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Measure of a Society
What does it say about a society when candy bars come with direction on how to open them up. Do we have people totally confused by the paper that they believe they need to open their candy with a blow torch or maybe a crowbar? Have candy bar makers been sued in the past because someone starved to death because they were unable to tear the packaging since it wasn't properly labeled with direction on how to rip paper?

I can see this turned into a class action lawsuit. They probably had to send out letters to people asking them if they ever had trouble opening a candy bar. Problem is the people never responded because they couldn't open the envelope that contained the letter. In fact 90% of those who survived their ordeal with the candy bar died of paper cuts from the letter about the class action lawsuit.

This of course would lead to another lawsuit against the envelope maker and glue maker who made the adhesive that sealed the letter. And for good measure they threw in the post office for allowing the letters to be mailed through the post office. Does all this labeling and lawsuits mean our society is getting stupider and softer??

Hey where you going? Get back here... bye for now.

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Hands On
Since I work in computers, I stumbled across an interesting and at the same time disturbing unix command. I found this command called 'touch' which allows a person to modify the date/time of a file so that is can retain some arbitrary date and not change the modified time. When you want to see how to use a command it usually has a manual page. This manual page is accessed by typing man then the command. In the case of touch you get...

     man touch

Now I'm not one to speculate on things. So I'll just throw out a couple of things and let the rest of the world decide how they want to interpret this command. Could this command imply that with the future growth in technology that this will allow for self serving endeavors on the part of the user. Maybe it's meant as a shopping command and a man to touch will be provided on your door step. The possibilities are endless. Well maybe not endless, but I really don't need some disturbing image of some pimply face guy man touching. Well time to go poke the minds eye out.

Hey where you going? Get back here... bye for now.

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Black Ice
I've always hated the term black ice. Ice isn't black, it's clear. The color is determined by the surface the ice is on. You don't hear people calling it green ice when it's on the grass. They only call it that when it's on a roadway or sidewalk. And why black, concrete isn't black. It's more a gray color. So why not gray ice? Or here's a thought, just freaking call it ice.

There was a reason for that lovely rant above. It's because I stepped on a patch of ice this morning getting out of my car and went sliding across the parking lot. I'm sure there are easier ways of departing from a vehicle, but I thought I would make a complete ass of myself this morning and slide out of my car. It's more fun that way. Everyone can get out and stand up and walk away from their car. It's more fun to slink out of the car like a snake would. Of course the real fun is when people are around and see you fall. That just compounds your embarrassment. Sure it's funny to laugh when someone falls, even if it's you. But it just weird because when you fall you suddenly imagine people looking at you like your a complete moron who hasn't learned to walk yet. Which in my case could be argued that I haven't really properly learned to walk. But that's not my point. Really, I don't have a point.

So I kind of scrapped my hand a little bit. Should I be putting ice on it after cleaning it out? Or would that just be too ironic to put ice on a wound created by sliding on ice in the parking lot? Some food for thought there.

Hey where you going? Get back here... bye for now.

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Spamtastic Fun
It's quite amusing at times to see the humor in spam mails. You can tell most are not written by people fluent in English. Or if they are they must have been the kids who at the paste in class while the teacher taught or they were window lickers. I get a lot of spam mail at my job because we host lots of web sites. So far my favorite to date has been

   'Increase your ejaculation by 581%'

Now that's a pretty specific number. Of course me being the smart ass I am, I have to ask the question are they talking volume or distance? That's an important fact to know before buy a product.

I also got a kick out of reading the subject of this spam mail which read

   'Build more SPERM in your PENIS, 500% more after taking this pill or garden'

Now this begs the question of where else would you need to build your sperm? In a car? In your neighbors house? In a can? In a sock? In a piggy bank? And what the hell does it mean by ' after taking the pill or garden'? garden???? I've never heard of someone having to take a garden. That's an awful lot of stuff to take. Course that depends on the size of the garden. Is it a backyard garden or a chia garden? This is stuff that's important to know before building sperm. If you don't have a proper foundation you can't build your sperm correctly. Then the whole things just collapses.

But see this only gets better the more you read the contents of the spam as well. The product is called WonderCum. I'm sure they slaved over that name for weeks in their marketing meetings. But they also like to taut the benefits of WonderCum. Like the following:

• 500% more sperm - Again I ask distance or volume?
• Improved flavor - Who exactly are they having taste test this? Is it like some blind taste test at the supermarket?
• Rock hardErections
• More Staying Power - what? This doesn't make you want to get up and leave after having sex? fuck that!
• MultipleOrgasms

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Disturbing Visual
I was flipping around the channels last night. I came to one of the HD channels I have. The channel was broadcasting a show on old Olympic highlights. This one in particular was from the 1976 Montreal games. I wasn't really interested in watching the show but I stopped for a few minutes to laugh at the stuff the athletes were wearing back then. First they showed Women's Handball, then Men's Volleyball. They all seemed to end in group hugs. Then to my horror they cut to a scene where a male athlete is getting a massage. Not sure why this was important to show as part of the olympic experience, but never the less not too bad, just not something I want to see. Well it gets worse. They pull back from the close up of his shoulders being rubbed down to show he is completely naked on the table. No towel, nothing. Luckily I don't see his giblets because he is at least face down. But it gets better or I should say it gets worse. The creepy, overweight, old dude rubbing him down with some unidentified creamy white substance doesn't have his shirt on. I'm like what the hell is up with that. Why is that guy not wearing clothes either? I know it's written somewhere but man law says you are to never touch a naked man's ass with your hand. Well the creepy old dude was going to town rubbing the cream into the other man's buttocks. If I had had alcohol in my house I would have drank it all last night just to get that image out of my head. All I can say is Montreal in 1976 must have been a strange place to be.

