My glamorous work took me on a journey across the Midwest today. About two hours and 18 ounces of soda into the drive I saw a billboard that caught my eye, and this time it wasn't for the Lion's Den. It was a simple billboard, all it had was a giant Bible and the words "God says read the Bible." This billboard entertained me for a solid half hour as I thought:
1. What a great twist on Simon says. God says read the Bible. God says be nice. God says go to church. Sodomy is okay. Haha, caught you, I didn't say God says... now GO TO HELL!
2. Prophecy has really gotten lazy and uncreative, like fortune cookies that don't tell fortunes anymore. "Hey Joe, this is God. Uh, It's Friday and I am on my way out to a 3:45 tee time. I hate to lay this on you, but I was supposed to reach out to my people via a prophecy today. Can you do me a huge favor? Let's just keep it simple, say, let's put a billboard in some random location on an interstate in the middle of nowhere. Don't strain yourself on the message, we don't want to cause that heart attack of yours to come a few years eaarly do we? Oops, shouldn't have hit the 19th yet. Anyway, just tell em I said to read the Bible. That should work for now."
3. Are illiterate people going to Hell since whoever wrote this sign thinks it is against God's wishes to not read?
Ultimately my thought process was broken by one overriding thought...I had to pee.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
This is How It All Starts
Efficiency is close to deity status at the workplace. You must find creative ways to multitask to save precious seconds, unless fantasy football discussions are at hand. Efficiency can get dangerous if you carry it too far, though, as I discovered today.
I haven't given into the 5 hour energy boost craze, so I still fight "that 2:30 feeling" with a flood of caffeine. What they don't tell you in the commercials is that it isn't necessarily the caffeine that keeps you awake but the frequent parade to and from the restroom. Somewhat anti-efficiency, I know. During one of my laps this afternoon, which for entertainment value were being timed, I found myself getting a little too ahead of myself . As I strolled in to the men's room I decided to start unbuckling my belt and unbuttoning my pants. Two things at once, multi-tasking. Don't worry, the multi-tasking did not start until the men's room door was shut.
As I turned the corner toward the two wall units, I almost ran into my boss, pants unzipped. There isn't much you can say at the moment you almost run into your boss at a urinal with your pants undone. Small talk like "How's it hanging" really isn't appropriate. I am not sure what level of preparation for a urinal is acceptable, but I had clearly crossed the line in this situation. Thankfully, my boss was on his Bluetooth, so one bathroom violation voided the other and I escaped relatively unscathed. I hope he was on mute.
This situation did lead me to one fearful thought. I am afraid this scenario is the slippery slope that begins the development of "that guy" who lets it all hang out at the gym. You know him as the one who air dries everything while telling you a miserable story about his dog or something exceedingly boring while keeping you uncomfortable as you try to not look at his junk. Please just throw me a towel if today leads me down that path.
I haven't given into the 5 hour energy boost craze, so I still fight "that 2:30 feeling" with a flood of caffeine. What they don't tell you in the commercials is that it isn't necessarily the caffeine that keeps you awake but the frequent parade to and from the restroom. Somewhat anti-efficiency, I know. During one of my laps this afternoon, which for entertainment value were being timed, I found myself getting a little too ahead of myself . As I strolled in to the men's room I decided to start unbuckling my belt and unbuttoning my pants. Two things at once, multi-tasking. Don't worry, the multi-tasking did not start until the men's room door was shut.
As I turned the corner toward the two wall units, I almost ran into my boss, pants unzipped. There isn't much you can say at the moment you almost run into your boss at a urinal with your pants undone. Small talk like "How's it hanging" really isn't appropriate. I am not sure what level of preparation for a urinal is acceptable, but I had clearly crossed the line in this situation. Thankfully, my boss was on his Bluetooth, so one bathroom violation voided the other and I escaped relatively unscathed. I hope he was on mute.
This situation did lead me to one fearful thought. I am afraid this scenario is the slippery slope that begins the development of "that guy" who lets it all hang out at the gym. You know him as the one who air dries everything while telling you a miserable story about his dog or something exceedingly boring while keeping you uncomfortable as you try to not look at his junk. Please just throw me a towel if today leads me down that path.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Shortest Distance to Confirming You are a D-Bag is...
