A Story for the Grandkids

I was not sure if the wang-milk story was appropriate for my blog, but Kenton, the King of Inappropriate, brought it up (see yesterday’s comments). Kevin and I discussed this over dinner on Sunday. What a memory.

One time, way back in college, I lived with a uniquely verbose guy by the name of Andy Morton. Mr. Morton found himself in a very interesting predicament one evening at the house. That night Andy had dined at the Wing Dome on a plate of 5-alarm wings. For thos of you not familiar with the Dome, their scale is from 1 to 7. 1 is not spicy at all, while 7 is so hot that they sell one for $2. So 5 is considerably hot.

After enjoying his wings, and this part of the story I am not too sure about, Andy’s hands made contact with his wang. I can only assume that it was during a trip to the bathroom, but you never know with Andy. I personally would have washed my hands before any wang-touching but that’s just me. This contact resulted in a situation that caused Mr. Morton quite a bit of discomfort. This is where it gets good.

Recalling some wives tale, you know, the one about hot sauce on the penis, Andy runs to the kitchen and fills a bowl with 2% milk. He runs back up stairs with the bowl and proceeds to dip his flaming member into the soothing chilled milk. Andy says that it worked and highly recommends the procedure to anyone with a 5-alarm unit. But wait, that is not even the best part.

Andy, perhaps numbed with relief, “forgets” the bowl in the bathroom and goes about his business. For several days, the bowl sat on the counter in the bathroom, a holy-grail to the spicy shlong, if you will. No one else is going to touch the thing. That’s just disgusting. Looking back I wonder if it was as disgusting as the rancid odor that soon began to spew forth from that bathroom.

And the questions:

A: Who is Sir Thomas Gresham?

B: What is the Nikkei? (Kenton you spelled wrong, but if you were on the show you would have gotten it right as you pronounced it correctly.)

Matrimony Month Begins

Oh man, what a long weekend that was. We had a wedding to attend on Saturday for a good high school friend. Unfortunately for us, Dana did some poor planning, that is, if one considers only me and my situation. First, she decided that she should be married on Priest Lake in Idaho. That is about a six-hour drive from Seattle. Terribly inconvenient. To make matters worse, Dana selfishly planned a sunset wedding, effectively pushing the acceptable guest departure time past ten o’clock at night. Finally, and I am not sure how Dana could have known this but it is still her fault nonetheless, Stacey had to be back in Seattle the next morning for a prior engagement. Add them all up, you get a red-eye drive that places the wife and I back at our apartment at 5am Sunday morning. Ugh.

I think I have recuperated. Sunday truly was the day of rest for me. I lied around catching back up on all the sleep I lost during the drive. I played a little World of Warcraft Beta, only about an hour or so. (Disclaimer: Do not play this game. Its highly addictive nature and immersive storyline will cause you to lose large portions of your day.) Then Kevin and I ate some dinner at the Wing Dome. Pretty boring, but at least I am functional today.

Job update: No new news. The job I interviewed for three weeks ago is still open, and I am still waiting to hear more info. Unbelievable!

Jeopardy update: I have taken to spending a few minutes everyday drilling some practice answers. Here are a couple examples: I missed the first but got the second.

A: This advisor to Queen Elizabeth I is credited with the maxim that "bad money drives out good.”

A: This index consists of the average closing prices of 225 stocks on the Tokyo Stock Exchange.

Questions will follow tomorrow…

What is an indomitable Morman robot?

It has been my life-long dream to be a contestant on a game show. I guess it all began with the first time I saw Press Your Luck. What a wonderfully ingenious concept for a game show. Who would not want to get the chance to go toe-to-toe with those zany whammies and their schemes to steal your money? NO WHAMMIES, STOP!!!

Then most of my formative years were spent trying to find original way to watch the fantastic games and prizes on the inconveniently time-slotted Price is Right. The allure of Bob Barker and his beauties was so strong that I would fake illness or purposely “miss” the school bus just so that I might be able to live vicariously through those who had got the chance to come on down. Sadly, ever since the passing of Rod Roddy, things just haven’t been the same.

Today my favorite game show is Jeopardy. And since this seemingly unstoppable run of Super Genius Ken Jennings, so many others would agree. (Personally, I think Ken is a robot constructed by the LDS as a moneymaking device. Its not that he is too smart, he just handles that buzzer with such precision that no one else even gets a chance. Only robots have that kind of accuracy, thus my theory.)

Through the years the game has changed, but the dream remains. Well, it seems that I might get my chance. Yesterday I received an email inviting me to come in for an interview with the folks at Jeopardy Contestant Search. In no way is this a guarantee to be a contestant, but it does bring me one step closer. Needless to say, I am pretty excited. The one catch is that the interview is in San Francisco on September 11th. I hope to overcome this small obstacle because no way is a twelve-hour drive going to keep me from my dream!

