Sunday, August 31, 2008

The New Campus

Welcome to the Worldwide Headquarters of Big Dave and Company. I am Big Dave, and I will be your tour guide here today on this exclusive tour of our 1,037 acre campus. Inside, you will see some of the most modern technology, architecture, and human resources technologies at work. You will also find some of the most innovative ideas and situations in the American blog scene. So please, don't be afraid at ask questions and we hope that you enjoy the tour!
Entering the building, you will find our foyer and reception area. This is where you will be greeted by our friendly and sexually promiscuous receptionist, who is unable to type, transfer a phone call, make coffee, take a message of any sort, or make entries into a day planner. She is also unable to answer any of your questions or help you in any way. She is, however, able to push the big red button on her desk that will summon an unpaid intern who will then be happy to help you in any way, shape, or form that he/she can.

As we pass the receptionist (business cards and bathroom stalls with her phone number will be available later in the tour) you will undoubtedly notice the Chris Masterson Jr. Memorial Water Slide. The water slide is named after a former Big Dave and Company copy editor who lost his freedom in a tragic water slide accident in which a 6-year old lost his pants. Chris is eligible for parole in 6-12 years, depending on his behavior. Each employee is entitled to use the water slide one time per day, with all-day usage of the facility for themselves and up to 16 guests on their birthday. Both of these generous offers are rarely take up, however, due to the campus' crippling lack of appropriate changing rooms, laundry facilities, or a swimming pool.
Please exercise extra caution as we make our way down this ultra-modern hallway, decorated by the most forward-thinking and trendy European designers of the Bulgarian minimalist design school. The hallways are one-of-a-kind, as they also function to provide top management officials and writers with access to their private, underground, valet parking garage and is therefore often choked with rush hour traffic and heavy truck traffic.
Through the door to the left you will see several of our unpaid interns hard at work using our copy machine. The machine was bought second-handed in an effort to cut down on construction costs. Although it is an older model, many of the unpaid interns have actually survived making copies with all limbs intact, and the machine itself has won many awards from agencies such as Greenpeace International and the Montana Energy Conservation Board for being both the least energy-efficient copy machine in the world, as well as having the largest number of moving parts. The machine can make over four copies a minute and is run by a 239-hp turbo diesel engine.
The new Big Dave and Company campus is of course smoke-free. But that doesn't mean that we have forgotten the needs of our colleagues who smoke. As we step out into the courtyard you can see the separate, heated and air conditioned building that we provide for the enjoyment of our smokers. The facility features the same amenities as any other break room for our employees to enjoy, provided they can find their way through the hedge maze before the end of their allotted break period. So far the smoking break room remains unused, although recently Jill from Accounting made it to within 15 feet of the door. Two employees, a monkey, and six unpaid interns have so far been lost in the quest.
I'm sorry, someone has a question? Yeah, you sir, in the back. What is that? That is state-of-the-art housing for our unpaid interns. We here at Big Dave and Company understand how difficult it can be to make ends meet when working on ones internship, so we provide all of our unpaid interns, who come from schools from all around the world, four-season luxury accommodations while working with us. We also provide them with with meals in our commissary which we will enter now right through this door.
This is the Big Dave and Company commissary, where employees and interns can get everything that they need to make it through the day at work, whether it be a hot meal or a could shoulder. The unpaid interns also take their meals here on a daily basis, with the food prepared by the top microwave chefs in the world. And by the best we mean the ones who just graduated from the least mediocre local community college.
Here are Mr. and Mrs. Henry St. Partick. The St. Patrick's don't actually work here or have any business here. As best as we can figure out they are the elderly couple who lived in the farmhouse that we raised in order to build our campus. Or at least we thought we had raised. Popular theory is now that the house actually still stands, either somewhere in the hedge maze or maybe in the southwest wing neat the HVAC units. Company architects are still not sure. Either way, the St. Patrick's continue to roam the halls in a futile effort to find their way to freedom or a nearby bingo hall. Please do not speak to or feed the St. Patrick's, for it will impare their ability to survive in the wild on their own.
Moving on past the St. Patrick's, I see that we have come to the Big Dave and Company Worldwide Headquarters Gift Shop. Unfortunately, at this time it is only stocked with this single jar of apricot jam. Look for a more varied inventory to come soon.
Well, that concludes the tour of our Big Dave and Company Worldwide Headquarters. I see that your ride is here and waiting for you. I hope that you have enjoyed your look insides the working of Big Dave and Company and that you will continue to be loyal and active readers. Thank you for your time and have a wonderful day.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Move It!

     Well Company, I must apologize for the last couple of days. I sincerely thought that there was a post of some sort set to go up for you guys on Thursday. Apparently I didn't. My apologies. As for Friday, well, it was a busy day and I just didn't get to it. Again, apologies. But you've survived. You are alright. You might have a scrape on the elbow, a bruise on your big toe, a touch of meningitis. Nothing you can't survive. We are back anyway, so the healing can begin. And we are back with big, big, big news.
     The top brass here at Big Dave and Company have recently signed a deal to move our worldwide headquarters to a new location. Lured by a lucrative tax break, the fistfulls of cash that were thrown at us, massive loopholes in local zoning ordinances, and the proximity to several topless dance clubs, the Big Dave and Company Worldwide Headquarters is moving into the lush, modern campus in Northern Wisconsin pictured above. It is a landmark day in the the illustrious history of Big Dave and Company, as we resrtucture ourselves to serve you better.
     While our Worldwide Headquarters is moving from our perch on shores of Lake Superior in Upper Michigan our regional offices in Sand River, Michigan; Mankato, Minnesota; San Francisco, California; St. Augustine, Florida; Kansas City, Missouri; St. Petersburg, Russia; Asuncion, Paraguay; Perth, Australia; and Windhoek, Namibia will continue to remain open and provide the same great services that they always have. We wouldn't be an almost-award winning blog without the their hard work. With the upcoming relocation of our Worldwide Headquarters comes many spectacular events. First of all is the always exciting Carry Our Shit to the U-Haul event, in which the person who carries the most of our things to the waiting truck gets the opportunity to write for Big Dave and Company for a day. Then there is the fun-for-all-ages Floor Scrub-a-thon, with the grand prize being a day with Big Dave, the Big Dave and Company head writer. And who can forget the Big Dave and Company Super Fun Rummage Sale of Shit That We Don't Want? That is going to be happening too. You can look forward to all of these events in the coming days as we here at Big Dave and Company perpare to move into out new campus in Northern Wisconsin. Look for a tour of the campus to be available tomorrow.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Recipe for Disaster

Here is an article for you to read.


