Tuesday, November 30, 2010

It's Tuesday - So Even More Randomness

I've been kinda AWOL from blogging for a few days. Mostly because my lecturers seem to be on a drive to make my brain explode. Another contributor is the fact that HOLYFREAKINCRAP, it's been a boring week! I've literally felt the boredom drain the life out of me these last few days. The highpoint of the last few days was going into the city with Mrs. C on Saturday just to do some errands. Even then, while we were in the cosmetics store, I was trying to figure out how much force I would need to employ in order to impale myself through the eye with a make-up pencil. But I got a barbecue pork sub out of the deal and I still have both eyes so it's all good. But, it's Tuesday and you know what that means. It's time to get random.

Of course, shout out to Keely, the Un Mom for making Random Tuesday Thoughts possible.

- The office was smelling like ass today. Then the cleaning lady came and now it smells like a floral bouquet... and ass.

- With enough practice, you can fool people into thinking you actually listening when they're telling you stuff you didn't ask and don't really care about.

- Had no coffee today. Someone started a conversation by asking me, "You know what I'm thinking?" and I came this close to replying, "Not really. So, either I'm not really a psychic or you're lying about thinking."... This is further proof that it really is in everyone's best interest I maintain some level of caffeine intake.

- If I could harness the power of static electricity then, instead of always getting zapped by doorknobs I could use my powers to help those in need. Or zap 'em. That would be more fun. On a side note, people who enjoy it every time I jerk my hand away from the knob and yell "Son of a bitch!", are getting zapped first.

- I had a dream the other night that the world was being invaded by alien plant people. I believe the steamed vegetables I had for lunch the day before may have had a part to play in this.

Ahhh... I feel much better now.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Wordless Wednesday: Submitted For Approval - Airline

Monday, November 22, 2010

Further Advances In Stalking & Sharing The Pain

Two-For-One Post: A Bit Lengthy But There Are Lots Of Pictures.

Saturday night I was lying on the couch, watching TV (Yes, I know, all wild & crazy like that. That's just how I roll). Anyway, an ad came on for a website called mylife which is supposed allow you to search who's been searching you on the net. Mrs. C was in the kitchen and she overheard the ad. Since we both found it interesting I decided to check it out. I wasn't really expecting to find much. I've tried similar sites in the past and they generally don't allow you to even access their search without a valid US zip code. Plus, I've googled myself a few times and always come up with bupkis.

(Somewhat depressing -um- "fun" fact: I recently googled asvinnycsit and found my blogger, twitter and facebook links... I guess I should be happy that, according to the web, I exist in some form, at least.)

But I digress. I pulled up the website and put in my info which, not surprisingly, wasn't that much. If you've never tried one of these sites before, all they usually request is your first and last name and zip code. Mylife was the same: first name, last name and, of course, my zip code (Hoo-boy! Here we go again!). Surprisingly, I got in with the five zeros I'm supposed to enter. Not surprising was to find the results coming up empty. Once again, I resigned myself to a life of relative obscurity and was about to move on...

Until I noticed this:

Now since I never really got this far before, I don't know if the "Jealous Lover" feature is a standard for these types of sites. Of course, I couldn't resist trying it out:
Do they give you extra pages if you have more than three "Gals"?
Yes, you can jealously keep tabs on who's checking out your significant other... and your other significant other... and your other other significant other and so on.

Oh, c'mon. How could I not have fun with this?

The results were somewhat surprising, though:

When I was tired of it, and at her request, I searched out my wife's stalkers and found none. I have mixed emotions about this...


In other news, I actually made a blog award. This is thanks to the keen eye of Semi True Toristeller over at Can U Relate. I, being a little bit slow sometimes, probably never would have thought of this.

It all started in a recent post where I recanted my adventures while visiting the pharmacy (Oooh!). It was here I expressed my ideas about improper parenting - to put it mildly. I then made a suggestion about how this situation I observed should have been handled. Insert shameless self plug here: Click on the link and read the post if you don't know what I'm talking about. It was in my retelling of this incident that my award was born.