I got the finger today. Not an every day occurrence, but still somewhat off putting. I will take a small percentage of ownership for the incident, as I was rocking the new Volvo for the first time, so I was not paying full attention to my surroundings. However, I refuse to take full responsibility.
The scene was that I was in the left hand lane of a two lane street heading northbound through downtown. There were also two lanes of traffic heading southbound. Traffic was stopped at a red light, and I pulled up to be about the 5th car deep from the light. What I didn't realize was that there was someone trying to pull out of a parking lot to my right wanting to come across both northbound lanes to head south. The car in the right lane was a good Samaritan who noticed this and stopped. I was too wrapped up in Coolio or some other fantastic song being on the 90s on 9 Sirius station, so I did not notice, and did not stop, thus blocking the path. By blocking Frogger's path in jumping over to the southbound lanes, a chain reaction went off that concluded with a honk and the one-finger salute. Some words also may have been mouthed that were not nice.
As I drove off I started thinking about the social implications of this situation. This guy was focused on saving himself time, rather than just going with the flow of traffic. However, by jumping Frogger style through at least three lanes of traffic to head south, he was causing inefficiencies, and potential safety issues, for many others. Again, this was all to same himself two minutes. Selfish.
In the end, I learned three things today, that guy's a douche, selfish people suck, and Gangsta's Paradise still brings it.
The scene was that I was in the left hand lane of a two lane street heading northbound through downtown. There were also two lanes of traffic heading southbound. Traffic was stopped at a red light, and I pulled up to be about the 5th car deep from the light. What I didn't realize was that there was someone trying to pull out of a parking lot to my right wanting to come across both northbound lanes to head south. The car in the right lane was a good Samaritan who noticed this and stopped. I was too wrapped up in Coolio or some other fantastic song being on the 90s on 9 Sirius station, so I did not notice, and did not stop, thus blocking the path. By blocking Frogger's path in jumping over to the southbound lanes, a chain reaction went off that concluded with a honk and the one-finger salute. Some words also may have been mouthed that were not nice.
As I drove off I started thinking about the social implications of this situation. This guy was focused on saving himself time, rather than just going with the flow of traffic. However, by jumping Frogger style through at least three lanes of traffic to head south, he was causing inefficiencies, and potential safety issues, for many others. Again, this was all to same himself two minutes. Selfish.
In the end, I learned three things today, that guy's a douche, selfish people suck, and Gangsta's Paradise still brings it.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Possessive Friendship
You have probably had this happen at least once today. If it didn't, please just play along so I don't feel awkward and alone. It starts when some annoying coworker decides to decrease efficiency. This effort is doubled by coming to tell you a story no one really cares about. The cubicle gods would be angry.
The story being told will involve multiple people, which is key to this post. The subject of whatever story is being conveyed, however, is not key. What matters is how the annoying coworker refers to the other individual(s) in the story. It is always "MY friend" that did something or knows something or said something. MY Friend. Not Yours. Mine.
It is the possessive that annoys me. It is as if this individual is flaunting their ownership of a relationship with another person that cannot be had by me or anyone else. In this possessive relationship, the two people, which does not include me, did something incredibly awesome recently. It must be understood that I will never be a part of this because it is "MY friend." Doesn't help my insecurities.
Why do we need the possessive "MY"? And by the way, "MY" is in all caps, because, whether I imagine it or not, I feel as if the ownership is being stressed by the story teller. Why can't it just be a friend? Wouldn't referring to "a friend" be just as useful without conveying superiority? As an intelligent society, can't we assume that the reference to "a friend" is to a relationship had between this so-called friend and the storyteller?
I am guilty of using "MY friend" as well, but it must stop. We cannot refer to friends as if it is an exclusive relationship like we would a significant other. We must show a willingness to share for the sake of humanity.
Or maybe it's just me taking up arms against a ridiculous pet peeve, and that is why there are very few people out there using the term "MY friend Thomas..."
The story being told will involve multiple people, which is key to this post. The subject of whatever story is being conveyed, however, is not key. What matters is how the annoying coworker refers to the other individual(s) in the story. It is always "MY friend" that did something or knows something or said something. MY Friend. Not Yours. Mine.
It is the possessive that annoys me. It is as if this individual is flaunting their ownership of a relationship with another person that cannot be had by me or anyone else. In this possessive relationship, the two people, which does not include me, did something incredibly awesome recently. It must be understood that I will never be a part of this because it is "MY friend." Doesn't help my insecurities.