     Okay Company, you and I both know that there is no way that this will end well.  First of all, I know lots of teachers.  Lots of them.  The university in my town pumps out two things: nurses and teachers.  So that is what I am surrounded by.  Most of my friends that don't work with me are teachers.  And I can tell you that for the most part, they like their kids.  And they like what they do.  But there is always that one kid...
     Yeah, it's true.  What the teacher wants to do to the kid depends on the discipline.  Shop teachers want to put their faces into a belt sander.  The soccer coach wants to tie them up in the nets and let exposure do the work.  The driver's ed instructor wants to park the van on the railroad tracks and child lock the doors.  The Spanish teacher wants to make them drink the water in Mexico.  My buddy is a math teacher and he pretty much just wants to pound their heads into oblivion on the desks.  
     And these are good, pious, Midwestern teacher types, so they are pretty reserved until the doors are closed, and look at what they want to do to the kids.  So imagine what a teacher in rural, north-central Texas would do.  Either a new teacher, overcome by stress, who finally meets the straw that breaks the camel's back.  Maybe a teacher who has been at it for 27 years and just can't take it anymore.  Maybe a teacher from the Colorado Rockies, who is driven over the edge by the flat, lifeless, Texas plains, stretching devoid of trees as far as the laws of physics will allow the world to see.  There are a lot of things in a tiny Texas town to make one go over the edge.  And you are going to give these people guns?
     "But some of the kids have guns Big Dave."  Well, of course they do.  They all do.  It's Texas.  You actually aren't allowed to leave the house without at least a Saturday night special in your sock.  Every vehicle, from the Ford F-150 that the quarterback drives to the El Camino that the president of the French club drives to your girlfriend's Toyota Corolla is equipped with a gun rack.  That's just how it is.  But you know what?  The teachers have guns too.  They are under the seat of their Buick out in the parking lot.  So I don't really see where it's a big issue.
     Secondly, why even bother?  This is T-E-X-A-S.  Everything is bigger in Texas.  The sky.  The nachos.  Hell, the Alamo can be seen from the moon, if the sun is catching it at the right angle.  And look at how big that access hatch in the roof of Texas Stadium is.  So you can imagine what kinds of guns they are carrying around there.  And you are going to give the teachers a pistol?  In Texas, getting shot with a pistol isn't even an event.  It's like getting hit with a pebble thrown by an autistic child.  So when Johnny Trenchcoat comes in wielding his shotgun that shoots bird shot out of one barrel and a rocket-propelled nuclear hand grenade out of the other one, what is the teacher going to do, make them laugh to death with their 9mm?  Let's think about this.  If you want to give the teachers a way to protect themselves and their students maybe you should give them an aircraft carrier.
     So now what have we accomplished David Thweatt, Superintendent of the Harrold Independent School District?  Well, first of all there is going to be a shootout next Tuesday outside Room 203 after sixth period.  I am not scheduling one or anything, but it wouldn't surprise me a whole lot.  And it would be awful.  Although seeing as how it's Texas, it would probably be like a scene from Walker: Texas Ranger that would devolve into some sort of martial arts fight that doesn't follow the laws of physics and in which the bad guys seem to have their feet in cement boots.  But even that isn't much prettier than a gunfight in a public school.  Second, you have just given the rest of the world another reason to look at Texas with an arched eyebrow and skeptical look on your face that says "Are you serious?  I mean, is that really for real?"  I mean, Texas is a lovely state but it has its share of ridiculousness.  And now you are going to put guns in the public schools?  I mean, nowhere but Texas would have a law that allows that to happen.  I think that if you look at the civil code for the State of Maine, you won't find some sort of "Hey, I don't see why you can't bring your .306 to school and pop a cap in the ass of whoever fails the test" law.  I am serious.  Just think about it.
     So anyway, good luck with your gun plan Harrold, TX.  I really hope that it goes well and that some crazy trucker wanders in off of US 287 and tries to hijack Mr. Loriss' Advanced Chemistry class during third period.  Then teachers can come running from classroom after classroom and popping a cap in everyone's ass.  I am sure no students will get in the way.   Maybe Philadelphia will follow suit.  Wouldn't that be grand?

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

None of That is True

     Okay Company, let me give you the lowdown on this Big Dave and Company: Investigative Report thing about the government using the BVM statures to spy on you.  I am pretty sure that it is not true.  First of all, Tico Rodriguez is not a reporter.  At least I don't think he is.  I think he is a used car salesman from Tempe, AZ.  I met him at an airport bar last week while I was piss drunk and he convinced me that he knew about a huge, breaking story that would make Big Dave and Company famous.  So I signed something that he had written in Spanish or Portuguese, I am not sure which, on a bar napkin that also happened to be stained with sweet vermouth and lemon juice.  But apparently that counts as a binding contract according to the Fifth Circuit US Court of Appeals in New Orleans.  Anyway, when I saw this business, I knew that I would have to do some research of my own on this not really a hot button issue.  Here is what I found:
    First of all, I don't believe that there is any sort of camera apparatus in any BVM statue anywhere.  There are two of them outside of my house as many of you know, and I check under, around, and inside each of them and found nothing but cobwebs and some dirt.  I even went around tow n and didn't find any there either.  I sent some of my unpaid interns on no-expense paid trips across the country, to places like Denver, CO; New Lexington, PA; Lamesa, TX; Washington D.C; and Hopkins Hollow, RI.  And in none of those places did any of them find a statue of the BVM with any sort of surveillance equipment contained within.  They did, however, find an old dog toy, you know, one of those fake news papers like the Daily Growl that squeaks when you squeeze it, they found one of those inside of a BVM in Bremerton, OR.  But other than that they were clean.  So I am pretty sure that unless we just happened to hit the dozen or so BVMs that the feds missed, Tico Rodriguez should probably lay off the peyote for a while.
     Secondly, Roland A. Smith is the Secretary to the Board of the Farm Credit Administration, but he never worked for the CIA.  He began his career working for rural farm lenders in the Carolinas.  There is no evidence whatsoever that he has ever set up any sort of surveillance equipment anywhere, let alone in a six foot tall statue of the BVM in a cemetery in Naples, FL.  He also never said that quote and has never heard of Tico Rodriguez.  So our apologies to Mr. Smith.
     Third, although much of PepsiCo's success in the 1980s can be attributed to advanced marketing and clever advertising, they probably didn't use the BVM network for market research, mostly because it doesn't exist.  But they did use the Jackson Brothers and that is equally inexcusable.  Wayne Calloway, you should really still be ashamed of that at least.
     The Clinton thing might be true; it wouldn't surprise me a whole lot.  I have an unpaid intern looking into it.  Don't worry, I didn't send the hot young chick.  She's washing my car.  I sent the 37-year old computer science major who still wears a pocket protector so he's safe.
     So I mist apologize for all this.  That is the last time that I ever sign anything on any kind of paper, napkin, cardboard box, denim, glass, lampshade, or any surface that was written by a guy whose name sounds like a Mexican liquor.  "Oh man, I so drunk on Tico Rodriguez last night, it was nuts."  "I'll have Tico Rodriguez and soda on the rocks please."  Oh man.  So anyway, that is going to be the last of the Big Dave and Company Investigative Reports as far as I am concerned.  I apologize to anyone who may have been mentioned in error, such as Pres. Bill Clinton, Mrs Smith and Calloway, Ambassador George Moose, or PepsiCo.  Tico Rodriguez, you might be a smooth talker and make a tasty taco dip, but you are still on my shit list. 

Big Dave and Company Investigative Report: Is the US Government Using BVM's to Spy On Its People?

     Hello Company, welcome to this very special Big Dave and Company Investigative Report.  We sent our Special Investigative Reporter Tico Rodriguez to investigate the connection between government spying and the recent proliferation of Blessed Virgin Mary statues.  Here is his report.