Now if you will excuse me, I must get to studying for Jeopardy.

I made at least $15 for typing this

I think I am completely recovered from the celebration on Saturday night. I think Kevin had a pretty good “Last Night Out.” After the shot of 151, he slipped into the perfect stage of drunkenness. You know, the small window of intoxication where you cannot be held responsible for you outrageous behavior but have not yet lost control of your bodily functions.

Our party of seven began at Tulalip, where for the first time in my gambling career, I walked out with more money than I came in with. In fact, everyone who gambled made some money. Josh and I made big money on the craps table. The roller got on this streak and hit nothing but sixes and eights. We kept pressing our place bets on both and at one point I was making $21 every time a six or eight was rolled. I love craps!

Now I’m back at work and I have spent the majority of my day looking for my next job. Not many employers will allow you to do that on company time, especially mine. So that’s why I have to pretend like I am really working. I have come up with several tricks to avoid detection. For instance, I am typing this into a form that is intended to be used exclusively for business purposes. That way if a superior walks by and sees me, he will say to himself, “I can see that person typing a lot of words into that business form. He is working really hard.”

Maybe I’ll even get a promotion.

$3.00 beers at Canyons

Sorry, I haven’t been keeping up with the posts. I wasn’t feeling very well yesterday and I didn’t think you’d want to hear about my stomach bug.

Sooo, whats up with me? Well, I still haven’t heard back about the job interviewed for last Monday. I am none too pleased about this, but it really is out of my hands. I hope that I find something before my current contract expires on the 27th of August. I wonder how much unemployment pays? Ach, if nothing else I can always just fall back on dealing. I’ve been out of the game so long; I wonder how much a kilo of Guadalajara Gold costs these days?

Tomorrow is my good friend, Kevin’s bachelor party. Ahhh, the age-old celebration of the blessed union between man and woman, marked by the getting of the groom totally wasted and the maneuvering said drunken groom into incriminating situations that he would never ever want his fiancé to see pictures of. That reminds me, I’ve got to charge the batteries for my digital camera. Actually, I am not expecting this party to get too out of control. We have a fun time planned and the strippers, I am pretty sure, are all women this time.

Back to work. Lunch hour is over and I have to get some work done before the office heads out to Happy Hour. No…really. Kenton, I’m serious.

The Waiting Game

What does early next week mean to you? In my vernacular, this phrase implies a time frame that falls somewhere between Monday morning and quitting time on Tuesday. Sunday is, of course, the day of rest so it doesn’t count and Wednesday is clearly right smack dab in the middle of the week. So therefore, when someone said to me last week that they would get back to me early next week about their decision to hire me, I assumed, as any level-headed chap would, that I probably would know by now. Sadly, this is not the case. So here I am on this Tuesday afternoon, waiting by both the phone and the Outlook inbox, wondering why it is that I am being so cruelly treated. I shall just have to write to get my mind off of it.

An update from yesterday’s post: Kenton emailed me in RE: to my apology. I replied back after some careful planning with what I would have to describe as a lackluster performance in comparison to my original email. (Man, should have taken a screenshot of that thing.) I still hope he will forgive me for my laziness. Hell hath no fury like a Kenton scorned.

I knew that I am new to this weblogging thing, but a search of the database of this site has revealed to me that pretty much all of my friends and relatives already have one of these. Was there a conspiracy to not tell me, to let me wallow in the purgatory that is….er….not weblogging? Did I miss the sign-ups? I mean, I would have jumped on the bandwagon a whole lot sooner had someone just given me the heads up.

Well, my lunch hour has lapsed and now I must get back to work. Or, depending how you look at it, pretending to work as I diligently wait for the little envelope icon to pop up in my taskbar.

Like a Virgin

Here is my initial entry. My first foray into the world of web-logging. Be gentle.

I received an email today from good friend from college, Kenton. Granted it was a mass email, but at least he took the time to type my address in the To: field. Regardless, the email made me realize that I have been somewhat lax in our corespondence since his exodus to New Mexico. Thats the state next to Arizona, no not that one, thats Utah, no the one to the east. Yeah that one. (Don't worry, I forget about that one all the time, too.) In an effort to atone for my lackadaisical ways, I set to writing the guy an email. Not just any email, mind you. I mean this was a great email. I used spell-check and everything. Oh and I asked a co-worker what a better word for 'satisfied' was. Seven or eight minutes later, I cap the thing off with a clever salutation and click send in my browser-based email program.

Server not repsonding. Please see administrator if.....

Frantically, I click the back button in hopes that somehow, someway. But, no. It has all been in vain. I am too distraught to continue. So, here is my apology Kenton. I promise you a new and improved email soon. Just not today because I am spent.

Wait. Its over? I guess I kinda expected it to last a little longer.