Why do we need the possessive "MY"? And by the way, "MY" is in all caps, because, whether I imagine it or not, I feel as if the ownership is being stressed by the story teller. Why can't it just be a friend? Wouldn't referring to "a friend" be just as useful without conveying superiority? As an intelligent society, can't we assume that the reference to "a friend" is to a relationship had between this so-called friend and the storyteller?
I am guilty of using "MY friend" as well, but it must stop. We cannot refer to friends as if it is an exclusive relationship like we would a significant other. We must show a willingness to share for the sake of humanity.
Or maybe it's just me taking up arms against a ridiculous pet peeve, and that is why there are very few people out there using the term "MY friend Thomas..."
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Who Doesn't Want to Expose Their Life to Criticism
When I hear someone say that 50 is the new 40, or 40 is the new 30, my first thought is that the individual is full of shit (replace "full of shit" with "in denial" if you want to be classy about it, then go fuck yourself). Personally, I feel the case is, in fact, the opposite but even more accelerated. I am 30, and I feel as if I have one foot in the grave, with the other dragging the line not far behind.
I am by no means a genius, and not the first to say this, but I am pretty sure the cause of accelerated aging is due to the increased pace of life we all encounter. Shocking, I know. We cram far too much into each day, and if you aren't multi-tasking, something is probably not getting done. That smell you are noticing is the diaper that remains unchanged, you forgot that one apparently.
Our increased pace of life has been caused by the technology that was supposed to help us. Better technology was supposed to allow us to get things done quicker and free up time, but we apparently just decided we had to fill this free time with more things to do, thus requiring even more technology. Nice little vicious circle.
Technology is coming after us, but in a much more sneaky fashion than the Terminator films. Technology is fighting us from all angles except dead-on. It continues to push our bodies to the limits as described above, and as it pushes harder we start to break down mentally and physically. At the same time, it distracts us with a barrage of "news", YouTube, and other useless garbage. (I hate using the written equivalent of air quotes, but when Lindsay Lohan and Brett Favre's retirement get mainstream news coverage, the quotes are required). Finally, there is all the free porn to take away the rest of our free time. We are rendered helpless while the controlling force destroys us.
Like John Connor, I have decided to fight the technology and find some way to slow myself down. Unlike John Connor, I have no real power or strength. All I have is me forcing myself to notice things around me that I find interesting, and then write about them in this blog. The irony does not get past me that I ranted above about the multitude of sources of useless information adding to technology's power over us, yet I choose to fight it by adding to this free flow of garbage. What can I say, other than reiterating the fact that I am not a genius. It works in my mind, but then again, I have named this blog Refined Delusions.
I am by no means a genius, and not the first to say this, but I am pretty sure the cause of accelerated aging is due to the increased pace of life we all encounter. Shocking, I know. We cram far too much into each day, and if you aren't multi-tasking, something is probably not getting done. That smell you are noticing is the diaper that remains unchanged, you forgot that one apparently.
Our increased pace of life has been caused by the technology that was supposed to help us. Better technology was supposed to allow us to get things done quicker and free up time, but we apparently just decided we had to fill this free time with more things to do, thus requiring even more technology. Nice little vicious circle.
Technology is coming after us, but in a much more sneaky fashion than the Terminator films. Technology is fighting us from all angles except dead-on. It continues to push our bodies to the limits as described above, and as it pushes harder we start to break down mentally and physically. At the same time, it distracts us with a barrage of "news", YouTube, and other useless garbage. (I hate using the written equivalent of air quotes, but when Lindsay Lohan and Brett Favre's retirement get mainstream news coverage, the quotes are required). Finally, there is all the free porn to take away the rest of our free time. We are rendered helpless while the controlling force destroys us.
Like John Connor, I have decided to fight the technology and find some way to slow myself down. Unlike John Connor, I have no real power or strength. All I have is me forcing myself to notice things around me that I find interesting, and then write about them in this blog. The irony does not get past me that I ranted above about the multitude of sources of useless information adding to technology's power over us, yet I choose to fight it by adding to this free flow of garbage. What can I say, other than reiterating the fact that I am not a genius. It works in my mind, but then again, I have named this blog Refined Delusions.
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