HOFFMAN, MN - Everyone in Hoffman knows Agnes Wolff's large white Victorian house on the corner of Florida Ave and 4th St. S.  Every day joggers, children on bicycles, and neighborhood dogs on the prowl pass by tranquil grotto near the corner of the lot, decorated with huge peonies and roses and tulips and lilies of the valley.  And right in the middle of the grotto, under a small white trellis, sits a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary (BVM).  Tucked away under the additional protection of a half-buried claws-foot bathtub, she smiles out on the town with a beautiful, benevolent smile.  Many of those who pass by the statue on a daily basis believe that the BVM is watching over them.  And she is.  Her eyes probe the daily activities on all of Hoffman's residents as secret government cameras and microphones recorded every movement and conversation that is occurring. 
     It's true.  Recently declassified documents obtained by Big Dave and Company Investigative Reports reveal that the CIA began systematically bugging American neighborhoods in 1971 as a way to counter potential Communist insurgency within our nation.  After discovering in March of 1970 that the KGB was using the wildly popular Russian nesting dolls as recording and data transmission devices to spy on American citizens, the CIA decided to take a page out of the enemy's book and Operation Saving Grace was initiated to root out the Communist menace.  Roland A. Smith, now the Secretary to the Farm Credit Administration Board, was a low level CIA operative at the time and was instrumental in the implementation of the plan.  "It became clear very early on that the one place that the KGB, despite being Godless cretins, would not look for bugs was inside religious idolatry. Using the Blessed Virgin Mary statues was an easy choice for us."  
     The statues were perfect for the CIA.  They were weather resistant, inconspicuous, hollow, and large enough to house the bulky camera equipment of the day.  Larger versions, over 5 feet tall, were able to support heavy radio frequency transmission antennas cleverly disguised as neon halos.  By autumn-1971 agents disguised as elderly women, religious zealots, and even men of the cloth had finished setting up a network of over 294,000 camera across the nation.  The first arrests of suspected Communists as a result of the BVM network were recorded in early 1972.  Says former CIA chief of technology and current mercenary-for-hire John Doe, who didn't want his actual name used, "we discovered that the BVM network allowed us unprecedented access into the lives of not only potential enemies of the state, but of our own people.
     In 1984 the CIA, in a bid to fund its growing operations in South America, struck a deal with Pepsi in which the soft drink giant would be allowed access to certain BVM network recordings of average American households for marketing purposes.  Wayne Calloway, who was in his first year as President of PepsiCo and who struck the deal with the CIA "was looking for a way to put Pepsi over the top, to vault us over Coke and win the cola wars.  The BVM network was perfect for us.  It allowed us to unobtrusively enter American homes and backyards and figure out exactly what Americans wanted in terms of beverage options.  It was a Godsend to be honest."  It was no use that 1985 was a banner year for PepsiCo, with it beginning distribution in China and becoming the largest beverage company in the beverage industry.
     The BVM network continued to be used by the US Government as time went on.  In the 90s the Clinton Administration used the advanced camera network to "scope chicks for Bill.  It was gaudy but he always had a voyeuristic streak to him, and there are some hot hotties in this country..." relayed former United States Ambassador to Senegal George E. Moose. "...We had a lot of fun with those tapes."  But it wasn't until the tragic and eye-opening events of September 11, 2001 that the BVM network took on a new significance. 
     Faced with the daunting task of rooting out American enemies within its borders once again, the newly formed Department of Homeland Security and the NSA realized that they already had a built-in network of spy equipment installed across the nation.  In 2003 the NSA spent 144.61 trillion dollars to update the BVM network with the latest in camera, infrared, microphone, and claws-foot bathtub technology.  Under the laws laid down in the USA PATRIOT Act over 75,000 people were arrested and detained based on surveillance from the BVM network.  It has become a key part in the fight against terrorism.  The BVM statues were so successful at rooting out American enemies some were actually places in Afghanistan in an attempt to discover the whereabouts of Osama bin Laden, with limited success.  When the first Secretary of Homeland Security, Tom Ridge, was asked about his department's use of the BVM network to spy on Americans, he had this to say.  "The general theme of it's-not-a-matter-of-if-but-when is legitimate." 
     Recently, many nations across the world have taken issue with the American BVM spy network. When asked about some of the detractors, current Secretary of State and former head of the National Security Agency Condoleezza Rice said "Punish France, ignore Germany, and forgive Russia."  France has called for an immediate end to all spying using the BVM network because, as a largely Catholic nation it considers the network to be a mockery of religion.  Germany contends that the BVM spy network hampers its small but rapidly growing electronic religious idol industry.  And Russia is asking for reparations or at least a public apology for offenses against it during the Cold War era using the BVM network.  Yet the CIA and the NSA continue to use the network to "...collect information that reveals the plans, intentions, and capabilities of our adversaries..."  Regardless of whether those people are adversaries or Agnes Wolff. 

Monday, August 25, 2008

Moving In Weekend

     Hello Company, it's good to be with you again.  And it's good to see the sun again.  We here at Big Dave and Company have spent the past weekend tucked away in out super secret bunker beneath the streets of Wilmington, Delaware because it was the second-most dangerous weekend of the year back at home.  The most dangerous, like in most college towns, is usually Graduation Weekend.  The second-most dangerous weekend is Moving In Weekend.  Yeah.  That is the weekend before classes start when all of the college kids, usually accompanied by their parents, move their things into the dorms and run down apartments that surround campus.  It's always a gorgeous weekend, and this one has been no exception.  And it's usually not terribly hot, which is good.  I fondly remember my Moving In Weekends from the past when the weather is like it is today. Sunny, not warm, with a cool breeze off the lake.  It takes me back to a beige, cement block 12 x 12 room filled with cheap furniture and posters.  Those were good times.  And they are good times for the kids experiencing that today.  But once you have moved on into the real world after college, and you still live in a college town, Moving In Weekend is awful.
     There are a lot of reasons why it's awful.  First of all, by the time August comes along things have kind of settled down into a general summer malaise.  Sure there is a steady stream of SUV's towing boats and RV's cruising through town, but those people spread out across the area and don't bother us too much.  So we are like a cat lying in a sunbeam, happy and fat and just loving the way things are and all of the sudden BAM!  Eight thousand twenty-somethings come rolling into town all at once.  Now that's a shock to the system.  Seriously, the energy level in this town jumps about sixty-fold on Moving In Weekend.  The stores suddenly become nuts.  The bars suddenly become packed.  There are about eleventy billion more cars on the roads.  And there are people screaming in the streets at all hours of the day and night.  You can't even get a tin roof sundae at Frost Treats without setting up a tent the night before like you are in line for concert tickets.  It's ridiculous.
     It's especially ridiculous if you have already graduated, because as one gets older the traditional college activities become less and less exciting.  And the people who all of the sudden are surrounding you and engaging in those activities with uncommon zeal start to piss you off.  So I guess that what I am saying is that you start to feel that most of the kids who re-emerge on Moving In Weekend are douchebags.  And several are.  And I am too.  But the last thing any town needs is more douchebags, especially when the weather is nice and they are outside.  That is the worst part of Moving In Weekend.
     Now, there are some nice things about Moving In Weekend.  Most businesses, especially retail and restaurants do really well.  Suddenly there are a lot more pretty girls and handsome guys running around for the single set to prey upon.  And there are a lot more out of state license plates to take to pressure of the police off us locals.  And the townies can stop preying on each other and turn their attention towards their more traditional foes.  But despite it all it's really a weekend that everyone here at Big Dave and Company likes to avoid.  Have you ever been sitting in your dark house, relaxing comfortably on the couch right in front of the sliding glass door watching the tube, maybe watching Charles in Charge on DVD or doing some home shopping on QVC, when your best friend Dan sneaks around into the backyard and knocks loudly on the glass door and scares the hell out of you?  You jump straight into the air, levitate maybe two feet off the couch, and land four feet away in a corner holding the TV remote like a weapon with every hair on your body standing on end.  Meanwhile, Dan in lying on the patio wheezing and laughing so hard that he pisses his pants.  Have you ever had that happen?  Well, summer in a college town is like you when you are lying on your couch.  The school year is like after it's over and Dan has come inside and you two are eating Chex Mix and playing air hockey in the basement.  But Moving In Weekend is like that moment when Dan's hand as just struck the glass, and you are launching yourself into the stratosphere and you heart is actually stopping in your chest.  Yeah, that moment is Moving In Weekend.  And nobody likes that moment except for Dan.  So I guess you'd say that he's like the students.  And that is why on Moving In Weekend, Big Dave and Company moves out.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Customer Appreciation Day

