Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Speaking of...

Speaking of "speaking of"...

Just wanna take a second here to send a little shout-out to our old friend Diesel - who has been nominated as one of the 10 finalists in the 2008 Weblog Awards for Best Humor Blog.

Starting right now, you should go *here* to vote for Diesel at Mattress Police once a day, every day for the next 10 days. And if you do, he stands a good chance of being crowned the humoriest blogger on the web. And since he is indeed one of the humoriest bloggers I know, I believe he rightly deserves to win this esteemed award.

I feel I kind of owe him a little bloggy love since a very large portion of my traffic and new friends come from his Humor-Blogs.com site (the one I'm constantly bugging you about clicking the smiley thingy). But Diesel has also given me more than that. For instance:

Back in February '07 he was kind enough to invite me to contribute to his Central Snark website. Unfortunately, 3 months after I came on board it closed its doors.

Then, back in March '08 he once again invited me to be part of his Clay Pigeon Magazine editorial staff. However, just a few weeks later it was shut down as well.

Hmm, on second thought, I'm wondering if Diesel wants my endorsement after all.


Speaking of endorsements...

Kinda nice to be acknowledged for my efforts :-)



Speaking of magazines...

Oh my, what do they know that I don't know?!!!

Cover of a Catholic magazine we receive


Speaking of the end of things...

R.I.P.

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Sunday, January 04, 2009

Mr. Know-It-All

Hey everyone... it's that time again!

I've answered your questions before, and yet you still continue to keep asking them. All I can say is... be careful what you ask for!

Once again, we have a TON of questions to get through. So let's get started!

* * * * *

The first two questions were along the same lines, so I've answered them both with one answer.

Dear Mr. Know-It-All,
How do you know it all? How can I know it all??
- Regan

AND...

What don't you know, and how will you learn it?
- Mom Thumb

Dear Regan and Mom Thumb,
People often ask me how I so easily come up with all my answers, and the answer to that is simple. Like any qualified researcher or scientist, I use tools. And in my case, I use a sophisticated query processor I built myself way back in 1990 using two of the most powerful answer engines available at the time.

Magic 8086-Ball Processor (TM)

Since then I've found that no other resource - whether it be hardware, software, or webware - has been able to match my success rate of providing non-contestable answers to any question thrown my way.

* * * * *

Dear Mr. Know-It-All,
Where are my keys? Also, why are so few people that I actually would like to reconnect with on Facebook?
- Heather

Dear Heather,
First of all, I have your keys. Don't ask. Secondly, Facebook has an algorithm built into it to automatically bombard you with friend requests from everyone you've ever met - EXCEPT the people you really want to meet! It's all part of their attempt to get you to stay online longer and therefore be exposed to their ads for a longer period of time. Pure genius actually.

* * * * *

Dear Mr. Know-It-All,
How can the poop rules be applied to a public restroom as opposed to a work restroom?
- Mooselet

Dear Mooselet,
First of all, thank you for this question. I can't tell you how thrilled I am that someone has asked about poop. As most of my readers know, this is one of my favorite and most-published topics. You are obviously referring to this post where I describe in detail the best way to approach pooping in an office restroom in order to avoid the embarrassments that naturally ensue.

I think you'll find that nearly all of these tips are easily transferable to public restroom usage. But just in case you don't trust yourself to remember these crucial details, I will be happy to send you a laminated card complete with every tip listed on this sheet.

* * * * *

Dear Mr. Know-It-All,
How is it that my husband is only 6 years older than me (technically 5 1/3 but really six), yet we have such different memories of childhood?
- Michelle

Dear Michelle,
Well technically, you should have different memories of childhood - unless you and your husband were conjoined twins as children. However, there are two main reasons why this would be unlikely:
1. You are several years apart. The odds of your mother giving birth to only half of you while keeping the other half in her uterus for 6 years are very low.
2. Most conjoined twins who are separated as children rarely marry later on. I've only heard of one documented case and it was from Arkansas.

