I doubt you will see too many restaurant reviews on here, but Red Robin is kinda money. Hammer and I went there on a fake gay date and it was seriously good stuff. I had the Royal Red Robin burger which involves a fried egg. That might sound wierd, but it was amazing. And, they have all-you-can-eat french fries. Not bad, at all.
I was leaving work last night, going down the back stairs so as to avoid Art (aka: my stalker doorman) and just as I opened the door on the first floor I looked down the hall and out the side door. Who was standing there smoking a cigarette… Crazy Talker.
I literally looked back and forth down each hallway. One led to Art, and the other to Crazy Talker (previously here).
I had to act fast. At any moment Crazy Talker could finish his cigarette and come back inside. I made a split second decision. I would go with Art. While Art is a stalker, and latches onto your side as soon as you walk anywhere near him as if you both have high-powered magnets in your pockets, he is more easily subdued than Crazy Talker.
Crazy Talker will push through all of your defenses and just keep on going and going and going… Art doesn’t have that kind of drive. Art talks to you because he feels like he needs to. If he doesn’t he feels bad. He feels like he has no friends (which from what I have seen is most likely the case). But Crazy Talker, he is on a freakin’ mission. His goal in life is to talk. He won’t fail. He can’t fail.
Also, I can tell Art is a nice guy. If I am forced to grant one of these garrulous goons their ultimate wish I would prefer it be Art. So, I think I made the right decision. As was expected, Art pounced and let is akward chit-chat wash over me as I passed by. The goal at this point was keep on moving. Don’t stop, just keep going. It worked. I was outside and free from both Art and the Crazy Talker.
But don’t think I wasn’t considering the fact that Crazy Talker might have walked around to the front of the building. I did. Crazy Talker haunts my every move. I think of him anytime I am outside of our office suite. I may run into him anywhere, and he can not be stopped.
Crazy Talker, why have you foresaken me?
And by “a little,” I mean a lot. In fact, I’m pretty sure I am counting the precious days before my wife 86’s me. Most of my annoyances are aimed towards her. For instance:
I am a professional tickler. It is an unfortunate coincidence that my wife hates to be tickled. I can’t seem to help myself, and it drives her nuts. I had an uncle that use to tickle me silly (seriously, just tickling) and I think that got imprinted on me.
If I take a cold soda out of the fridge, and my wife is nearby, I will press it up against some of her exposed flesh. Or, if none is exposed, I am not above going under a shirt, or even down some pants.
I also “make things up” quite a bit. This is very similar to when I was a child and would tell my mother a whole big story I made up, just to say “psyche!” at the end.
I thought of this tonight, because I was performing another famous annoyance of mine which is to stick something (usually an inanimate object, but sometime my finger) down my wife’s pants if she has bent over. Tonight it was a pen, and I kept doing it ever time she bended forward from her seat on our couch. She of course objected from the very first violation, but I of course continued (I am “annoying” remember).
The last time, I got the pen pretty far down there. After pulling it out I realized there was some possibility it might smell. I smelled it, and everything seemed ok. I tried to get her to smell it, but she wasn’t having it. In fact she said, “Not only do I not want to smell the pen, but I would love it if I could bend over without you sticking something down there.”
I would have jumped at the chance to smell a pen that had just come out of my pants.
I have no idea what this all means, other than of course, that I am not normal.
This post I will admit is a stolen gem from one of my best friends. So for those of you that drink on the weekend or have had a few too many before in your life, have you ever noticed that the next morning you have an absurd amount of boogers in your nose. I mean it is ridiculous. Anyway, my friend use to say that those were all the dead brain cells killed from the night before. I still wonder if this is a possibility. Just a thought, not a sermon.
Blood’s most recent post made me think of a statement that I use to say when I was in my early twenties. I would always say that a good night on the weekends was when I had a “boob in your face and a butt in your hand.” Since then the statement has taken many different forms like “Butt in Face, Boob in hand,” etc. Well you get the gist. Anyway, next time someone says did you have a good weekend, think to yourself, “Did I have a boob in my face and a Butt in my hand.” An easy way to qualify it for yourself. Of course this only applies to our male contingent.
I’m waiting for the bus after work, talking to my wife on the phone, and a really cute girl comes jogging down the street. So, while not staring at her, I do occasionally glance at her as she proceeds to jog up next to me (about 6 feet away). She then turns to face away from me and bends her body completely over to stretch (or tie her shoes, or whatever) and therefore essentially display her butt to me. I look.