Behold! I bestow upon you:

The Tanned Hide!!!

Now from what I understand about the tradition, I'm supposed to pass this on to a few others and not just hang it on my own wall next to my wedding photos - Even thought I still might do just that anyway.

In creating this award I had to first decided it's purpose and then who should receive it. The first part was easy. It isn't to be presented to bloggers I wanted to give a spanking to... sorry. Also, it isn't to go to bloggers who I want (or think may want) to give me a spanking either... sorry again. This award goes to bloggers who hold a mirror up to society and its members who may have somewhat gone astray and often smash them over the head with it provide insight as to how those situations should be properly handled.

The next part was hard: who do I give this award to? I had a really hard time with this part. It's not that there aren't deserving bloggers out there that easily come to mind. That's just the problem: too damn many do. And, since I can't give everyone one - which we all can agree is really dumb and pointless - I had to narrow the list down. I decided to go with five. Because so many blogs I read fill the criteria so well I had to give this some serious thought. Then I got a headache so I just chose at random - because I'm lazy like that.

The first "Tanned Hide" recipients are, in no particular order are:
  • Dr. Cynicism @ Cynicism 101 - He's got a PhD in verbal ass whoopin'.
  • Miss Nikki @ my cyber house rules - Tellin' it like it is and not pulling any punches.
  • Simple Dude @ Simple Dude in a Complex World - He says he simple but his blunt delivery is genius.
  • dbs @ think.stew - Giving stupid the "stink eye" on a regular basis.
  • Semi True Torysteller @ Can U Relate? - Not just because she suggested I make this award but she holds the mirror up to herself first and that kind of brutal self honesty is something that reminds the rest of us to always be true to ourselves.

Please remember that if I didn't pick someone it isn't because I didn't feel you didn't deserve it. I'm trusting that if this gets circulated by it's recipients it'll eventually come to you and the work will be done for me (like I said: lazy).

There are supposed to be rules to these things but, you know what, I already have a headache, plus, the way I see it, society has too many rules as it is. I'll only say this much on the matter: if you choose to pass it on, give it to other bloggers who have been handing out some well deserved positive punishment to all the jokers out there.

As for me, I'm gonna go sleep this headache off.


Friday, November 19, 2010

Conversations With Mrs. C: Pillow Talk

Early morning hours: I'm awakened by my wife just coming to bed.

Me: Hey, you. What time is it?
Mrs. C: About half three.

I suppose I should shed some light here. My wife doesn't work a regular daytime job. She works from afternoon into late evenings doing end-of-day data processing. On top of that she developed insomnia about two years ago - partially thanks to the job hours - which comes and goes. It's become common for her to finally turn in at these kinds of hours.

As usual, we quickly discuss the plan for the day ahead and settle in. After a few seconds of silence:

Mrs. C: I think we should stop using toothpaste.
Me: Huh?
Mrs. C: Fluoride is unhealthy. You know it's actually a poison?
Me: Who have you been talking to?
Mrs. C: Nobody. We should probably try to get spring water too. For drinking. Don't they put it in the water too?
Me: I don't think they don't do that in Trinidad.
Mrs. C: Oh. Well chlorine isn't good either. Anyhow, you can make your own toothpaste from coconut oil and salt and...
Me: I'm guessing we can kiss minty fresh breaths goodbye, then?
Mrs. C: I'm serious! You remember when you talked about moving to the country and starting a farm? I think we should do that. It's much cleaner out there.
Me: (Pretending to be asleep)
Mrs. C: We could raise or own livestock. All the meat we get now is filled with chemicals.
Me: Do you know how to slaughter a cow?
Mrs. C: Well I was more thinking chickens. (She didn't wait for me to ask if she knew how to slaughter chickens) Besides, country people are friendly. One of our neighbors could do it for us.
Me: You've been up surfing the net all night, haven't you.
Mrs. C: I!... A little...
Me: Okay, I think you need supervision, or something, whenever you go on the net. You always end up freaking yourself out. The web's not controlled. Anybody can say anything there and you can't believe it all.
Mrs. C: I know that, but...
Me: Time to sleep now.
Mrs. C: 'K.

