Can we fit this story into a Successories poster?

Our company picnic is tomorrow. It should be pretty cool. The accounts of last year's picnic affirm the probable presence of beer, food, and lack of management-induced mingling. It's going to be pretty close to my house, and Chris is even going to manage to crash it because he's got a half day as well. (Let's hear it for system upgrades.)

The one thing that my employer was going to bone up about it is the same thing that they always bone up. They were requiring that we wear regular business attire until the closing bell for the day. Now, let's set aside for one minute the sheer morale-plunging properties of this proclamation, and do some basic math. The picnic starts at 1 pm. We are "allowed" to leave work at 12:30. It's a 20 minute drive-- add in traffic lights and parking, and there's your time. Fine. Now, we've got 70 employees in our building alone. Assuming that we all have enough modesty and dignity to use a bathroom stall to change clothes in (and we don't), that's 14 sets of turnover. Allow 3 minutes for each person to change clothes, hire Mussolini to keep everything moving, and you've already got a 45 minute mess.

Obviously, in a move that is totally uncharacteristic for them, management did not think this one through.

But, at 4:59 this afternoon, they redeemed themselves entirely and said that we could wear whatever we want. The bunch of snarky smart-ass writers that I work with immediately started announcing our various wardrobe choices for tomorrow, including "tube top," "pirate shirt," and "showgirl costume."

So the bosses got it right, for which I am most grateful. When word came down, there was a general gleeful hoopla. Mid-whoop, I caught Jesse's eye. We both realized, in an instant, how sad it is to find so much elation in a t-shirt. But I'll try to ride out the wave of joie de vivre until tomorrow afternoon.

Bumper sticker of the day.

If I have to explain it to you, it's not worth it. If you get it, you're peeing a little right now.

You can buy them at www.goats.com, along with some other fantastic stuff. I'm actually considering slapping one of these on the Blue Death Arrow.

Swap Meet Fun.

Yesterday, we were walking around the Swap Meet. It was pleasantly hot, as long as you kept moving, and there was a fantastic assortment of crap. We tend to skip past the "fell off the back of a truck" stalls, because the "garage sale" type people are far more interesting.

At one point, Chris stopped me, and pointed out the best item ever. It was lying there, on a manky blanket, surrounded by small piles of sunbaked tchotchkes, being presided over by an uncomfortably hot looking woman:

TIMMAY!!!

Shibbeledeh. This is Tim, my other best friend. I have failed to post a picture of him so far, because as mentioned in my previous post, I suck. If Timmy has a better picture that he would like me to post, he is free to send it. This one was taken at the Everglades Holiday Park. If you're ever in south Florida, looking to embrace a hot and humid summer day, head on down to the Holiday Park, buy an airboat ticket and a tall can of Coors Light, and pretend you have fewer teeth than you do. I will post pictures of gators and stuff at a later date, when I'm out of material.


And before I get in any more trouble, here's Nathan, Efrain, and Tim. Next I will need pictures of Aidy and Rob. I will hide the whois, I promise.

I suck.

It has been pointed out by Chimptastic that I have yet again failed in my photo posting responsibilities. I assure Tim, and everyone else, that I don't do this on purpose. All of you live in photos in my heart.

Attention.

It is nap time.

That is all.

Tattletales: Not Just Kids Any More

I am such a good citizen. I care about the community I live in, and I don't like to see our precious resources wasted. I also like getting people in trouble. This is why I just took the time to call the San Diego water department to report that the hotel across the alley from us has a constant water leak. It's causing a pretty gnarly pothole, and it's generally just gross, especially when I'm walking through there in heels.

The thing is, when Tanequa took my call, she didn't really take too much information regarding the location of the leak. They're just going to send some poor guy out with pertinent details like an address and the note "water leak."

I'm pretty sure this is why the city is facing bankruptcy.

Harry Potter is so great.