     Today was customer appreciation day at my place of employment.  Most places in the retail and entertainment industries have customer appreciation days.  And they are all a crock of shit.  Because, although we should, none of us really appreciate our customers.  We may appreciate the ones who are very nice, or who don't give us much of a hard time.  I appreciate the hot ones too.  But on the whole, we don't like a lot of the people that we serve.  That being said, it's still always a good idea to have some sort of customer appreciation event just to make your sources of income happy.  At my work they have a big cookout with chicken and burgers and brats and potato salad and huge sheet cakes.   The employees who make and serve the food do a wonderful job of getting all the "customers" and employees taken care of.  
     I put the work "customers" in quotations because one of the biggest crocks about Customer Appreciation Day is that so few of the people who come out are actually customers.  "Wait, that doesn't make sense.  If they are at your business then they are customers." I heard you say it Company, don't back down from it.  Here is the thing though: if you are in the service industry you get to know the bulk of your customers pretty well.  You see them on a daily basis sometimes.  But most of the faces showing up on "Customer" Appreciation Day were people we have never seen before.  And will never seen again.  Give away free food and everyone comes out of the woodwork.
     And oh my God are they gluttons.  A guy walked by with a piece of chicken, a brat, and two burgers, PLUS all the sides and desserts.  And I bet they went up again.  They had to start giving out meal tickets this year, entitling you to go through the line once, because last year they had people going through time and time again.  One lady last year ate most of a sheet cake by herself.  She went up the first time and took like five pieces, sat at a table and scarfed it down, somehow managed to not only get back up but not going into a diabetic coma, and had four more.  It was sort of like a train wreck in a way: it was deeply unpleasant to see but it was hard to look away.  The year before that people were coming in with Tupperware containers and filling them with food and taking it home.  It is expected that there will be a few people who just eat and don't partake in your business activity, who don't shop or gamble or actually see a movie on Customer Appreciation Day, but to show up with an empty Country Crock container and leave with it full of potato salad and brat remnants is unacceptable.  So I am glad that they put an end to that as well.
    So Customer Appreciation Day was a success for the most part.  It was busy and that is always good.  And they let us employees in on the free food too, which was really nice of the bosses.  But the bottom line is this: Very few people actually appreciate anyone on Customer Appreciation Day.  The employees don't really appreciate the customers for the most part.  The regular customers don't appreciate all the people who only show up for the free food and so they don't show up.  And no one really appreciates all the hard work the food service employees do on Customer Appreciation Day.  And we should.  But it doesn't matter.  In the end Customer Appreciation Day is a farce, and it's all about getting as much for free as you can.  Kind of like any other day, isn't it? 

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Sasquatch and the North Georgia All-Stars: Update!

      I was eating breakfast the other day.  That, in and of itself, is not remarkable.  I do that on a semi-regular basis.  What is important is the article that I saw when I opened up my copy of the paper.  The headline screamed out "Big(foot) hoax: Summer discovery of a man-ape's 'remains' was actually a gorilla suit."  Well no shit!  I am pretty sure that I already told you that the other day.  
     Yeah, the supposed Bigfoot find that I said was totally a lie turned out to be a total lie.  I hate to say I told you so but I told you so.  And you didn't listen you ungrateful punk.  I am sorry.  That was uncalled for.  I don't really think that you are an ungrateful punk.  What I think is that you should listen to me more often.  Because I totally called that the two good-old boys from North Georgia and the Las Vegas sleazy promoter were just trying to pull the wool over the eyes of the world.  And what do you know, they came up with a fourth story that they never told us before.
     Matt Whitton, Rick Dyer, and Steve Biscardi came out, and along with another Sasquatch researcher Steve Kulls told of how two unidentified men handed over to them the specimen, for an undisclosed sum, claiming that they had found the corpse.  And conveniently, it was frozen in a block of ice.  Wow.
     So what do we do boys?  How do we go about this?  How do we prove that this is legit?  Well, let's take a hair sample.  Brilliant!  But, getting a DNA test done on the hair sample would be expensive  and possibly embarrassing if nothing comes of it.  So those are best left to college-type professors and crews from The Discovery Channel.  Did I mention that it's expensive?  So our boys take the hair sample that they cut off the "corpse" and they decide to burn it.  I am not sure how that is going to prove anything.  But it's a mute point because the hair didn't burn.  No, it melted.
     I don't have a lot of hair.  Well, not on my head at least.  So I don't really remember a whole lot about it, but I do know one thing.  Hair doesn't melt.  Not under realistic conditions.  Hair burns.  Ever sit too close to a campfire when someone throws like eleventy billion pieces of wood on it?  Yeah, that is hair that you smell burning then.  That sort of acrid smell that everyone can identify.  You are smelling it right now.  And if you think about it you will be able to see that hair doesn't melt.  It burns.  And thank God that out boys figured that out eventually.  I think that Stevie was the one that figured it out, he seems to be something resembling normal.
     But our boys were not raised quitters.  They continued to thaw the corpse. And about an hour later the feet began to show.  It was then that they realized that maybe they had their hands on a fake.  Wow.  I am almost speechless.  So what's wrong, the melting hair didn't do that for you?  It took plastic feet to get that through to you?  That's messed up.  I am pretty sure that these two shouldn't be allowed on the streets of the Atlanta Metro area, because they are a danger to themselves and to others.  And to Sasquatch, since they obviously have no idea what he is all about.  
     Here is the kicker.  Here is the best part.  Here is the rubber foot hanging out the edge of a giant ice cube: Whitton is a police officer on leave from the Clayton (Ga) County Police Department.  Well, now Whitton's chief is filing the paperwork to get Whitton fired.  Yep, fired for lying about Sasquatch on his medical time.  Well, actually, the termination proceedings are in motion because "Once he perpetrated a fraud, that goes into his credibility and integrity," explained Whitton's police chief Jeff Turner.  "He has violated the duty of a police officer."  Wow that's rough.  Well it's a good thing then that Whitton and Dyer's Bigfoot Tip Line has added "big cats and dinosaurs" to its repertoire.  They are going to need that extra income once Whitton is bended over and pounded in his behind by the Clayton County Police Department until he has no job.  If they can't find any of those other legendary beasts that they search, maybe they can try crawling back under the rock that they came from.  Then they'd be home.  And they would till be ably to hustle local re-re's.  And that's what life is all about, isn't it?

Friday, August 22, 2008

Our Night at Way Dam: Update!

Several of you, The Pharaoh not included, have asked about how to find this video, provided to us free of cost by Banking Planes from her blog.  This is what happened when The Pharaoh drank too much and passed out and his a-hole friends decided to mess with him.  Yeah, he's inside the tent, and yeah, that's him you hear snoring, and yeah, his alarm is going off, and yeah we are poking him with a rake.  Isn't it great?