* * * * *

Dear Mr. Know-It-All,
Do you guys use studded tires in Minnesota?? And... Frosting or icing, which do you say?
- Elizabeth

Dear Elizabeth,
No, studded tires on automobiles have been outlawed because of the damage they do to the roads. However, studs are allowed on the following lighter types of rubber-ridden machines used in Minnesota during the winter:
- snow blowers
- motorcycles
- walkers
- unicycles
- prophylactics

Regarding the frosting/icing issue... we say "frosting" for the cake, and "icing" for the penalty.

* * * * *

Dear Mr. Know-It-All,
How did I ever manage to produce a son, with such a terrific sense of humor?
- Mom

Dear Mom,
Umm... remember when we had that awkward talk when I was 14 and YOU were supposed to be the one who explained everything to ME, but it ended up that I did all the explaining to you? Do we need to go over this again?

* * * * *

Dear Mr. Know-It-All,
You seem to be quite an authority on bathroom etiquette, so I am asking your opinion. Because many men enjoy wearing a wig and female clothing, should they use the mens or ladies washroom?
- Anonymous

Dear Anonymous,
Technically, you men should use the unisex or family restroom (preferably when there are no families in it), but if you men must insist on using a designated restroom, this newly created alternative should serve your their purpose just fine.

* * * * *

Dear Mr. Know-It-All,

We've all heard of String Theory but it's difficult to fathom. Can you help me fathom it?
- Jennine

Dear Jennine,
Believe it or not, I actually struggled with this one. Even my patented Magic 8086-Ball Processor couldn't churn out a good answer. So, being stumped as to how to solve this complex issue, I turned to the 2nd most infallible source of factual finding (after me) ... Wikipedia! I didn't feel so bad when even they didn't trust their findings.

Bottom line, you can read about what they said about it here. But if you ask me, it'll always be a mystery how they figured this out.

* * * * *

Dear Mr. Know-It-All,
Where can I get some codeine?
- JD

Dear JD,
I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there's no way I can tell you how to buy illegal substances on this blog. It is from people like Kathy where I learned my blogging ethics.

* * * * *

Dear Mr. Know-It-All,

Why do my neighbors get mad that I don't answer the door yet don't punish their stupid kid for knocking on my door and running away 50 times a day? Daily, for the past year? Am I supposed to open the door every single time just in case it's Stupid Kid's lazy dad wanting to borrow my phone? Because he'd rather spend his unemployment check on new subwoofers for his truck than on his phone bill?
- Memarie Lane

Dear Marie,
I worry that you're not fully communicating your feelings about this issue. It's a well known fact that harboring your emotions inside will only lead to stressful and angry feelings. Do yourself a favor and try to let it out.

Now, that being said, my recommendation is to go next door and give that boy and his father a big giant hug. Let them know that you're there for them. Tell them how you understand their concerns. Offer them your support. But most of all, remind them that if their bratty kid knocks on your door one more time you're going to blow like a shaken champagne bottle.

* * * * *

Dear Mr. Know-It-All,
LCD, DLP or Plasma? Also, what is a Black Cow? Why is it called that?
- Roger

Dear Roger,
I give blood on a regular basis, but I've been thinking about giving plasma because they actually pay you for the stuff! But I have no idea what type of contraption they would need to get LCD or DLP out of you - so my recommendation is to go with the plasma.

Regarding the Black Cow... I can't say it any better than this guy. Plus, he brings up an excellent question - what the hell flavor was the Pink Cow supposed to be? All I can remember about those is that they sucked.

* * * * *

Oh my... there were so many excellent questions last time that I'm going to have to split this into two posts. I'm really sorry Father Muskrat... you're just going to have to wait. But in the meantime, I suggest you wear one of those pine tree air fresheners in your pants.

* * * * *

Normally, advice of this caliber is very expensive. If you feel you've received value for this service, please offer a small payment in the form of a smile. Thank you!

