diary of a crumpler

Think of me as an ombudsman of cheeseburgers, if you will.
This series will allow you to more correctly account for your daily caloric intake.

Today’s Fat Fact:  If no one sees you eat it, and you leave no evidence – the calories, grams of fat, points, whatever metric you use to quantify your intake, are nonexistent. 

It’s TRUE and before you go and hog wash me, I’d like you to take a moment and consider two factors that I know you’ll agree are true:

1)  How many fat ninja have you seen in your life?
(I’m bet your answer is a big FAT zero!)

2)  How many times have you witnessed a ninja eating?
(I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess this number too, is ZERO!)

No one ever sees ninja eat, so they never get fat.

There you have it folks, irrefuteable logic that if you, like ninja, are not seen consuming a bacon double cheeseburger, large fries and a giant sized coke in your car in the parking lot outside of work – you need not count those calories against yourself!  Even if you already ate lunch and plan on eating a full dinner when you get home!

*Please note, Chris Farley’s character in Beverly Hills Ninja was not taken into consideration in determining Ninja statistics as Chris Farley was not actually a ninja, but an actor playing a ninja.  Movies are make believe, duh!

The List:
February 2008
Gift cards:  Due to my backlog of holiday and birthday gift cards to Kohl’s, (thanks Mom, Dad, Judy!) I purchased:

A Ralph Lauren sport jacket to replace a crappy Dockers blue blazer that I haven’t seen since 2005 when I may have left it at an ex-girlfriend’s house.  Yeah, 2005, I don’t have to dress up too often for work.

A pair of Nunn Bush dress shoes that are WAY more comfortable than stylish.  Kent is the model or whatever.  Kent is also the name of a Swedish rock band.  Highly recommend both.

and

Two pairs (one Haggar and one Dockers) of wrinkle resistant dress pants, ‘cause I can’t/don’t iron hung over.

I got all that crap for $22 after applying my gift cards.  That’s pretty awesome, eh?

I was considering going to Goodwill to grab a jacket, but think I made out better with Kohl’s as I wouldn’t have purchased second hand shoes.

Mom also hooked me up with a gift card to CircuitCity, which I planned to use for Guitar Hero, but I’ve not yet purchased (hint hint, PS2, please). 

With Apple reducing the price of the 1GB Shuffle to $50, and having a $30 gift card, I went ahead and picked up a silver Shuffle.  Sized as big as a book of matches, it will hold 200 – 250 songs, roughly.  I’ve got 150 on it now, about three quarters full. 

This will replace the spot in my backpack left when I decided to relegate my 4GB Green iPod mini to bedroom duty.  TheGirl got me a Sony iPod dock clock radio for X-mas, so greenie’s been living in the alarm clock.

Check the Shuffle out.
For $50 it’s a hell of a little mp3 player.

Nancy got me an eBay gift card, which is basically a PayPal.com gift card, which I didn’t even know existed.  Which brings me to my next thing of awesomeness on The List:
 
Buying Authentic Jerseys on eBay:
I started selling some of my replica jerseys on eBay a couple months ago.  While searching around and comparing prices I started finding new authentic jerseys that I liked at reasonable prices.  I’ve literally put together a heck of a collection.  With the gift card from Nancy, I got a navy Authentic Emmitt Smith jersey.  With the profits from my replica sales, I got a navy Authentic Witten.  I got a couple throwbacks too, a “double star” Aikman throwback (like the thanksgiving blue and whites they wear) and a long sleeve olde skool Bob Lilly – cotton, like a sweater.

Along the way, I figured out the difference between the Authentic, Tackle Twill, and Replica Jerseys.

The Authentics are the highest quality and most expensive.  A true Authentic from an NFL Team shop might run you damn near $300.  The Authentics are noted for their spandex-material side panels, embroidered numbers and letters, and cuffed sleeves.  My Emmitt Smith and Jason Witten jerseys are this type.