Thursday, August 21, 2008

A Double Edged Razor Blade

     Boys hate shaving.  Isn't that right boys?  I am sure you girls hate shaving too when you have to (this rhetorical question doesn't apply to women in certain European countries).  I recently returned to work and society from an 11-day vacation and one of the things that I relished in was that I didn't have to pull out my razor for roughly 9 days.  It was great.  Yet, by my last day of vacation I was looking forward to scraping my face with a super sharp piece of metal.  Why?  Because I had the beginnings of a pretty impressive beard going, and quite frankly, it was prickly and itchy.  So, if I hate shaving, but I hate what results when I don't shave, what am I supposed to do?  That's a double edged sword.  Or I guess that in this case it would be a double edged razor blade.
     I am not sure why I hate shaving so much anyway.  I think it's just because I am lazy.  If I let my hair grow for a few days until it starts to get a little longer and then I shave it off, it actually feels pretty good.  It feels clean and refreshing, and I like that feeling.  When ones hair gets long it gets hot and sweaty.  Why do you think that girls are always putting their hair up when working out, or holding it up while dancing at the club?  Because it gets hot.  Clean shaven is cool and refreshing.  So I don't know why it bugs me to do it so much.  Maybe I am just lazy.  That is the most likely reason I would guess.  But honestly, it only takes me about two minutes to shave my face if I put my mind to it, about five to do my head if I am really booking.  So that would mean that I am pretty lazy, no?  Well I am.  It's not even that I don't like razor burn, because I rarely suffer from it.  I am usually okay on that front.  I just can't figure out for the life of me what it is.
     Seeing as how I don't like to shave one would think that I would just do the lazy thing and grow a beard.  But I can't.  I have tried.  I do pretty well when my hair is new and soft and lying there all nice.  But eventually it gets prickly.  And dirty.  And nasty.  And hot.  And there is something deeply disconcerting about shampooing one's face.  Plus, I think I look strange with a beard.  But that is probably because I have never had one.  My dad has always had one and I don't know how he does it.  I never could.  So after about 4 or 5 days I usually give up on it and whip out the Mach 3, usually in a fit of rage because my nascent beard has been scratching my chest all night long.  So I don't like to shave.  And I don't like the beard that results from that.  So what are my options?
     Nair.  I have actually seriously considered this.  I am not joking.  Both on my head and my face.  But there are downsides.  One, it's expensive.  Two, I would still have to do it all the time.  Third, people would think I am even stranger than they do now if I was doing that business.  Fourth, I am afraid of what would happen if I used Nair on my face.  I am afraid that it would irritate my face and I would be covered with red splotches as I walked around through my day.  I am also afraid that my hair wouldn't grow back evenly.  That is not such a problem with my face, where I would be performing hair removal more often, but on my head where I usually only deal with it once a week or so.  What would happen if the Nair messed up my follicles and my hair grew back like my lawn: really thick in areas and barely in others?
     Electrolysis.  Yeah, if I were to get electrolysis on my face and the top of my head I would be even more broke than I already am.  Seriously, I would drain the local supplies of energy.  So let's not even talk about that one.
     Waxing.  Well, this could be done.  There is nothing like ripping the hair out of your most sensitive areas with hot wax; you ladies can attest to this I am sure.  I haven't really researched this issue beyond watching the 40-Year Old Virgin but I am sure that it would not end well.  I am relatively confident that it would be successful, until you got up close I am sure.  I would guess that then it is pretty rough.  And knowing me I would have wax in my nose, eyes, ears, and I would probably be short an eyebrow by the time it was all said and done.  And that shit doesn't grow back.  And that is hair that I want to keep.  So no, no waxing for me.  I am not willing to risk having a unibrow just to not have to shave.  If those are my two choices then hand me the disposable Bic.  Hell, hand me a rusty, dull scissors.  I would rather shave my upper lip with that then spend the rest of my life penciling in an eyebrow lost in a tragic waxing incident.
     So I guess it's back to the razor for me.  And pulling a Home Alone every time when I put cologne on right after I shave.  But oh well.  It's better than having a big scratchy beard I guess.  And way better than using Nair.  And way, way better than accidentally waxing something I don't want waxed.  Maybe I should get an electric razor and let modern technology do the work for me.  Then it's like I am mowing the lawn, but it's on my face.  And who doesn't like to mow the lawn?

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Gorbachov: The Music Video

     There are some pretty awful videos out there.  Basically just type anything into the search bar on YouTube.  Or spend an hour watching MTV if you can stand it.  Because your brain might melt.  And much of that is because there are so many awful videos.  The days of videos like "Take On Me" by A-ha or Chris Isaak's "Wicked Game" are long gone.  We have all those terrible rap videos with cars driving around and sometimes attractive girls shaking parts galore.  But they are terrible.  But sometimes, especially these days, you come across a video that takes awfulness to a new level.  You come across this video:


     I am sorry that you had to live through that.  I've had to live through that several times, and actually it caused me to spend several weeks in intensive care.  They actually took me to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN to study the effects of this awful video on the human body and brain.  That's how bad it is.  Hardcore sent it to me one day out of the blue, and I couldn't be more upset about it.  I mean, seriously Hardcore.  Why would you do that to your friend?  To put them through that.  Well, since we have lived through it a couple of times we might as well look at it and analyze it together.
     First of all, let's talk about the one good thing in this video.  I don't know where they found these girls, but fantastic!  The young ladies in this particular piece of true awfulness are absolutely gorgeous.  They grow them right in Russia, believe me.  And the dresses that they put them in are perfect.  That is the one thing that music videos today still do right.  That being said...
     Okay, I have never been to Russia, but I bet that they have a wheat field, a foundry, and a decrepit palace all within 3 km of one another.  So get in the Lada and go out there and shoot some actual video.  I know that if you CGI the shit out of everything it makes it look darker, more stark, and more ominous but you know what?  It also makes it look more cartoonish and ridiculous.  Maybe that's what you are going for, I don't know.  But the question is...why the hell would you go for that?
     Okay, if you are a band that is basically in love with Mikael Gorbachov (which is how the Russians spell it by the way) I could understand why you'd have the dead Red Army and Navy attacking your hot women.  But what's with all the police tape?  Yeah, I am talking about all that police tape with Cyrillic writing all around every time they show the band?  What purpose does that serve?  What does it even say?  And what police department donated that to your project?  What about the red police tape?  Is that biohazard?  Are you a biohazard?  I am very confused and I can read most Russian.  I really think that you should have removed the police tape potion of your video budget and used that money to hire another smokin' hot Russian babe.
     Okay, so then it appears that Braveheart shows up in your video.  Okay, maybe not Braveheart but I am pretty sure you got this guy out of one of those awful shows that go right into syndication and that you only see on WGN or your local CW station at 4 am on a Tuesday.  Yeah.  And this guy is supposed to be Mikael Gorbachov.  First of all, I've seen real pictures of Gorbachov, and he is not that built.  He could have sucked down as many protein shakes as he wanted to and still not turned out that ripped.  And he really wasn't that mean.  I will give the video a little credit though.  At least they got to spot on his head.  Because in Western eyes, Gorbachov is not Gorbachov without the big spot.  So kudos on that one ANJ.
      At the end, they apparently end up going to one of the race tracks from MarioKart 64, you know, the one where it's a tropical island and you race around the beach on the sand?  Yeah, that one.  Because the sky is super blue and it is raining Coca Cola and Twinkies and there are weird palm-like trees everywhere.  In fact, I think I saw Koopa Troopa cruise by in the background.  All the girls rip off their already revealing Russian peasant clothes and are apparently dressed like the girl on the CD cover of Goin' South.  And apparently they all proceed to engage in blatant sexual innuendo at every turn.
     WELL NO SHIT!  Of course they love Gorbachov.  He brought them Twinkies and Coke and turned their women into hot, free sluts.  Seriously.  If I lived in a country full of hot women who had to do chores and eat beet soup all the time, and a guy came through and turned them into scantily clad vixens who do nothing but fellate popsicles all the time I would revere him too.  Plus, did you see the way he was chugging that vodka in the video?  That's impressive.  So I guess that I've figured out why they love him so much and I don't blame them.
     That doesn't excuse the awfulness of the video.  The guy who made it is real happy with it and thinks that it is "over the top."  And boy is it ever.  It's certainly nothing that I can figure out.  And best of all, it's nothing that I would care to watch.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Am I Smarter Than A Crayfish?