A few more seconds pass.

Me: You know I'm totally gonna blog this, right?
Mrs. C: (Pretending to be asleep)

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Some People Need Feel In Order To Learn.

Have you ever had the urge to just put someone over your knee and give them a good spanking? I don't mean in some kind of freaky, sexual fetish kinda way (I know you were thinking it. Don't lie). What I mean is, sometimes I see people out there who seem to desperately need a little positive punishment just to let them know that their behavior is unacceptable. You know who I mean. This applies to most celebrities, Wall Street execs and basically all politicians everywhere.

Public figures and corporate moguls are not the only ones this would apply to, of course. There are a lot of average Joes and Janes out there that we interact with on a day-to-day basis that need a good old hide-tannin'. Like people who text while driving, or chew with their mouths open, or insist on trying to hold a conversation with you while you're on the phone. Basically people who should have had a bit more discipline instilled into them as children.

Case in point: The other day I was in the pharmacy. I was at the counter waiting to get a prescription filled, just happily minding my own when, just a few feet away, I hear a young boy begin a rant about some health drink supplement his mother was buying him.
"Please, Jay, relax." his mother urged, "It's good for you."
Jay, who I'm certain couldn't be more than about ten or eleven, replied, "You know what's good for me? Soda! That's what's good for me." and he stormed off to the other end of the drugstore, leaving his mother there at the counter.

You sure it's wrong to just leave 'em there?
If young Jay's little outburst, or the way he ignored his mother as she sheepishly and unconvincingly called out to him, wasn't enough to rub me the wrong way, what came next would surely seal the deal. Defiantly, he stomped across the room but soon noticed that the energy he was investing into his tantrum was being wasted as his mother was engaged in conversation with the pharmacist. It was then he decided to amuse himself in other ways. As I watched, he picked up some candy from a small rack and shoved it into his pocket. He turned to walk away but then he noticed the security guard's stern eye on him and he quickly replaced it. He then turned his attention to the cashier behind one of the counters. One by one he picked up every single item on the counter and ask every question possible about them. The poor girl, trying to be nice (big mistake, because he clearly didn't deserve it) patiently indulged him. Meanwhile, his mother, who's attention was back on him returned to her timid chant of, "Jay... Jay... Jay..." over and over and over again, which, of course, he continued to ignore.

I know many are against the idea of striking children. But then you run into the gems like my friend, Jay, here and you can't help but question those beliefs. But, for those who are against corporal punishment being used on children you'd probably be right. The truth is, while the boy's behavior was bad enough,  his mother obviously needed to be way more stern with him than she was and her obvious failure to assert some more authority only served to enable his behavior. As we say here, "some children are brought up and some are dragged up" and I shudder to think what kind of adult she was preparing to send into the world. That's why I think you'll all agree with me to nominate Jay's mom to receive the honor of:

"The Tanned Hide"
Point of Note: If you're going to google the word "spanking", make sure your
safesearch is at least on moderate. There are sick, sick people out there.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Barbershop Babblings

There were four of us in the barbershop this morning: the barber, two other patrons - who were friends - and myself. I was in the chair and the other two were waiting their turn. I, having had only about four hours sleep was intently focused on not falling asleep in the chair (for fear of secret paranoia# 8: If I fall asleep in the chair the barber will get mad and give me a jacked-up haircut).

Anyhoo, crazy paranoia aside, I was, however able to overhear the following conversation which took place right after one of the other guys went out to take a smoke:

Patron 1 to Barber: You know, me and Patron 2 were liming (hanging) at a bar last night and he asked me if I thought a small, medium or large penis would feel better.
Barber: Wha...?
Me: Wha...?
Patron 1: That's what he asked me, if I thought a small, medium or large penis would feel better.
Barber: Dawg,... What'd you say?
Patron 1: I - I couldn't answer.
Barber: You crazy, yes. So you left right?
Patron 1: I couldn't. It was 2 in the morning and he was my ride home.
Me: (Stifled laughing)
Barber: Well, with that, I was walking for sure.