The mid range offering is the tackle twill jersey.  These also feature stitching instead of cheaper screen printing.  You’re not going to have the same thick material construction, or little details like the cuffs on the sleeves.  Most of the throwback jerseys are in this category.  My Aikman jersey is one of these.  These retail from $75 – $125

The cheapo selection is the replica.  Lightweight and flimsy, the logos, names, and numbers are screened on.  Retail is probably about $50.  These are also the only current Reebok jerseys that are sized with letters (S, M, L, XL, XXL, etc.) instead of numbers (48, 50, 52, 54, etc.)
THE “B” LIST:
Starbucks: Showing up this month for their ridiculous attempts to resemble a corner coffee shop despite the fact they’re on every metropolitan corner and every suburban shopping mall. 

Why do they bother having a “today our barista “Rob” recommends the skinny sugar free cinnamon dulce latte!” sign?  A normal coffeehouse might put that up, with the actual favorite drink of the barista, or whatever he or she made when he/she showed up at work.

But Starbucks would have you believe that baristas at every location in existence made the exact same recommendation for a solid month simultaneously.  Amazing. 

Every barista at every Starbucks is currently recommending that drink?  Does Starbucks corporate think we’re retarded?  That we wouldn’t recognize this fact?  Or do they assume that all of their customers go to the same single Starbucks. 

Maybe I’m the freak, probably visiting at least ten different starbucks locations per month.  And I’m not even a fan!  It will continue as I probably still have about fifty-eleven dollars left in Starbucks gift cards.

Ever notice that the barista don’t go by their real names?  I wonder if corporate marketing research determined that the name “Rob” tested better to their target consumers than “Steve”.  Test it.  Call the barista by the name on their tag.  See if they look up.  They don’t.

Wax:  Women, pay attention: I don’t wanna beat around the bush:  Stop talking about your waxing ways in front of dudes.  Here’s the new rule of thumb: If you have to wax something on your face, don’t talk about it to anyone that you would potentially want in your face.  Or mention it in his presence.  It creates a mental image in our heads, where we are picturing you with a mustache, like a real, honest to god Magnum, P.I. ‘stache.  This is one of those things that we should not picture.  Like you taking a dump.  Or giving birth.  It’s easier for us to imagine this type of thing NOT happening if you’re NOT talking about it in front of me.

Speaking of waxing:
Lawsuits: Innocent until proven guilty or rich.  Associated Press reports that Lindsay Lohan has settled out of court with busboy Raymundo Ortega regarding to their 2005 car crash.  This despite the fact that California Highway Patrol determined that Ortega caused the accident when he made the illegal U turn.  Isn’t that some shit?  I know, I know, it’s Lohan, but she actually wasn’t the guilty party and still got nailed for $200,000.  Hehehe. 

Steroids in baseball: I’m tired of reading and hearing Roger fucking Clemens blame everyone in existence for his screw ups.  The fact he admits that two of his friends and his wife used illegal substances, but he had no knowledge of any of it.  Bonds, Clemens, Canseco.  McGwire.  These were the names of heros of mine growing up…

Bluetooth: The only thing this device should ever be used for is DRIVING.  Or pissing people off.  I am so tired of people using these as part of their regular cell phone usage.  The technology isn’t that good yet.  It sounds like crap.  I have a co-worker that lives by his and it drives me fucking nuts.  I can’t understand him when he’s on it.  It seems to pick up everything clearly EXCEPT his voice.  And I have to remind him how much I hate it every time he calls me.  He’ll probably read this.  Take me off the fuckin’ Bluetooth, Brian.

Designer Eyewear: I got new glasses.  Versace.  I feel like they look good but feel like flimsy little dinks.  They already broke once.  I’ve have them for six days.  Two pairs ago I had Armani Exchange glasses.  They were flimsy, too.  What’s up with stylish glasses being made of metal that would be rejected for paperclip construction?

I had to replace my old sturdy ones after they “became mangled” in New Orleans.  That’s the second pair of glasses I’ve lost or damaged on site.  JSA should sponsor eyewear to those of us that wear it and consume vast quantities of alcohol.

lyric of the moment:
“balls out, my life is a slut,
this dick don’t hit the bottom,
but i fuck the sides up!”