    At right is a picture of a crayfish.  Ugly little bastards, aren't they?  They are closely related to the lobster, in fact they are basically a small, freshwater version.  They are even said to taste like lobster by people who eat them.  And lots of people do.  They are used most often in Southern and Creole cooking, in soups and stews and jambalaya and such.  Supposedly delicious.  I don't know, I don't care to try one.  They live in streams around North America, preferring rocky areas with flowing water and sandy bottoms.  They like to burrow into the sand under rocks and hide out during the day, mostly because they are nocturnal.  They like to eat water bugs and other insects, and if you use a piece of hot dog as bait, they LOVE that.  When you try to catch them they flip over on their backs and they swim very, very fast.  And I am very ashamed; because I think that they are smarter than me.
     Yep.  I said it.  I don't think that I am smarter than a crayfish.  I know that I am smarter than a fifth grader, because I almost always beat them when I watch that show.  Plus, I've graduated fifth grade and they haven't yet.  And crayfish don't even go to school.  But I still think that they are smarter than I am.  Because whenever Sister and I go to catch them it always takes us like two days and at least 4 gallons of gas.  And since she usually holds the jug with the holes punched in the lid, and I work the lacrosse-stick-looking thing, I am thinking that it has nothing to do with her.  I am always crouched over the water, staring at the bottom, lifting rock after rock, and I can never find them.
     I don't think that they are shape shifters.  I read a bunch of biology books and magazines, like the Journal of Biology or the International Journal of Biological Sciences.  I even looked up zoology in a dictionary, and not just any dictionary, one of those huge ones that they put at the end of a row of shelves at the library, you know, the one that's on the little swivel stand and always seems to be opened to a dirty word?  Yeah, that one.  Well, none of those said anything about crayfish.  Except the dictionary of course.  They had a definition.  In fact, Merriam-Webster had this to say:

...

Well, they didn't seem to have anything about that either.  At least not on their online dictionary.  But in my 1933 Webster's Collegiate Dictionary that I have they say this:

crayfish (n): Any of a family of numerous fresh-water crustaceans closely resembling the lobster, but much smaller

Yeah, they basically just told me what I already knew.  But the point is that nowhere in that definition does it mention the word shape-shifter.  But they always just disappear when I dip my net into the water to scoop them up.  On the rare occasion that I actually do get one in my net, usually a rock or a stick comes with it.  Yeah, it brings its own camouflage.  So then, if I happen to reach into the net, it can CLAW THE SHIT OUT OF ME!  Yeah, they have claws.  And they use them.
     Mostly they use them to hang on for dear life to the net when we try to put them into the jug.  Which I don't understand, because up in the net you are way up in the air with no water or sand, just that stick we talked about earlier and a huge, paralyzing hear of heights.  Listen, just let go and get plopped into the jug so we can go back and feed you to turtles.  But you already knew that, didn't you crayfish?  God, you really are smart.
     Now, let's be honest.  I am a man.  A human man.  I have a big, sexy brain sloshing around inside of my skull.  And it's connected to miles of nerve endings that tell me that I could easily outsmart you Mr. Crayfish.  I could build a crayfish trap, which is pretty much like a minnow trap with a bigger opening.  But I am very lazy and don't care to do that.  I could put a piece of hot dog on a hook and dangle it in the water and you will latch on to it.  But I am cheap.  I would rather not have to feed you to catch you.  Plus, I want to eat the hot dog myself.  So I will be there, wading into the water or perched on top of some rocks with my lacrosse net, well, Turtle Boy's lacrosse net, watching and waiting.  Because I might not be smarter than a crayfish, and I might be cheap and lazy, but I am also determined.  Very determined.  So keep doing your thing.  I am hooked up with the biggest and fastest NASA computer and the most integrated, futuristic lacrosse net technology.  I will get you.  Because the turtles think you are delicious.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Two Reasons Why I Am Angry with ESPN

     Company, I usually try to keep this a relatively sports-free zone, but all I've been doing for the last 4 days or so has been watching or listening to or paying sports.  So please indulge me one more time as I vent about the two reasons why I an angry with ESPN:

1.)  They aren't showing the Astros at Brewers game on ESPN2 like they were supposed to because the Little League World Series went like 10 minutes long.  So the game I want to see, a rare opportunity to watch the baseball team that I root for, is on some obscure ESPN affiliate that nobody gets except for Foxy Roxy's husband.  I cleared my whole evening out to get pre-empted by a bunch of 4'9" tall punk-asses from Connecticut?  No way.  It's the Little League World Series people.  NOBODY CARES ABOUT THE LITTLE LEAGUE WORLD SERIES!  Even the kids in the Little League World Series don't care about it all that much.  I mean, haven't you ever seen South Park?  GOD!  The only people who care about the Little League World Series are the parents of the kids who are playing in it.  And they are insufferable anyway.

2.)  Seriously, ESPN, can you crawl out of the Boston Red Sox asshole for like two minutes?  Please?  Two minutes is all that I ask.  Oh, and that you can't crawl into the Cubs' or Yankees' ass during that time.  Thanks.

Okay Company, that all the more sports, except for maybe a little ore Olympics, that I will subject you to for a while.  Thanks for your patience in this very important matter.

Sasquatch and the North Georgia All-Stars

     So...a couple of idiots in Georgia have claimed that they have found the body of Bigfoot in the Georgia hills.  And no, I don't mean the country Georgia that has been in the news so much lately, I mean the US state.  You know, where Michael Vick let the dogs out.  Where the Dukes of Hazzard lived.  Where you have to drive through on your way to Florida, unless you are coming in from the west and have to drive through Alabama instead.   That Georgia.  
     Matt Whitton and Rick Dyer plan to announce the details of their alleged Bigfoot discovery at a news conference in Palo Alto, CA, but it really doesn't look good.  There are an awful lot of cards stacked against them in this one.  First of all, they claim to have the 7'7" tall corpse, which they say weighs 550 lbs and had 16" long feet crammed in a chest freezer.  Real professional guys.  Let's cram it into the freezer in Ricky's basement and see what happens.  I know you want to preserve the body, but at least find a friendly morgue.  No, let's cram it into the freezer.  Great idea.  I know you have to keep the body from decomposing while the DNA tests are run, but come on.  Stuffing it in the freezer just screams amateur scam artist.  Actually, it screams 'We are from Georgia!"
    Second, Dumb and Dumber have teamed up with a man named Tom Biscardi, a Las Vegas promoter who is considered a scam artist by other Bigfoot hunters.  So wait, let me get this straight, the looney birds don't even trust or like this guy?  That is not exactly a ringing endorsement.  Actually, Biscardi lends a sort of sleazy carnival freak-show vibe to this whole thing.  I can see him dressed like a carnival barker, luring unsuspecting Midwestern families into his dingy tent just off the midway and peeling back the curtain to show the poorly embalmed head of a gorilla in a dimly lit bell jar.  Yeah, it just smells of that type of business.  And the more of this article you read the worse it gets.
     Our boy Whitton, although he works for a local Georgia police department, has an alias.  I know, sometimes I go by the alias Douchely McNutspank III, but there is no way in the world that is for real and I have never even written it down before now, let alone had it officially subscribed to me in any way, shape, or form.  But somewhere, someone knows Matt Whitton as Gary Parker, which just screams lack of credibility.  If you are on the up and up, you really shouldn't need an alias.  But then again, you shouldn't be hanging around with a Las Vegas promoter who is desperate for media attention either.  So what do I know.
    Another reason why this really seems like a scam is that Matty-boy and Ricky have managed to roll out three vastly different stories of how they found this corpse.  Now that is just not trying guys.  If you are going to try to pull the wool over our eyes at least come out with one story and get it straight with one another.  Don't come up with three stories, only one of which is believable.  Take a look at these beauties:
     Story One:  A former felon shot the Sasquatch and the duo followed it into the woods.  First of all, why are you hanging around with a former felon?  That doesn't do much for your credibility.  Second, felons aren't allowed to own or use guns, and they are certainly not allowed to hunt.  Third, why would this "former felon" just allow you to follow the animal he shot into the woods and take it.  Wouldn't you think he'd want at least a piece of the credit?  Oh yeah, that's right.  He's not supposed to have a gun, so he'd be in trouble.  How convenient.  Oh, and Dyer is a former corrections officer.  So I am sure he'd be hanging around an armed former felon.  Seriously guys, do you think that I am retarded?
     Story Two:  Whitton and Dye find a family of Bigfoots (Bigfeet?) in the North Georgia mountains.  Okay, this is ridiculous on so many levels.  First of all, if you are as serious as you claim to be, you think that you would have handled this differently.  First of all, you would have had a video camera, or at least a regular camera, with you and you would have some awesome pictures of this Bigfoot family.  Second of all, you would think that you would be making every effort to live trap a member of this family instead of stuffing a dead specimen in a Frigidaire.  I mean, that is what serious specimen hunters would do.  Wow.  Why even bother telling the world this one.
     Story Three:  Our boys found a corpse with open wounds while hiking in the woods.  Now this one I can believe.  Most things are just sort of stumbled upon while bumbling around.  Bodies are found by boaters all the time that dive teams can't find.  You always find your car keys one you have stopped looking for them.  So I could see them wandering around the woods and stumbling upon something.  But I could also see them making the whole thing up.  And I believe that one much more.
     So how else is these guys' credibility eroding.  Well, as of Friday when I tried it, and when the Associated Press writer writing this article tried it, Matt and Rick's website at www.bigfoottracker.com wouldn't work.  Well isn't that convenient?  You post this discovery, complete with photos on your website, and then when the heat turns up suddenly those pictures and claims are unavailable.  Now, I can hear you defending these guys, Company.  "Maybe they just had a ton of traffic all the sudden and things came crashing down.  It happens in the computer world."  Okay, I will give you that.  And it may just be coincidence.  But giving these boys' track record, I think we can be skeptical.  In fact I think we should.
     I am not surprised that the photos are suddenly unavailable because some experts are beginning to shed doubt on them already.  Jeffery Meldrum, a Bigfoot researcher and Idaho State University professor claimed that "...the pictures cast serious doubt on their claim.  It just looks like a costume with some fake eyes thrown on top for effect."  Wow.  That's rough.  So is that the deal?  Let's take a fake Bigfoot costume and throw it in a freezer and call it good.  That's not even trying.  You think Biscardi would have ponied up a little bit of cash to make this thing look legitimate.  But I guess not.  
    So I suppose we will see in coming weeks what this amounts to.  I suppose that with some video and photos and maybe a good DNA test result this could be or real, but I seriously doubt it.  Because, quite frankly, the evidence seems to stack up pretty strongly against these guys.  So whatever they are selling I am certainly not buying.  If you do believe this, well, then you are a moron.  And I have the Loch Ness Monster in my bathtub if you want to see it.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Stupid Gadgetry