The conversation hadn't gotten much further when Patron 2 came back inside after finishing has smoke. Skillfully, the barber changed to a new topic to avoid the awkward silence.

I'll say this much, at least I wasn't sleepy any more.

School Project

I just spent the better part of my Friday night into Saturday morning finishing an assignment for one of my classes. We are to required to complete four journals on based on four different topics. I chose gender for my first. I thought I'd share what I just emailed to my lecturer.


There was once a time when men knew who they were. They were called the protectors and providers and breadwinners of the household. These were just some of the labels that once defined males in society. A man was characterized by his strength – physically and emotionally. Boys were taught not to cry, to be level-headed and not to let emotion dictate his actions. When someone said the phrase, “A man's man” or “A real man” a mental image could easily be conjured up in one's mind and you knew what was meant. That was how it was... at one time.

It wasn't a perfect system. Not by a long shot. Gender roles were steeped in the man's favor and women were forced into a role of subservience, relegated to cooking, cleaning and child rearing. Women held no position of power or influence and though there were some women who dared to stand up and be recognized as more than just baby factories and etch their name into the history books, they were generally reviled and ridiculed by both men and women alike. But they also became examples and were secretly idolized by other women who longed for more but felt trapped by the roles society had assigned them based solely on gender.

But, like they often do, things changed and the waves of time washed over the lines in the sand which once clearly marked the separation of gender roles. Women slowly began to gain a greater role in society and the lines between these roles began to blur.

I, for one, have no problem with this redefining of the traditional roles. I've never believed that any one should a position of dominance over the other and that both male and female have something equally valuable to bring to the table. That's why one's strengths compliments the other's weaknesses. To me this is why it makes sense both genders have an equal say. There are those, however, who would still try to hold on to the so-called glory-days of male dominance. As such, many men harbor resentment towards women for what they see as usurping their authority and taking what they see as being rightfully theirs. Likewise, there are women who seem to have gotten caught up in the hype and see this current wave of change as a chance to snuff out the oppressors' rule once and for all and show them how it's done. In my experience, however, history has shown that the tighter you try to grab on to something that isn't truly yours the faster it slips through your fingers.

Man is no longer seen as the sole providers and breadwinners in today's household. Let me be clear, again, I have no problem with this. The problem as I see it is that he is constantly being told the things which once made him him are now laughable and the male as a gender is left confused, floundering, searching for a new identity to replace the one he lost. Nowadays, even to say the phrases “A man's man” and “A real man” sound like vague and abstract clichés that have no place in today's society. How we look, shave and dress is always under scrutiny and the male image is constantly being redefined. Today, movies, commercials, television, music and all other forms of media try to tell both men and women what should define them – and this it does for often self-serving motives such as to make a sale. Get the right male celebrity to put on a strapless, sequined evening gown and throw a few rappers and/or athletes in and all of a sudden you have the next big fad. This only shows how lost the male as a gender has become.

It's clear, to me at least, that before anybody tries to jump into the driver's seat that people stop bickering about whether the job can be better handled by either a man or woman and everyone truly assess the situation and stop being so smug and self confident and power hungry. Idealistic? I guess. Utopian? Sure. But look what the alternative has brought us.

Vinny C.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Living With A Ninja

I'm one of those lucky people who looks younger than he really is. While it's true I don't often get enough sleep and don't always maintain a healthy diet, I have to attribute my youthful appearance to living an otherwise boring healthy-ish lifestyle. I keep alcohol consumption to a minimum, I've never smoked and, for someone who's **cough** only a little **cough** overweight, I keep pretty active. None of this is to in any way pat myself on the back but to come to the point that, taking all of this into consideration, even I can't totally resist the ravages of time. I realize that the gap between the age people think I look like and my real age in slowly narrowing. This was helped considerably by the fact that I recently left a very demanding, very stressful job in banking which caused me several extra pounds and some dark circles under the eyes - which have mostly faded, thankfully. I've managed to hold the wrinkles at bay but I'll often get a reminder from Mrs. C in the form of a, "Don't make that face. I causes a "line" on your nose bridge." whenever I make my signature "scowl of disapproval". And, of course, the appearance - albeit brief appearance - of the odd gray hair from time to time is unavoidable.