Burning the candle from both ends doesn’t get you ahead.
It gets you a mess of hot wax.

You work until the wee hours.
Your desk and dining room are a coffee table.
Caffeine, nicotine and a laptop.

The Television keeps time.
Sitcoms with dinner and a crime drama for dessert.
The evening news is a cocktail. 
Jay Leno’s pouring you another drink.
The infomercial is your last cigarette of the day.
This is your life.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
Heart wound tight as spooled copper wire while Head races through tomorrow’s tasks like a deer with his tail on fire.
Tick-tock.
It doesn’t matter if it’s eleven-thirty or three in the morning you will not sleep well tonight.
Tick-tock.
And the freight train slowly comes to a rest.

Flash forward to five-forty five.
It’s still dark.
The clock reads a counterfeit twenty past six.
Setting it ahead doesn’t make you clever at six in the morning.

You’ll punch the snooze button a few times until you’re actually late.
And then rush through your morning routine as inefficient as one can be on three fingers of sleep.

Now you’re late to work.

2 b continued.

A man in a hot air balloon is lost.
He sees a man on the ground and reduces height to speak to him.
“Excuse me, can you tell me where I am?”

“You’re in a hot air balloon hovering thirty feet above this field,” comes the reply.

“You must work in Information Technology,” says the balloonist.

“I do,” says the man, “How did you know?”

“Well,” says the balloonist, “Everything you told me is technically correct, but it’s no use to anyone.”

“You must be in business,” says the man.

“I am,” says the balloonist, “How did you know?”

“Well,” says the man, “You don’t know where you are, you don’t know where you’re going, but you expect me to be able to help. You’re in the same position you were before we met, but now it’s my fault.”

 current word of the day: awesome

You know what’s awesome about Select-a-size paper towels?

NOTHING.

i love it when i need to grab a paper towel really quick and my hand comes back with a wad no wider than a square of toilet paper. 
that comes in handy when you’re frantically trying to clean up a spill.

Same with generic wal mart brand kitchen trash bags.  they get ripped faster than the spears family on dr. phil.  (god that was weak, and i really hate myself for it.)  but the bloom ones are fine.

Current thought:
PISSED.
eating an awesome flavored lean cuisine for lunch and i threw the box away, never to know again which variety it was…
i think i could eat this one like four times a day, though it might take four to actually fill me up.  And, as to why I’m eating a lean cuisine for lunch instead of a delicious sandwich from Chef’s: I’m trying to drop a few pounds. 
The holiday seanson is always a very deccadent time for me, and if i don’t do this, i’m going to have to buy all new pants.  FUCK THAT.
i was intentionally holding off on blogging as i didn’t really have anything to write about, so enjoy today’s nuggets.
i was also pondering drafting something really humorous after our company’s harrassment and discrimination training session: BUT I GOT NOTHING.

I got another Steven Seagal movie for Christmas.  Which is amusing.
Sometime in the early 00’s (is this how we’re going to annotate the first decade of this century?  I’ve taken an English class since ‘99 so I really don’t know)  my stepmom decided on bogus authority that I was a big Steven Seagal fan.
The reality of this situation is:
I MIGHT HAVE WATCHED UNDER SIEGE ONCE.
And that’s about as far as my affinty for Seagal goes.
It was right about the time I got my first DVD player, my stepmom must have decided I was the treasurer of the Official Steven Seagal fan club and that it was her intrinsic duty to bolster my burgeoning DVD collection with the man’s entire catalogue.  That, OR that  you can buy most Steven Seagal DVDs for $10 at Wal-Mart, and my step mom is a bargain shopper.  I probably average at least a pair of “new” Seagal flicks per year. 
So this year I got 2006’s Shadow Man a Seagal epic, currently rated with a paltry 4.1 rating out of 10 at imdb.com.
I’ve not wached it yet, but I might, either that or exchange it at wal mart for some toothpaste and/or lightbulbs.