     So I was cruising through some new Google Gadgets to try and find some Cool stuff to put around the edges of Big Dave and Company, you know, to keep you coming back.  Now I know Company, you are deep, and you come here for the content, not for the looks.  You like us for us.  But it never hurts to put a little makeup on once in a while, no?  It never hurts to doll yourself up, even if you are already great.  So anyway, I was out searching for the blog version of a push up bra and I started seeing some pretty disconcerting things.  There were some cool games, and some good gadgets, but then there were some really stupid things.  Let's talk about those.
     Someone has created a Fairy Art of the Day gadget.  Why the hell would you do that?  What kind of lame, pansy-ass, Magic loving emo freak are you that you would want a new example of fairy art on your blog every day?  Seriously?  Okay, thanks, I needed that.  I know some people who would love to have a new example of lame fairy art on their blog every day, people who dress in all black and listen to music about slitting wrists that would make most people slit their wrists.  Or at least poke their eardrums out with a spork.  And they are sweet and caring and even fun people.  But I don't get the whole fairy art thing.  I mean, do you think that they are real fairies?  Because they're not.  Do you think that Tinkerbell is going to suddenly appear out of your computer screen and whisk you away to a magical fairy land where you sit on marshmallows and your stepfather can't yell at you anymore and your math homework is never due and you know all the answers anyway?  Because that is not going to happen.  Do you think that by having fairies on your emo blog and fairies on your world history notebook you will be less socially awkward and some boy will like you more?  Because that only works if you are a boy.  Just kidding.  But seriously, take your Fairy Art Picture of the Day and go watch anime reruns and sort your bottles of black mascara.
     Just as I was recovering from the Fairy Art of the Day I saw the Endangered Species of the Day gadget, and that brought me right back into the red.  Okay, seriously, I have some problems with this one too.  First of all, who wants to see all sorts of pictures of animals that are about to be extinct?  That's depressing.  You might as well get a Tombstone of the Day gadget, or maybe a Refugee Camp of the Day picture gadget, because all of those things are more depressing than the lame-o who had the Fairy Art of the Day gadget on their blog.  "But Big Dave, many endangered species are quite beautiful and by having this gadget it helps increase awareness and that can help save them."  Shut up.  Like having a picture of a Guam Micronesian Kingfisher on Anne...Straight From the Hip (learn to capitalize Anne!) is going to help save a single specimen.  Especially since that picture is going to be gone tomorrow and a picture of a Roque Chico de Salmor Giant Lizard will be up in its place.  And you know what?  That one is not going to be helped either.  And seriously, if these species are so endangered, then how come there are so many pictures of them all over the place?  If there are only 400 Mongolian Beavers left floating around out there then how come there are 8500 different pictures that come up when I type that into Google Image Search?  Yeah, most of them aren't actually pictures of Mongolian beavers, but I don't care.  They still come up.  All I have to say is that if these "endangered" species are in so much trouble then why are they so widely photographed?  There are lots of photographs of college co-eds and they certainly aren't endangered.  I rest my case.
     The last gadget that I sort of have a problem with is the Drill Bit Size Chart.  Yeah, you read that correctly.  The Drill Bit Size Chart.  If you had asked me to name 1000 different gadgets that I would expect to find in Google Gadgets, that wouldn't have made the list.  The Catholic Rhythm Method Countdown gadget might have (I really hope that that doesn't exist) but the Drill Bit Size Chart would not have.  I am tempted to put it up for you guys to look at just to prove that it's there and because it's so ridiculous.  Ummm...I don't even know how to describe it.  It's pretty much what it says.  it's a chart of drill bit sizes in both Imperial (inches) and metric (millimeters) and conversions and how they compare.  Wow.  I am not sure who would want that on their blog.  I am sure that there is an industrial blog somewhere (there are a bunch, trust me.  I put the Big Dave and Company research department on it and they found a bunch.  None of which are really worth reading if you aren't in that particular trade unless you are trying to battle insomnia or increase the level of confusion in your life) that would be incomplete without a Drill Bit Size Chart but you know what?  I don't want to be involved with those types of blogs.  Unless they are a Blogger Blog of Note.  Then I will gladly hump their proverbial leg until they get me some recognition.  But the fact that someone took the time to create this gadget, especially if they did it just for fun and not for some specific blog, well that just makes me sad.  Sadder than the emo kid with their Fairy Art of the Day business.
     So, to make a long story short there are a lot of strange and unusual and retarded gadgets out there.  I am going to pick one out for you guys to look at and hopefully enjoy.  Don't worry, it won't be a retarded one.  It will be just about what you expect.  Well, I might be going out on a limb by putting on a little makeup for you, but I am not going to go crazy.  I don't want to look the Fairy Art of the Day emo kid. 