Hey where you going? Get back here... bye for now.

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Stale Water and Friends
There's nothing more surprising then taking a nice big swig of water that's been sitting around on my desk since yesterday afternoon. There's just something so tasty and tangy about it. Course the sad thing is when I don't get a refill of fresh water right away, but continue to reach for the "stale" water. You would think I would have learned not to drink this water the first time. But alas, I'm a slow learner.

I have to make a quick comment about my last post. In particular the very first sentence, "So, I made this new friend". It makes it sound like I got some clay and construction paper out and made an art project. Makes it sound like I can't find friends and I have to make them. I guess it could be worse, I'm only making them, I'm not having to pay for them to be my friend.

This distracted me so much I nearly drank the stale water again. I really need to get a refill of fresh water before I take another drink. :-)

Hey where you going? Get back here... bye for now.

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Bee Accessories
So I made this new friend recently who shared with me the most brilliant gift idea I've ever heard. You know the old adage what do you get a bee keeper that has everything, right? Well you get them a bee leash. It's so simple but brilliant. She explained it by saying you want to keep the bees not let them get away. So the bee leash allows you to keep your favorite bee within a certain distance of you.

So this got me thinking of other accessories that a beekeeper may need. How about a electrified bee fence. You don't want your bees wandering off and getting into the wrong sort of crowd. The last thing you want is your bees to join a gang of roving killer bees. No one likes those killer bees. The electrified fence would be similar to the dog fences but the transmitter would be on a much smaller scale. Course there will be some bugs to work out of the system initially like the size of the shock given. Don't want too large a shock or you'll fry the bees instantly. Also the sheer number of collars needed could be time consuming. But you have to ask yourself what is more important, keep your bees or letting them join a gang of killer bees.

I also think there's a whole market of bee outfits. It seems everyone likes dressing their pets up. Why not dress your bees up. That yellow and black stripping can get so boring after a while. Maybe small bunny ears or dog ear outfits. The possibilities are endless for anyone who can sew microscopic clothes. And I think there is a whole market out there for this too.

Also another big concern would be your bees being killed by over zealous homeowners who don't like bees. So to prevent this, I think bee gas masks would keep your bees safe. They could take a direct shot from pesticides and still continue on with their pollen collecting duties. In cases where super industrial pesticides are being used, then a full haz-mat suit may be needed for your bee.

These are just a couple of bee accessories I see. I think there is a giant market for bees that no one has tapped into. I believe a fortune can be made for those who love their bees and want to keep them safe.

Hey where you going? Get back here... bye for now.

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More Thoughts Today
Had another awesome game on Friday night. Well if you don't count the fact I got cleated again. The top of my foot is nicely bruised. The highlight of the game was this girl wanting me because of my soccer prowess. She wanted me so much she literally grabbed me on the field. I know it's hard to believe, but sometimes I just exude strength that every woman wants me. Course it helped that I had another awesome goal this session. All the ladies love goal scorers. With all the ladies wanting me, at least I'll have someone to take me to the hospital when my body falls apart from all the injuries.

On a completely unrelated topic. Family is a funny thing sometimes. Recently I found out my Aunt and Uncle were talking nice about me to this young woman, even offering that I would take her out to dinner. Seems fine and harmless until you start to hear that the young lady is going through a divorce and likes to collect bladed weapons. Yes, lets have me hang out with a woman who has sharp objects and who may want to emasculate any man she sees. I think I'll take a rain check.

Hey where you going? Get back here... bye for now.

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Star Treatment
I've been slow to get a new post up because I've been busy of late. I've been in consultation with my agent and team of lawyers over a new proposition. A friend recently asked me to be in his wedding. I'm to be the understudy for the flower girl. If she goes down say for illness or a crow bar to the leg, I have to be ready to step in and go. It's not an easy job and I'll be taking my responsibilities seriously.

Actually I've been asked to be a groomsman. So really I had my team of lawyers writing up a binding contract for my role. I have to make sure all my provisions are taken care of. I need to be paired up with a single cute bridesmaid who adores red heads. In case of injury playing soccer, the church needs to be scooter accessible. At which point the bridesmaid must be cool with riding on my lap (wink wink nudge nudge). There can be no yellow M&Ms in the M&M bowl. I have to have the crust cut off all my sandwiches. Oh wait those last two provisions were for when I'm famous.

Hey where you going? Get back here... bye for now.

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Sketch Artist
I had this conversation with my brother the other day. He got to meet the sister of a mutual friend. I asked him what the sister looked like. This is actually what he said to me. "She had blonde hair and big cans." I'm sorry did you just say she had big cans? Who uses that term anymore? Either she had large cans of paint sitting on the desk or my brother is channeling someone from the 1930s. So as the conversation goes along I ask well was she a skinny or bigger girl. The brilliant answer I got was he couldn't tell because she was behind a desk. Oh no Superman was stopped by wood. And here I thought only lead kept him from seeing.

As the absurdity of this conversation kept going on, I suddenly think of my brother giving this description to a sketch artist. I can see the whole scene playing out. The police are looking for this woman. The only person to see her was my brother. "Sir, can you describe her for us? Sure no problem. She had blonde hair, big cans and was sitting behind a desk. Anything else, sir? What else is there to say I think that's a pretty unique description." So the sketch artist gets to work and a few hours later comes back with a sketch of a giant set of boobs with blonde hair on top sitting behind a desk. The bulletin goes out over the news. Have you seen this woman. Here's a sketch artist description of the woman.

Hey where you going? Get back here... bye for now.

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