I then tell my wife what just happened, and ask her if she is at all upset by this. She is not, but during my explanation of what has taken place, she asks me something like “can’t a woman jog down the street without getting ogled.”
“Of course she can,” I say, “but she can’t jog down the street in skin tight pants, and then walk in front of someone and bend over, and expect them not to look at her butt.”
I ask her if the situation was reversed, and some cute boy did the same thing in front of her, would she not look? She claims… no. Allegedly, “chances are” she would not look.
I of course, call BS on this.
She is unmovable on the subject until I bump it up a notch and replace the “cute boy” with Orlando Bloom (she just described him as her #1 - not sure where that leaves me…). Well, in that case… she would look.
So I think this is much less about looking at someone’s arse, but more about the standards. She isn’t against looking at someone’s butt, but just wouldn’t care much unless the person was super double hot. Guys, unsurprisingly, aren’t quite this picky. Because, to be truthful, while this jogger was pretty cute, she is not even close to being on my list (which by the way, has “my wife” at #1).
Alright so the heading of this post is a little deceiving. My boss is in fact as far from crazy as they come. He is the kind of guy who eats the exact same salad everyday for lunch. Nothing in his life is out of place or lacking in planning. When he wears a sports jersey, he tucks it in his jeans. Which, by the way, have tapered legs and are tight around his ankles. Anyway, I digress. Alright, actually one more item, his hair is like a plastic cast he puts on his head. There is not a single hair out of place and never a difference from day to day. He gets his haircut so frequently you cannot tell when it has been cut. Well this post is about how out of touch he is. He is not a bad guy by any stretch of the imagination, but he does not fully get it. Sorry once again about the tangent.
Alright… So he invites me to a football game a month in advance, because he wants us to bond a bit outside of work. Good team-building and all of that. Of course, I am excited to go. One day we are on the topic of headaches and I talk about how I never drink water on the weekends and what a moron I am because that is when I need water the most. He responses by asking, “Why? Do you replace your water consumption with alcohol?” Now before I answer that, I by no means claim myself to be a rock star drinker. I do indulge in an adult beverage here and there, but I do not drink like a wild man. That said, I drink enough were water on the weekends would not be such a bad idea.
Back to the story. I tell my boss that seems to be the problem and he says, “I better see that Sunday.” Pause for a moment. I have explained my boss to you as an absolute square and this is the comment he makes. So I assume the game is really an unwinding session where we throw a couple back and let it all hang out. That whole conversation happens on a Monday. So I am thinking, wow the game could be a wild time. I pre-warn my wife, “Hey I am going to the game with my boss and he is fired up so pretend like I am not going to be around all Sunday, because I will be picked up early and be getting home late.” Seemed like a reasonable thing to say based on my boss’ comment of “better see that Sunday.”
Advance a couple days and we are now 2 days from the comment and 3 days until the game. I decide to ask my boss when he plans to pick me up for the game, because if we are replacing alcohol with water, we must be tailgating early. He tells me he is picking me up at 11:00. Now that would not be so bad if the game started at 4:00, but the game is at 1:00. So now I am a bit confused, I live an hour from the game, the game starts at 1:00, he is picking me up at 11:00, and there is no chance of him seeing me “throw a couple back” at the game or replacing my water consumption with beer.
So fast forward to Sunday. I awake early and decide I will pack a couple beers for the road. After all, he is driving and I want to at least offer something as a show of thanks for taking me to the game. He picks me up, we head to the game and park at about Noon. I figure that a couple beers are in order, because he had talked so highly about seeing me throw a couple back earlier in the week. I offer him a beer and with a bit of a shagrin on his face he takes the brew. We drink one and I decide to offer him another. He declines and I decide I don’t want to drink by myself, so we head to the game. For a moment I think maybe he is an at the game drinker. However, who ever wants to pay $8 a beer. So we head to the game and I think to myself, “I will buy him a beer at the game to say thanks for taking me.” We get in the game and I offer to buy him a beer. He declines, instead, opting for chicken fingers. I buy the chicken fingers and we head to our seats. We enjoy the entire game without a frothy beverage in hand and then head to the car and he drives me home.
I know this was a long post to get to that end, but my question is, when my boss expected to see me replace my water consumption with alcohol, did he think I meant 12oz of alcohol was the issue? Long story to get to this, but I wish knew what my boss meant when he said, “I better see that Sunday.”