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Two Reasons Why I Am Angry with Major League Baseball

Editor's Note:  This post was written at approximately 11:41 PM EDT last night, and may not reflect the actual outcomes of events related within.  Thanks.
1.)  I take 14.95 of my admittedly not hard-earned dollars every year and pay it to Major League Baseball so I can listen to the radio broadcast of my Milwaukee Brewers over the internet.  I know, I should probably be spending that money on drug rehab or Epsom salts or something, but I like to listen to Bob Uecker and Jim Powell and hear what is going on with my team.  And it's actually a really good deal.  For $14.95 I can hear the broadcast of every game, from both home and away broadcast, and I can even hear the Spanish-language broadcasts if they are available.  So I understand that I am getting a lot and not paying a whole bunch, but still, is it too much to ask that your shit works correctly?
     Periodically, when I am trying to listen to a Brewers game, the Major League Baseball (MLB) Radio website tells me that my self-renewing subscription, that I've already paid for twice, is no longer valid because there was a problem processing me credit card.  Now that is just plain retarded.  Because I have already been charged for this service.  I have the statement to prove it.  In fact, I have already been charged TWICE for this service because I am retarded and one time that that screen came up I ordered it up again.  That's on me.  But seriously, why does the "there was an error processing your credit card" screen come up when NO ONE IS PROCESSING MY CARD!  All it should take for me to get in is my name, my password, and the cookie that you have undoubtedly places somewhere on my computer.
     Listen MLB.  You can offer me a website with real time stats.  You can offer me pictures of stadiums that aren't built yet.  You can offer me your website in both Simplified and Traditional Chinese.  So why can't you figure out that you already have my money?  If it's a ploy to get paid extra by getting me to pony up for a service that I have already paid for, then good job.  It's worked on me once.  If it's just because you don't care because I am a high-work, low-profit customer and one of six people in the world who want to listen to baseball on the internet, then that is fine.  But all I wanted to do tonight was veg out and listen to the Brewers game.  And it came on eventually, but for the first hour of the game I was cursing you and your error message.  And that is reason number one why I am pissed off at Major League Baseball.
2.)  The second reason that I am pissed off at Major League Baseball is because they won't let their players play in the Olympics.  Yeah.  I know that it would cut into your 162-game season, but by late August everyone is starting to get tired of watching Seattle Mariners vs. Baltimore Orioles highlights, or of reading the Anaheim Angels at Kansas City Royals box score in the paper.  Taking a couple of weeks off to let your guys play in the Olympics would be great.  Other countries do it.  Plus, Olympic baseball would be so much better, because all those MLB players would filter back to Japan and Cuba and Venezuela and the Dominican Republic and wherever else they are from.  And, oh my God, a lot of them would play for the US team.  And boy do we need them.  We send out minor leaguers to represent us against the rest of the world and they suck.  They can't even beat Canada for Christ's sake! (The USA was losing 4-0 to Canada in the top of the 5th inning at the time that the disgusted author turned the TV off.)  I can understand losing to Japan or Cuba but Canada?  Come on.  That's like a sweet bass boat losing a race to a pontoon because the bass boat is only using the trolling motor.  It's just retarded.  The United States boasts some of the best baseball talent in the world, why can't we display and utilize it?  The NBA lets their professionals play in the Olympics.  I know, I know, the Olympics are for amateurs, but the athletes aren't paid to be there.  They do it for pride and gold medals.
     I know that it ultimately comes down to money.  MLB won't release their players because all the big name stars would be gone for two weeks and the owners would not make as much cash.  I understand how it works.  Everyone would rather watch Alex Rodriguez than Wilson Betemit.  I get it.  But it would be such a service to our country, and it would be so much fun.  But it's never to be I am afraid.  Because MLB is like an old boys club that is just there to keep milking money out of old technology.  Let's not worry about our drug problem until it's out of hand because the guys who are juiced up are making up money.  Let's not get instant replay because it costs us too much money and doesn't benefit us.  And let's not give up a couple dozen of our superstars for two weeks every four years because it might cost us.  Go f---- yourself Major League Baseball.  Seriously.  Because we can't even beat Canada.  And that blood...er...maple syrup, is on your hands.

Friday, August 15, 2008

My Weekend With The Boys

     Well Company, I am beginning to recover from the shock and disappointment that came with the closing of the Mexican Mart.  So I think that it's time to talk about last weekend.  The Boys left on Wednesday.  By The Boys I mean Bucko, Andy, and Ben, my friends from Wisconsin.  They make the pilgrimage to see me every summer and I am not going to lie, it's something I look forward to immensely.  It is usually the high point of my summer.  We have a few things that are on our agenda every year when they come up.  They mostly include jumping off things.  I have posted about this phenomenon before.  But I think we can just go day by day this time, no?
     The Boys arrived late on Saturday night and because it was so late, and because they had been driving all evening, and because we had to be up early in the morning we crashed early.  No big deal, right?  I was tired because I had been running around most of the day doing some post-wedding things, and I went to David Nathaniel's, and I sort of half-ass cleaned up the house.  After they arrived we talked about some things for a little bit, watched a little bit of the Olympics, and went to bed.  A successful day one.
    Sunday morning we had what is becoming an annual kayaking trip with The Boys.  Foxy Roxy was there.  And Eric the Red.  And the Dingo.  And David Nathaniel and Chevy Orange.  And The Pharaoh.  It was his first time actually, and he seemed to love it.  First off, Andy and I go to run some errands early.  And apparently beach towels are impossible to find in a town with MILES OF BEACHES in August.  Apparently they stop stocking them sometime in the spring, which is retarded because the lake doesn't get warm enough to swim in until...oh, say August and September.  So that is when you need a beach towel.  I don't need a beach towel in May.  I need a wet suit then if I want to get in the water.  So anyway, after Andy and I buy the last two beach towels in town, we proceed to make out way to kayaking.  On the way we meet some cross country skiers that I know doing their summer workout.  Female cross country skiers.  And they apparently make such an impression on Andy that when we went to get him some money from the ATM he forgot his PIN number.  He actually never remembered it for the rest of the weekend.  It was pretty hilarious.  Almost as hilarious as him falling in while kayaking.  Or as Eric the Red falling in while trying to dump David Nathaniel.  Or Foxy Roxy falling in on her own.  Or David Nathaniel and I riding double in a sit-on top kayak and riding awfully low in the water.  In the end it was a really good time.  As usual most of us got soaked.  But we had a really good lunch after it and made and awfully fun day of it.  After kayaking, The Boys and I made our way to the beach that we know where there are often large waves to play in.  We figured that since it was an awfully windy day, and the wind was coming from the right direction it would be a good day to go there.  But the waves didn't seem to feel the same way.  They didn't show up in force like we wanted.  But we still messed around and had a good time.  Finish the day off with a 24' pizza with 3 lbs. of cheese and 1 lb. of toppings and you know you've had a good day two.
     Day three was good too.  After a lazy morning we went and jumped off of Black Rocks.  It was nice so there were a lot of people hanging around, doing crazy flips and dives.  I jumped off once and swam around and The Boys, especially Ben jumped time and time again.  But not as much as last year.  I am afraid that we are getting old.  That's all I can figure.  Because we pansed out time and time again.  But such is life I guess.  After jumping off the rocks we decided to have a cookout.  So we turned in all the cans and bottles, many of which were left from Bucko's visit in March, and used the money to get all the stuff.  And we did it up right.  But I chugged a lot of Boone's Farm.  I mean, too much Boone's Farm.  And I am thinking that I probably shouldn't get drunk too much anymore.  Because I do things I shouldn't, and I say things I shouldn't.  And I make a big ass of myself, which I am really good at doing when I am sober anyway.  But despite it all I had a good time, and as usual day three ended with us playing video games.  Awesome.
    Well, on Tuesday, day four, there was only one more thing to jump off of.  And that was the Dead River Falls.  So off we went to the Falls, after an amazing breakfast.  And when we got to the Falls we found out that the river was pretty high.  And pretty flowing pretty fast.  And there was a ton of water coming over the falls.  So...we didn't jump.  We swam a bit at the third falls like always and then moved up to the fourth set.  We really are getting old - it's sad.  But we swam in a big pool above the fourth set of falls and I explored an island.  It was quite fun.  I am going to have to go back soon.  Or maybe just next year when The Boys show again.
    On day five we just hung out and relaxed.  The Boys got their usual pasty lunch and made their way out of town.  Fatter and more sunburned than they were when they got here.  Bucko actually had the coolest stripes of sunburn on his abs from being in the kayak on day two.  But off they went to a baseball game.  And here I stay to lick my wounds and clean up my newly messy apartment.  But that's okay.  Because it's my favorite weekend of the year.  And I am no worse for the wear.  Hell, I am already thinking about what we can do next year.