for you.”

“Nice one,” I tell him, “but we already know she’s gone. She even took her laptop.”

“Apparently you got some bad information. She’s here.”

The Voice quickly takes stock of the situation, weighs its options and says See ya, Dude. You’re on your own.

Oh yes, folks. She was here and she was pissed. I snuck on back to my cube while poor Bob got an ass chewin’. As it turns out, she wasn’t pissed that we went AWOL, she was worried since no one heard from us in three hours and we didn’t answer our pages. Man, talk about feeling lower than a worm’s belly. I respect our boss a lot and felt bad for what we’d done so I ended up writing her an email apology (you don’t want to talk to her when she’s in this kind of mood). Fortunately, in a few days all was forgiven.

I’m sure you’re wondering what happened to The Voice. He was silent for a long time. Then came April Fool’s Day.

Posted at 01:40 PM | Comments (1)

Yes, we are

Why is it that when two or more men get together, the conversation is bound to turn towards the size, consistency, and frequency of our, um, turds?

I was sitting in my office this morning when one of my buddies comes in. We start talking about the golf tournament, college football, fantasy football, and other guy things. I happen to casually mention that I ate something bad in the cafeteria last night…and then it was on.

“You too? Oh man, my insides have been liquid for the past 4 days. I sit down and it’s like someone turned on the belly faucet full blast. And smell? Oh my God, I made myself gag.”

“You think that’s bad? Imagine trying to pass a fire hydrant wrapped in sticker bushes. The pain is tremendous! Childbirth is nothing compared to this. (yeah, we know it’s worse, but we gotta pretend we don’t).

“Believe me, I’ve been there. I was blocked up for three days after we got back from Louisiana. I thought I was going to have to get a pry bar and a cutting torch to get rid of it.”

“I with ya’, my man, I’m with ya’.”

At this point, another guy walks in, who just happens to be my Supervisor.

“Hey, you know they’re having free breakfast upstairs today, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m a bit leary. I’ve had the squirts for the last few days and am trying to take it easy.”

“You too? Dude, I gave birth to one of those Anacondas you see in the Amazon. I swear that thing must have been 12 feet long and pregnant. It was huge!”

And there you have it, folks. For sanity's sake, I’ll stop here. From this point, it was a battle to see who could “out poo” the other. Then, of course, we went upstairs and ate a free breakfast.

Are all men gross? Yes, we are. And those that say they aren’t? Liars. (they’re also the 2% of guys who say they don’t masturbate. They’re just f*in liars.).

UPDATE: As I'm posting this, my old supervisor walks in and says, "You know, there's nothing more satisfying than taking a dump on company time." Sweet.

Posted at 09:45 AM | Comments (4)

October 04, 2004

If you had $20 million

I sorta got this from Smitten.

If you won $20 million in the lottery, what would you do with it?

First, I'd endow a scholarship in honor of my Bub. The woman never finished 8th grade, but set aside money to make sure her grandkids could go to college.

Second, I'd quit my job. And not just quit, mind you. I'd go out in style. We're talking "sharing thoughts with all the idiots" kind of style. People would be talking about it at my funeral. "You remember that day Howard quit? Oh man, that was fan-fucking-tastic."

Third, I'd travel. There are lots of places I want to go; Ireland, Scotland, England, Australia, Africa (photo safari, mind you).

And last, I'd find me a wonderful woman, preferably a blonde genius who looks like Goldie Hawn. Well, I'd probably do this before I set sail to see the world. I mean, who wants to travel alone? If anyone knows a blonde-genius-Goldie-Hawn-lookalike, can you send her my way? Chances are slim to none that I'd win the lottery, but maybe I can find the woman first, then get the money.

You know what? Screw the money. Find me the woman.

Posted at 02:48 PM | Comments (1)

Vegetation Vandal Redux

The Vandal has struck again. Over the weekend, someone came in and cut off all but about 6 or 8 plant leaves. The plant looks really bad.

This place has become like a country under seige. The security guards are frisking everyone and confiscating all sharp objects. We've had to turn in our pencil sharpeners, letter openers, and staple pullers. These can be used to remove the leave from the stem and they're taking no chances whatsoever.

There's a rumor going around that they're going to start random chlorophyl tests. With my luck, I'm going to get busted.

Management: "Howard, you tested positive for chlorophyl this morning."

Me: "It's not mine. I don't do that stuff."

Management: "Well, your tests came back positive. This doesn't look good."

Me: "It was lettuce. I put lettuce on my sandwich and must have forgotten to wash my hands."

Management: "What about the knife in your desk drawer? We confiscated it and it tested positive too."

Me: "Uh. That's the, um, knife, I, um, used to cut the sandwich. It must have gotten some chlorophyl on it then."

Management: "Sure. We believe you. Can you step outside for a minute, please?"

Me: "Heh, heh. Sure. I'm sure this is all just a big mistake. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go look for the real killers...uh, I mean vandals."

Me: (dials phone) "Hello, Johnny C? Hey man, the test ain't legit and I'm in deep shit. I need you right now so I can beat this some how."

Johnny C: "Hold tighty, Whitey, I'm comin' alrighty. I'll befuddle those hicks and leave them holding their dicks. Don't worry, cracker, I'll mow 'em down like a weed whacker. Don't be scared, white mouse, Johnny C is in da hizzouse!"

Stay tuned!

Posted at 01:55 PM | Comments (0)

Funk-adelic Finish

If you're not a golfer, you might want to skip this cause it's about golf. Lots of golf. Lots of golf that came down to one putt on 18. Lots of golf that came down to one putt on 18 and I was right there when it happened.

What a fantastic tournament this year. In the final round, we had 5 golfers at 20 under with the leaders still on 15. Ryan Palmer nearly drains a 40 foot put for Eagle on 18, which would have put him at minus 22. He hit it to the lip of the cup...and it stopped. I thought the crowd noise would have pushed it in, but nope, it wasn't to be. Palmer finishes at 21 under for the tournament. I think we had 3 guys in the clubhouse tied at 20 when this happened. Talk about disappoinment.

The last group is Fred Funk, of the Ryder Cup team, and Chris Couch, who has to win to keep his card. Couch has had a great tournament, but is not going to win. Fred, on the other hand, birdies 16 to tie Palmer at minus 21, and then pars 17. He hits a great drive then flies the green on his second shot. This takes balls, in my opinion, and not the golf kind. There is water directly in front of the 18th green and quite a few guys had landed in it. Not Fred.

His putt for eagle falls about 4 feet short, so he's still got a putt for birdie, which'll put him at 22 under and clinch the win. Couch putts out and now it's all Fred. To say this was exciting is an understatment. Of course, Fred sinks it and becomes the second two-time winner of the Southern Farm Bureau Classic.

The exciting part for me was that I was almost right on top of the finish. I was doing ShotLink on the 18th green and got to see all of it up close and personal. Not only that, I was on the green for the check and trophy presentation, and was also able to get Fred's autograph. All in all, my friends, it was a truly excellent golf weekend.

Posted at 10:45 AM | Comments (1)