Now, if it were up to me they'd stay right where they were. "Live and let live." I always say. As long as no harm's done. My lovely wife, however, has made it her personal campaign to fight the signs of aging tooth-and-nail and to the bitter end and, thus, has put Father Time on the top of her personal shit-list. In her ongoing battle, she has acquired certain practices and skills to aid in her "War On Time". She has developed a vigilant, undying resolve that keeps her ever on the lookout for any incursion old Father Time may attempt to make into our lives. She has even developed a ninja-like ability that grants uncharacteristic stealth and resourcefulness.

Bring it, old man!!!

To illustrate what I mean by ninja-like skill I'll give an example: There was this one time I was, only by pure luck, able to wake up to find her slathering some vitamin e extract "ninja brew" around my eyes to "...soften the skin and prevent wrinkles..." SHE'S BEEN DOING THIS TO ME WHILE I SLEEP! For how long? I don't even know. I'm scared.

As previously mentioned the appearance of gray on my scalp is very brief. Once these little buggers make an appearance, they stand out against the sea of jet black follicles they try to cohabitate with and, once they're spotted, they're gone. This is where her prowess excels.

The first instance was innocent enough. We were getting ready to go out and she said to me, "Is that a gray hair?"
Since I was looking in the mirror at the time I turned my head to see the side she was looking at, "Well, so it is." I replied causally,  "Hmph.", and continued about the business of getting my tie to the right length.
At this point she got the tweezers and quickly plucked the lone rebel from the side of my head, "Not having that." - This would later become her battle cry, of sorts.
I'm not sure if was my protest at the sharp, sudden and unexpected pain I received or if it was my statement that this was a natural process of time and you couldn't fight it, but whatever the case, she decided to get clever after that.

Her level of skill became even more evident in a following instance: I was hunched over my computer, casually minding my own business, she was on the couch watching TV... Or so I thought. Without warning I, once again, felt that sharp, unexpected tug on my scalp followed by the newly adopted "NOTHAVINDAT!" battle cry.

I consider my peripheral vision to be excellent - superhuman, even - but she was able get up, go into the bedroom for the tweezers, return (which involved passing right behind me to get there and back, no less), stand behind me and grasp offending hair with tweezers (not to mention that she was initially able to detect a single strand of gray hair from about ten feet away). Impressive, you say? That's nothing compared to a time after that while we were watching TV together. She was sitting, I was lying down with my head on her lap - cozy, no.

Then, suddenly...

"Ow!... What the hell!?! Are you carrying the tweezers around with you now?"

I believe her.

I should have suspected something earlier, though. The most obvious sign that I should have noticed was where she lived when we were dating. The house was at the top of a hill with these steep concrete steps leading up to this front door. Now that I think about it, that really does resemble an ancient Japanese temple.

It's eerie how similar this looks to the steps leading to my wife's home back then.
Another sign is that no matter where I hide ANYTHING, she is able to somehow sense that something is hidden and know where I hid it.
And there was the time...

Ow!... What the...!?! Oh, c'mon!!!

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Random Tuesday Thoughts: Vinny Goes Random

On my way home from work, I don't know why, but I was struck with few random thoughts that for some even stranger reason I thought I'd share.
(Of course, the credit must go to Keely: The UnMom who totally owns - in every sense of the word - Random Tuesday Thoughts):

- When you think about, the only difference between doves and pigeons is that doves got better press.

-Why isn't the neighbor's dog running up and barking like wants to rip out my throat anymore? Was it something I said?

- There's an LDS church close to where I work. The other day I noticed a basketball post in the courtyard and I thought to myself, Mormons play basketball? Then I felt bad for thinking it.

- I want to grow a mustache for Movember next year... But, first, I have to grow some balls and stand up to my wife when she says no again.