So, you know how sometimes a person does something unusual, or has something unusual happen to them and they never ask about it or bring it up because it seems weird. Or, perhaps they assume that it happens to everyone else but in the back of their minds they aren’t positive.
This is what happened to me with both the Pee Shiver and the Ear Flutter.
Every time a yawn, I hear a “fluttering” in my ears. This is something that has happened to my for my entire life. It also happens if I shut my eyes really tight. I always thought that this happens to everyone, but have never been sure. I finally asked my wife and found that she had never heard of such a thing. So, off to google I went. Sure enough I found out that there are tiny little muscles on your ear drums that can “spasm.” No one mentioned my exact circumstances, but I thought “that must be it!” It also made sense when realizing that it happens both when I yawn and shut my eyes really tight. Under both of these circumstances, I am stretching the muscles around my ears.
So I did some testing and discovered that this was what was going on. I found that if I flex certain muscles in my face, I get the fluttering. Knowing what these particular movements were I attempted to alter my normal yawning movements to get rid of the flutter. For the first time in over 30 years, I yawned with no flutter. One small step for man…
Every once and a while, I shiver when I pee. Not the whole time, just for a second. I always wondered what this was, but was worried I would ask people and they would think I was nuts. Every time it would happen, I would wonder about it, and then I would eventually forget about it.
One evening, my then girlfriend (now wife) came home from work and asked me if I got the “pee shivers.” I was stunned. Was she talking about what I thought she was talking about? It is so common they have a name for it? Yes! I was so excited. Turns out, she was part of a conversation at her office and a bunch of the guys she works with were talking about it. Others do it too!
I googled “pee shivers” and sure enough there are about 150,000 results. Apparently, this mostly happens to boys, but a few girls mention it too. There is also a rather detailed attempt at explaining the pee shiver.
What did I learn from all of this? That I should always ask questions about things I am suspicious of. Gotta go, off to google “smelly belly button.”
I was going to get my haircut the other day and was halfway down the stairwell in my building when I realized I may have a problem. I had been sick, and was dealing with an on-and-off-again running/stuffy nose all day. I was picturing my head tilted back while getting my hair washed, and my barber would be looking right into my nose. What if I had mad boogers up there?
I didn’t have a mirror nearby, so I decided I would use my cell phone to take a picture up my nose. I had to tip my head back to make sure there was enough light, too. So there I was, in the stairwell, with my head tilted all the way back, and my arm outstretched in front of me holding my cell phone.
Click! Good news, all clear. Phew.
So it is 5:00 o’clock, work is about over for a nice three day weekend and I decide now is the perfect time to go take a poop. I go to my favorite stall in the bathroom - because if that wasn’t available for some reason, a) I won’t go to the bathroom because I can’t use my stall or b) that means I would be pooping next to someone and I am not that kind of guy. I sit down, drop the pants and sit down for a nice game of solitaire on my treo. Things are actually not going so well, with the solitaire, not the pooping. Anyway, I lose like 5 games, decide I need to get back to work, take care of wiping and all the formalities and put my phone in my pocket. I flush the toilet, stand up and then I hear something fall in the toilet. I turn around and to my dismay there is my treo just sitting there. I am actually saying out load, no, no, no. I am actually craping myself, although I have already taken care of this and I swipe it out of the toilet. This said I can’t imagine what someone would think if they were in the bathroom with me.
Alright, so I now have my phone out of the toilet and in my hands. Meanwhile we all know that cell phones are highly allergic to water and I am also highly allergic to crap water from a toilet. As you can see not a great combination of things going on here. I quickly turn off the phone. Yes surprisingly it was still on and I take the battery and put all three pieces (battery, cover and phone) on the stall floor. Once again imagine the poor sole who walks in to kind of witness this. Thankfully it is 5:00 ‘clock. However, also think about “Mr. Stall-Peer” who also misses the toilet and pees on the floor. No question I will need a bath in clorox tonight. I wipe down the phone shake it a couple times and turn it back on. Oddly enough it is pretty much working. Some weird things have happened, like when I press 2 sometimes it types “1″. Also, 1-3 speed dials no longer work and to be honest that is about it.
So I will wait a couple days, let the phone “dry out” and then choose my next course of action. So the real question remains will I continue to use my battle-tested phone or will Verizon be replacing my “crap phone” thinking it is a malfunction with the phone? I will keep you posted!