Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Seriously Dog, No Means No!

I really like THE WIFE's little ankle-biter dogs. They are named Gizmo and Gadget and are a pair of Japanese Chins. Gizmo is the sweet loveable little girl and Gadget is the dumb as a hammer little boy.

Gizmo is a cuddler, she loves to climb up on you and curl up while you scratch her tummy.

Gadget likes to immediately barge in while you are cuddling with Gizmo and stand on you while demanding you STOP PETTING Gizmo and PET HIM NOW! He shoves his nose and paws in between Gizmo and the two legged love dispenser trying to intercede and hog all those lovin's for himself.

Keep in mind that when I'm laying on my back with a little cuddle dog on me, he is standing on whatever part of my body he can get a place. Chest, stomach, head...

testicles.

You'd think a little dog that weighs nine pounds or so wouldn't be a big deal, but the little fart's feet feel like they're pushing through to my backbone while he stands there showing his nose into my hand...

and licking me. Ewwww. I HATE THAT!

There is one thing I've never cared for and that is being licked. Don't like it, no sir, not one bit. I've never understood people that will let Sparky or whatever they named their beast lick all over their face, hands and mouth.

Yeah, the one that really gets me is the mouth. Especially when people kiss their dogs on the mouth.

Why does that bother me so much?

...yeah, that ain't chocolate

So there these folks are practically French kissing their Asthmahound Chihuahua when the little dust mop has just gotten out of the litter box.

For some reason kitty litter must taste like sugar sprinkles on doughnuts because that mixed with the flavor of feline-processed cat food (ie: turds) is the dog food equivalent of meth. Yeah bring home some "Old Roy" dry mix from Wal-Mart and they'll look at you like you're rooting for the Browns to go to the Super Bowl. Drop a steaming hot cat turd in the floor though? Man, that's EATIN'!

Then the fur-covered turd munchers want to come and give ME kisses? On my MOUTH?

Oh heeeeeeck no!

I love you dog, but no means no.

Monday, January 28, 2013

The Phoneman Adventures - Episode 1

Years ago I worked on a team that installed a phone system for the City County Building in Knoxville, Tennessee. The City County Building is like the town courthouse of steroids as it held most of the city and county offices, courts, the city jail and also the independent public management department.

The important part of this story is the city jail. We always enjoyed visiting the jail for service calls, kind of the way we enjoyed visiting relatives who pinch your cheeks and reeks of scotch, Marlboros and cologne.

In short, we didn't.

It wasn't because we didn't like and appreciate the folks who worked in the jail. They had a tough job and did it well, we weren't particularly fond of the "Residents" of the jail. While filled with a mix of weekend drunk drivers, petty crooks and other various miscreants, the thing that bothered us most was we were there... 

With tool pouches...

You see, it's hard to do repair work without tools and although ANY knife would quickly be confiscated from a visitor to the jail, we were free to walk among the inmates with leather pouches filled with technician death swinging from our hips.

Screwdrivers, pinch tools, pliers, hooks, wire, snips etc... were our tools of trade and they all made wonderful weapons if used improperly.

The things which kept us in the proper frame of mind was our use of gallows humor to pass the days. We enjoyed razzing each other endlessly over our failures and problems. We also enjoyed telling each other the stories of our trips to the jail.

One story involved a group that ran a new phone line for the staff. When it came time to leave the guys were checking their tools to make sure everything was there. One of our guys named Curtis noticed he had a screwdriver missing. A quick look around didn't turn it up, so Curtis turned to the guard who was escorting them and said, "I'm sure it'll turn up sooner or later." The guard then replied, "Yeah, sticking out of our back."

Needless to say after a MUCH more inspired search the screwdriver was found where it was left, above a ceiling tile.

A second story involved a set of ladies who were mapping out the location and numbers of all the phones in the jail. One of the ladies realized she had forgotten to declare a small knife when processing in.

I need to clarify the term, "Knife" here. Knife paints a picture of a deadly killing utensil. This "Knife" was about an inch long when closed and contained a tiny blade, a tiny set of scissors, a tiny nail file and a tiny toothpick. We had gotten them as gifts from the company and they came on a keying. Most of us used them to clean our fingernails and occasionally use them as screwdrivers when wiring phone jacks when we were too lazy to walk back to our trucks for tools.

With that said, she tapped a guy on the shoulder and told him of her mistake. She held the teeny, tiny, itty, bitty knife in the palm of her hand to show him. (keep in mind the first story about out "Tool Pouches of DEATH" I just shared).

The man turned white, broke out in a sweat and then snatched the "Knife" from the lady's hand. He clutched the contraband weapon in his meaty paw, enveloping it in a kind of flesh container to protect it from seizure, and holding the meaty paw filled with tiny death high in the air, immediately marched out of the jail.

Yeah... drama...

Friday, January 25, 2013

Transitions

Happy New Year!

Hey, how have you been?

Yeah, um, I know I used to write in this blog.  Yeah, I used to draw cartoons. I know they were kind of funny sometimes.

I take this moment to apologize to the folks that occasionally got a laugh or two over me losing my mind over irate techs, family insanity, poop and stupid cartoons.  I decided to change jobs two years ago and I went from using 10% of my brain and having at least 50% free time to using 100% of my brain. I guess I still have free time as I watch football... and... yeah, that's about it.

I have spent the last two years completely learning a whole new support system while working. In tech support you are supposed to be the guy with the answers. The larger the company you work for, the more true this is.

I am finally feeling like I kind of belong. I don't feel like total dead weight.

Like when my boss talked about how other companies would be excited to hire me, all I could think was he was hoping they would.

Anyway, I plan on spending less time being nice on Facebook, and more time being my normal, twisted self.

I hope you'll join me.