Reincarnation

Do you believe in reincarnation? It’s an interesting idea. Not as interesting as the concept of sex in outer space—but still interesting.

Most people who believe in reincarnation also believe they did something fascinating in their previous life. Usually, this is because they’re not doing anything too fascinating in their current life. So in a way, they’re daydreaming about a fictional past in order to feel better about their drab future.

I’m guessing I was a soldier in a previous life. Not a great general or anything like that—just an oridinary slob who liked to express his anger with humanity through the use of government-sanctioned violence. Plus, I can’t see myself as a farmer, standing around waiting for rain to fall on a patch of weeds. I probably died on a battlefield with a spear in my chest. I hope I didn’t lose any arms or legs.

Nowadays I like to express my anger with written words. This is a big improvement over my fictional past—I’m evolving in a postitive way. Hopefully, you are too.

Computer Cars

New cars are more and more dependent on computers to run properly. Now I don’t want to sound like some old guy sitting in a rocking chair, chewing on a pair of plastic teeth—but do we really NEED to wire up every burp of beautiful carbon monoxide to a microchip?

I could see the point if the computer brought something to the party. Like more horsepower or maybe a couple of hookers. But actually, what does it do? Does the car last longer? No. Does it go any faster? No. Is it any cheaper? HA! It’s actually MORE expensive. So what’s the point?

There’s something to be said for the simplicity of a mechanical braking system. Okay, a human can’t make adjustments 10,000 times per second like a computer can. But you can actually stop the car, which is more than the owners of the Toyota Prius can say

A Question

Have you ever asked yourself, “What am I doing here?”

I ask this question a lot. One of these days I’ll come up with an answer.

Motivation In The Workplace

“What will motivate you?”

“More money.”

“No, we can’t give you that.”

“Well then, how about a pony?”

“Will it be cost effective? “

“What do you think?”

“I don’t get paid to think. I’m a manager.”

“Sorry, I forgot.”

BAR

So, what’s happening? I’ve noticed a few bloggers describing their blogs this way: “It’s not about ME— it’s about YOU.”

Well, that’s very generous, but rest assured that this blog is not about you.

This blog is about a BAR. Yes, Jill and I have installed a bar in our living room. The truth is we don’t even drink that much. But it looks cool, and it will give us a good excuse to start drinking more often.

I find it very hard to believe it’s only Thursday. Oh, wait—god dammit, it’s only Wednesday. Okay, I find it hard to believe it’s only Wednesday. I really need to start hitting the bar a little harder. In fact, I might just knock the damn thing over, right after I drink a quart of vodka.

Actually, I don’t drink vodka. I don’t drink anything that doesn’t taste good. Except beer.

I’m going to try and post something more often, even when it’s dumb like this post here. In fact, especially if it’s dumb.

CDs Delayed

Well, the arrival of the new CD (Happy Joe, Big Mouth) has been pushed back a bit. It all has to do with money, or a lack of it. But it will happen soon, because I won’t let a minor thing like financial disaster get in the way of making those records and getting them shipped and putting them under the bed to gather dust.

I’m just kidding. I usually put them in the basement.

In other news, I still haven’t seen Avatar. Yes, I’m the one person. Actually, Jill hasn’t seen it either, so there are two of us. But we’ll check it out soon.

SHOVELS

“We seem to be in a hole, people.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“Well, I can see it’s true. So what are we going to do about it? Any ideas?”

“Maybe we should stop digging.”

“Ha! Don’t be a wise-ass. You know we can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not the way we do things… Where are you going?”

“To get a few more shovels.”

“Good thinking.”

“Right after I finish my resume.”

“Okay… Uh, can you write one for me, too?”

“Sure thing.”

Customer Service

She had eyes like a pair of headlights. Not the headlights of a cute little Honda—I’m talking more like the headlights of a Lincoln Navigator. So she had big, luminescent eyes.

She didn’t look at me right away, but I finally got her attention. Because I was robbing a bank, and she was the teller, and after a long wait in line I finally reached her window.

“Put all the money in the bag,” I said as I pulled my piece. “And I don’t just want the marked stuff… I want everything. The whole vault.”

She batted her umbrella eyelids. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I can only give you the money we set aside for robbers.”

“Uh, well, okay.” I squirmed a bit. “But is this the stuff that explodes and covers me with purple die? Because I want to invest in a mutual fund, and I’m not sure if they’ll take purple money.”

She smiled. “I’m just a teller. Would you like to speak to a financial adviser?”

I couldn’t believe her words! In a sea filled with apathetic souls, here was someone who cared!

“Uh, not today,” I stammered. “Maybe later, after I count the cash and see what I’ve got.”

“You’ve got about fifteen hundred dollars,” she said while handing me a neatly tied bundle of bills. “That’s what the average bank robber gets.”

“Really? Hey, I thought this place paid a better than average yield.”

“No, I’m afraid we’re very average here.” She toyed with her hair a bit, and then I suppose hit the silent alarm switch. “But we’ll try to do better in the future.” And then she leaned forward with her lips glistening like peeled plums. “We’ll try very, very hard.”

I hesitated as her breath brushed my face like the wind above a volcano. Then I shoved the cash in the bag. “Okay,” I said. After all, the alarm had been tripped, the cops were on the way, and I didn’t want to shoot her. In fact, I looked at her and blurted, “Can I have your phone number?”

She smiled again. “Yes, of course.” And did she just blush? “It’s mixed in with the money.” Then she winked at me, and I felt myself melt like a snow cone in a sizzling pan.

“Thanks,” I said with a grin. I glided toward the door.

My feet felt like they were floating. Would she care if I called? And would she visit me in prison?

Either way, I knew that money wasn’t everything.

A Typical Day In Corporate America

“Sir, you’ll be happy to know we’re in the process of running a detailed analysis.”

“A detailed analysis? What are you talking about?”

“We’re examining the challenges, General Custer… We have several team-building exercises planned that will maximize solutions!”

“That’s great—but what the fuck are we going to do about all these Indians?”

“Oh, uh, right. We’ll get on that right away, sir. Just as soon as the computer reboots.”

1-1-10

I haven’t written anything for a while. I could say I’ve been busy with the house and the kids, but I don’t have any of those things so I’d be lying. Maybe I just haven’t had much to say.

I’ve decided 2010 will be the happiest year of my life. Because this is the year a flying saucer will whisk me away from this awful rock. Of course, I’ve been hoping for that to happen since I was three years old and somehow it hasn’t worked out.

Hope you all have a HAPPY NEW YEAR!