I'm really glad I decided to finish the book tonight, when Chris is away at his saxomophone rehearsal, because I cried like an idiot.

To those critics who say that these books will not stand the test of time -- you are so wrong. People will be reading about Harry Potter a hundred years from now, and longer. You've now read it on the internet, so it must be true.






Come on, book 7.

Score!

When we were walking into the grocery store today, Chris found a $20 bill on the ground. Just like that. He did indulge in a few rounds of the traditional "Finders Keepers" taunt, but I'd say that's pretty valid.

SEOetry.

Jesse just introduced me to a wonderful new iteration of the acrostic, known as SEOetry. All you do is take a big ol' block of juicy copy that's been SEO'd to within an inch of its life, and then string together the first word of each line. He then forwarded me a couple of his favorites, and I tried one from the doc I had open at the time. Here we go, Jesse's two SEOems first:

In cannula moves cannula
Decreasing shrink or Dr.
As innovative cities United experience of procedure
Breast magazines
Plastic reduction Portsmouth

Even industrial Phoenix aspect
Extent critical burns for they are disabled
Are as catastrophic Phoenix
Our importance
Law cases if contact

And my first attempt:

Cosmetic
That not orthodontics
Option the effects
Porcelain application dental then appearance stain
Stephen to maintain

...I assure you, it's a lot funnier when you've been jamming cosmetic dentistry terms into poorly written copy all day.

Value-added stalking.

I was on the offramp today, coming home, when this guy totally cut me off. It was that really irritating kind of cutoff too, the one where you've been creeping forward for the last half mile, then, at the last second before the ramp veers off, Mr. Tool cuts in front of you.

He didn't put me in danger of crashing my car or anything, so I completely let it go. A couple of blocks later, as I was turning off the main drag into my neighborhood, I found myself behind him again. Now, I've seen this car before -- I recognize it from the completely retarded license plate that's advertising his useless small business -- and I know he lives very close to me. The beautiful and effortless result of this is that I tailed him for what must have seemed like forever to him. Coincidence = possible stalker.

So anyway, with no additional effort on my part, I managed to freak this guy out, because he passed a perfectly good spot in the area where he usually parks, and instead went around the block.

It is the small things that bring me joy.

Bad Copy of the Day Award (Thursday Edition)

"Modern breast implants are filled with either a saline (salty water) solution, or a silicone gel (similar in consistency to turkish delight)."

For those of you who don't know what turkish delight is, it's only important to know that it's a candy. Now, granted, this doctor is Australian, but still. As Jesse so succinctly put it, "I'm thinking that people want boobs to feel like boobs, not like turkish delight."

Bad Copy of the Day Award (Wednesday Edition)

"Dr. Thingy Thing enjoys providing his patients with a comfortable and relaxing atmosphere where he can create beautiful and lifelike smiles. "

Name withheld to protect... well, everyone, really. The bad writer who originally penned this and no longer works at my company, the doctor who either actively wrote this or passively accepted it, and of course, my own ass.

Lifelike???

Request fulfillment.

It was recently pointed out that, besides as a plastic polar bear, I do not have any pictures of Chris on the blog. For this I would like to apologize, and immediately offer reparation. Here is a selection of Best of Chris. There will be more, but this should tide most of you over for the weekend.


This is from the Dave Matthews Band show in Chula Vista last year. Chris on the left, Brian on the right. It's that evanescent moment in every tailgater's life, when one stops in mid-sentence, -swig, or -mocking, lift's one's head delicately into the air, and declares, "Hark! Could that be the cloying but predictable scent that I think it must be? But yes! It is! Someone has broken out the bud. It's about time." It was just a great shot, totally not staged.


Here we are on what I like to call the Floating Perk, our fantastic cruise from last year. I was very canned in this picture. But I looked good, and that's all that counts.


This is not Chris. But it's still a pretty awesome cat.


This one is just in here to see how long Chris will let me keep it up. In his defense, he was sick as a dog at the time.