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Friday, January 02, 2009

Time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping...

Well then... it's a brand new year with brand new opportunities AND brand new data!

That's right. I found this intriguing world clock on this web site today and I have to admit I'm a little more than captivated by it. If you click on the picture it will take you to a page where you can watch all these various numbers increase in real time as of a year ago, a month, week, day or as of right now depending upon which button you press at the top.


This app was originally written as part of a group of apps by poodwaddle.com, but shamblesguru was smart enough to combine several different data streams onto this one image.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get ready to go to the beach. Nevermind that it's only 16 degrees outside right now. According to this clock, the earth's temperature is rising at 1 billionth of a degree every second.

It'll be crazy hot around here in no time!

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Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Thank you... I'll be your entertainment for the evening.

So this last weekend my coworkers and I went out for our Christmas party to a fabulous bar and restaurant.

No, I take that back. The bar was fabulous. The restaurant? Not so much.

Why? Because my reuben sandwich was SOGGY. Total mush! Bleh! I expected much more from a place of this caliber.

Ok, I suppose I should mention, in all fairness to the restaurant, that my sandwich didn't start out that way. When I first received it, it was grilled to perfection - crispy on the outside and hot-n-gooey on the inside. Yum! Reuben heaven! But then something really odd happened...

As I was busy chatting it up with my friends, I grabbed the ketchup bottle off to my right, tipped it over my plate AND POURED BEER ALL OVER MY SANDWICH! Heh... turns out I wasn't paying close enough attention, and using my stellar periferal vision, I accidentally grabbed my beer bottle instead of the ketchup. Oops.


Still - I blame the restaurant. Someone should have caught my mistake, did a slow motion dive through the air and intercepted my tipped bottle before it ruined my sandwich. It seems you just can't find good wait staff any more.

The good news was, it really gave my friends the giggles. And not just for a few minutes... but for hours. And hours. And hours. And now apparently days as well.

And now I'm going to mark my calendar for early 2019...

... because 10 years is the average length of time it takes to live something down with these clowns.

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Sunday, December 28, 2008

Yes, I CAN quit whining about it now

My Christmas present from my wife. Thank you!

umm... do you think you could have cleaned the mirror first?

Expect more pictures soon.

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Friday, December 26, 2008

You can't make this stuff up

Last night we headed up to my parent's house for Christmas, and when we arrived they had a present waiting for me...

...a new blog post! Thanks mom and dad, I really needed one!

Apparently some friends of theirs wanted to go to Hawaii on vacation and didn't have anyone to babysit their dogs. Since Bill and Lois are so easily manipulated kind, they agreed to take care of their 2 little Yorkies for 2 weeks while they were gone. No big deal, right?

Nope, no big deal... unless you are asked to conform to a list of requirements even the writers of SNL couldn't have dreamed up.

Like the title says - you can't make this kind of thing up. Here are the actual printed instructions that were left with my parents on the care and feeding of their widdle pwecious wubby wooby moochums:

(you absolutely must click to enlarge)




















Just a few highlights in case you missed them...
  • If they need to go out earlier, they will woof at you or Lady will lick your face

  • Measure 1/2 cup soft dogfood. Add abt. 1 T. water. Microwave for 16-17 seconds.

  • Indy's blue bowl is on the right, Lady's pink bowl on LEFT.

  • If you walk, Lady always has to be on the right.

  • Always put the leash on Indy first.

  • I don't trust her not to piddle somewhere.

  • Indy would rather not sleep in the kennel and would love to sleep with you, but you don't have to let him.

  • HAVE FUN!
I'm not saying these people pamper their dogs or anything. I mean if your dogs were smart enough to be able to tell the difference between pink and blue food dishes, wouldn't you treat them a little extra special too?


*** UPDATE ****

After reading JerryChicken's comment, my dad burst out in laughter because guess what... the owners also provided a bag of ribbons and little outfits for when they "go outside." My parents were told they could change the ribbons if they wanted.