- I'm pretty sure that fourth cup of coffee was overdoing it.

- I realized recently that I work five minutes away from where I go to school which, in turn, is five minutes from where my wife goes to work. I figure if I suddenly make a break for the beach that that giant white bubble thing from "The Prisoner" will come after me.

Well, I've thoroughly exorcised the randomness from my head and it's time to actually start paying attention to my lecturer before Rover (yes, the big white bubble actually has a name) comes along.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Fighting Temptation

This morning:

Me: Hey, lemme handle the groceries myself. I got a million things to do today and I'll get this done faster on my own.
Mrs C: You sure?
Me: Yeah, no problem.
Mrs. C: Alright, let's do up a list.

We sit down and quickly prepare a list of the items needed.

Mrs. C: Now, we're on a budget so be sure to stick to the list.
Me: Yeah, yeah, yeah...
Mrs. C: I mean it. Stick.to.the.list.
Me: Relax. I'm on it.
Mrs. C: 'K, thanks.

So I head out. I breeze through the produce market - even saved some money with some smart shopping. Then it's off to the supermarket to finish up. I cruise through the lanes, grabbing the necessary items and feeling proud for maintaining such strict discipline in adhering to the oh so sacred list.
Then, while in the freezer section the following inner dialogue begins:

Inner Vinny: Dude. Dude! Hot Pockets! When was the last time we had those.
Me: It's been a while, hasn't it? Too bad we're on a budget.
Inner Vinny: C'mon! It's just this one thing. Oooh, look! They have Ham and Cheese. We love Ham and Cheese! Meatball and Mozzarella's good too. Ooooooh, we've never had the Chicken Melt and Bacon. We could totally...
Me: STOP IT!!! You heard her, we're on a budget. We're sticking to this list!
Inner Vinny: But... Hot Pockets...
Me: No!

I continue to get the stuff on the list, "...detergent, hand soap..."
"Hot Pockets!"
"No! Quiet!"
Just then the phone rings with the ringtone I set for my wife.

Me: Yo
Mrs. C: Hey.
Me: 'Sup?
Mrs. C: How're things going?
Me: Good. Almost done. Stickin' to the budget.
Mrs. C: 'K. That's good. Anyhow, listen, I need you to pick up a few more things. I think I'll have salad for lunch a few times this week.
Me: Salad?
Mrs. C: Don't worry. It's just for me. I know you don't like salads. Pick up some black olives, cucumbers and lettuce too.
Me: Black olives? Aren't those a bit more expensive? What about the budget? Remember?
Mrs. C: (Cutesy voice) I knoooow. But I like black olives better.
Me: Well...
Mrs. C: 'K, thanks. Bye. Luv ya.
Me: Uhhhh, yeah... You too.

Call ends.

Me: ...
Inner Vinny: I want the Chicken Melt and Bacon.
Me: 'K.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

A Crime Of Fashion.

In my last post I made mention of men wearing skinny capri jeans. This proved to be a claim so outlandish that the mere idea of such a thing existing sparked confusion and doubt and an overwhelming demand (actually it was just one person, but she was demanding nonetheless) for proof of my claim. In an effort to provide such proof and kill some time restore my honor, I set out on my mission. Risking life and limb, I scoured the city streets.

Surprisingly, at first, I wasn't having much luck. After two days of searching I was almost fooled into believing that the fad was either dead or dying. Unfortunately, I was soon informed that it was still alive and well amongst the teenager population and could be frequently sighted around local malls and movie theaters on the weekends.

My search continued. I researched earlier sightings:
Initial sightings, like this taken by my younger sister at a local bank a few months back, were of poor quality similar to recorded images of UFO's, Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster leading many to believe the whole idea of men in skinny capris was some elaborate hoax.

Refusing to give up (and not really feeling a trip to the mall this weekend) I continued my search. Until...


Today, my search came to an end. This sighting provides undeniable proof of the existence of the dreaded mens' skinny capri jeans...

See for yourselves:

GAAAAH!!! This one's got cuffs!
And, there you have it... Heaven help us all!!!