Not my fault.

The lack of recent posts is completely due to the fact that I have been experiencing technical difficulties. Please enjoy this backlogged glut of stuff.

Ha ha! We are old!

I don't just mean me. I mean almost everyone who reads this except for a couple of dads.

We were watching Good Eats, when a Target commercial caught my ear. They were selling backpacks to the tune of Sir Mix-a-Lot's timeless classic "Baby Got Back." "I like back packs and I cannot lie...." you get the idea. There were children dancing around on screen, showing off their dope funky fresh bags. "These kids weren't even BORN when that song came out," I joked.

Then I realized I was right, and I felt very, very old.

USS Midway!

We dropped Kenny off at the zoo today (Kenny pictured below for your convenience)...

and then Chris and I went over to the USS Midway, a 50 year old aircraft carrier that was recently decommissioned and turned into a museum. The audio tour was top notch, offering explanations of what we were seeing, as well as stories from guys who worked and lived aboard. We got to see everything from the engine room to the mess and sick bay. We didn't make it up to the bridge because there was a mad line, and we figured we had to save something for when we take our dads there. :) So, once again, I invite you to live vicariously through my adventures.

Nice rack.


Up on deck.


Engine Room 3.


Chris next to a F-14 Tomcat

I love the zoo so much!

The San Diego Zoo is just the best. I never get tired of going there. This year they have a new exhibit called Monkey Trails that is super awesome. On account of all the monkeys. Here's some of the best pictures I took. Now I'm going to get back to enjoying my weekend. Ta!


There were about 7 gorillas in the enclosure, from the big mac daddy (pictured) down to a little food-stealing young one. But for the far less civilized primates on my side of the glass, I could have watched these guys forever.


Little jumpy monkeys are a big part of the Monkey Trails exhibit. Oh, how I love monkeys.


Baby flamingos!!! They're the little grey ones. Has anyone ever seen baby flamingos before? I know I sure hadn't.


Show me someone who gets tired of watching polar bears play, and I'll show you someone who's an inhuman freak.


Not sure about the polar bear mask. I'm thinking the last thing that kids want on a hot summer's day is a thin veneer of plastic over their faces. But I had Chris model it anyway, because it's kind of creepy. He was wearing his sunglasses under there for the full beady-eyed effect.

When Orangutans Go On Benders.

Hola, amigos.

I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya. I went to the World Famous San Diego Zoo today. More pics and stuff later -- I'm watching a special on Chuck Jones and drinking beer, so good times.

The Genus Edition can kiss my ass.

We were at Target yesterday, picking up the few little things that always add up to $200 no matter what, and we wound up in the toy aisle because we wanted to buy Risk. Not sure why. Risk just sounded good. The only Risk they had was Star Wars Risk, and while cool, did not justify its own $31 price. So Chris saw 90's Trivial Pursuit, which DID justify its own $31 price.

Because I was an only child, my only two social options were to 1) entertain myself quietly or 2) play with the grown-ups. This means that I wistfully looked on as my parents and their friends played Trivial Pursuit. I usually played the vital role of team mascot. Even as I got a little older, and started to know some of the answers, it was clear that I would never be able to truly contend. I mean, how much can an 11-year-old possibly know about the Johnson administration?

Then, a few years ago, the good folks at Hasbro put out a Disney edition. Hey hey, I thought. I grew up on Disney, I worked at Disneyland, I can do this. No, it was pretty much the Genus Edition with a couple of Disney questions thrown in. Strike two.

Now the tables have turned. For the most part, I paid attention during the 90's. I can tell you that The Chronic was done by Dr. Dre, and that Nelson Mandela thought that meeting the Spice Girls was "one of the greatest moments" of his life. Well, I didn't know that before I played the game, but you get the idea.

In short, to my parents and any other baby boomers who claim mastery of the Trivial Pursuit genre:

Bring it.