No really, you can't make this up.

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Monday, December 22, 2008

The wheels on the bus go round and round


















In exactly 3 hours my first-born child, my baby boy, my now grown-up son - will turn 18.

All I can say (besides, how the heck did that happen?) is... wow.

Brandon, your mom and I couldn't be more proud of you. You are one of the brightest, most thoughtful people we've ever known. You are destined to do great things, and we have no doubt you will.

We love you Brandon, and hope you have a wonderful and VERY

Happy Birthday!

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Saturday, December 20, 2008

The Original Bloggers

Long before there were blogs...

long before there were internets...

hell, long before there were even computers... people were writing posts and sharing them with their friends.

And to what am I referring? I'm talking about that rich annual tradition of writing and sending Christmas letters.

And if you think about it, this was very similar to what we're all doing here right now... blogging!

That's right. Except for the fact that the frequency of the posts were a little more sparse, they really weren't that much different. And how, you may ask, are Christmas letter-writers like bloggers?

Check it out...

people share too much personal information


people think they're clever and hysterical


if you don't reply with your own you'll eventually get dropped from their blogroll list


pictures look like crap because they have to be shrunk


one person writes the letter and publishes it without the consent of the rest of the family


everybody is always trying to make a better template border than the next guy


letters are usually way too long


the one person who writes the letter always picks out the picture that makes him or her look the best regardless of how the rest of the family looks


goal is to see how many other people's return comments letters you can collect on your wall


people are convinced everyone else will love what they wrote

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Thursday, December 18, 2008

Uh... how is this my problem again?

So Brandon smacks up his car. Yes we're all thankful no one was hurt, but beyond that - this is really just his problem.

He is the one who has to buy another car

He is the one who has to pay the insurance increase

He is the one who has to pay the fine

He is the one who has to figure out how to get back and forth between two different jobs and school without it affecting the rest of the family. FAIL!

Take this morning for instance... he needs one of our remaining two cars because he is taking finals this week and the first test didn't begin until late morning - so the rest of us have to figure out how to get: Charli to work, Roseanna to her school, Austin to his school and me to my job with one... count em... ONE car!

Me thinks the bus schedule will be showing up on the kitchen counter tonight.

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Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Sleeping with one eye open

A few weeks ago Charli was going through some old paperwork when suddenly she blurted out a stream of startled gibberish.

"Oh my god!... I'm not!... you're not!... I don't!... you don't!..."

I came running into the kitchen to see what all the stammering was about.

"Honey," she squeaked. "I don't have any life insurance out on you. YOU'RE NOT INSURED!!! If you were to die right now I'd have nothing!"

With all that excitement I was expecting something much more dramatic, like she had finally found out I was secretly married to another woman with 5 kids in Miami. But this paled in comparison.

"Huh... sucks to be you," I said nonchalantly as I opened the fridge in search of some pickles.

Apparently that wasn't a satisfactory answer because within 5 minutes she was on the phone with our insurance agent setting up an appointment for me "AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!"

"Really?" I whined. "Now I have to go to some stupid office downtown and answer a bazillion stupid questions and have a stupid exam... all so you can cash in on my untimely death? Sounds like a GREAT deal to me!"

Again... not a good answer. And after the speech about how our children were at risk that very moment of not being provided for, I was suddenly signed up to begin the process of becoming life-insured. Or death-insured - whichever way you want to look at it. Either way the whole concept boils down to nothing more than placing a bet that I'll expire before she does.

Not that the process isn't a total blast. I mean who doesn't like filling out reams of paperwork, answering ridiculously personal questions about your health, getting blood drawn, peeing in a cup (ok, that part was fun) and having an EKG done? I know I do!

But I suppose I should stop complaining, I know it's for the best. And of course my family will benefit should I suddenly get hit by a bus. Or fall down the stairs. Or choke on a turkey sandwich.

Or suffocate inexplicably while I'm sleeping.

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