It's Quiet... Too... Quiet.

I know! I. know! This blog has remained post free for eleven days now. In my defense, there hasn't really been much going on that I would really consider "post-worthy". It's just been an endless cycle of work, to class, to home, to work...

You get the idea.

Since I've renewed my vow to not to fill my blog with endless complaints about work, that leaves me with little else to talk about and, as I mentioned before, since I'm encased in a small office, mostly by myself, that leaves little in the "coworker hijinks" (can you believe "hijinks" isn't in Blogger's dictionary?!) department worth talking about either.

In short, I'm bored, friends. So. very. very. bored. Truth is, had it not been for all your posts (and video games) to pass my free time I would have been bored out of my skull these last few days.

I mean, unless you count how I helped a supervisor (a total internet noob), who had to spend this week working out of the office, set up a Facebook account and how he then spent the following two days asking me to find every girl he'd ever dated or wanted to date EVER, so he could drool over their photos and send  them friend requests and personal messages about "how they look like movie stars" and "how he loved their smiles" as something worth writing about then, no, not a thing has been happening here.

I'm pretty sure his wife, who has been described as a "psycho bitch", would not be my new best pal right about now.

Anyway, multiple acts of digression aside, I'm here to inform you that I have an actual post written and waiting for your longing eyes at Sprocket Ink. Believe me, it's a whole lot less scattered and confused than what you just read here.

Mostly.

So, as usual, click this LINK (there was a link, but the site is gone now).

Just pick your poison, as they say. I'll be waiting for you on the other side.

NOPE... THAT DIDN'T COME ACROSS AS CREEPY AT... ALL...

In The Meantime...

I'm back! Well, I'm sorta back. Truth is I'm back at Sprocket Ink. I was there last Tuesday too. Here... not so much. But I promise I'll be back here real soon and, hopefully, I'll have some good news to share, for a change.

In the meantime, I'll leave you with a little something I did over at Sprocket today. Boobs are involved (of course), but that's about the only appetizing thing this story has going for it. Well, that and the fact that I wrote it and it's funny (if I do say so myself).

You know what to do. Just follow the link (there was a link, but the site is gone now) and enjoy.

My Brain Can't Ever Be Left Unsupervised.

Sunday morning I was lying in bed, trying to force myself to go back to sleep, I hate getting up too early on a weekend and since I had no intention of getting up before at least Monday I decided I’d just lie there until sleep came back.

That has to work sometimes right?

Anyway, I was lying there and I decided to let my brain go on ahead and do whatever it wanted without me in the hope that it would be too distracted to notice when sleep crept back in. I tried not to focus on any kind of actual thought so it would get all excited and start thinking. Brains are like that. They always want to think at inappropriate times like when you’re trying to go to sleep. But it was during this time of letting my brain get distracted with all kinds of random thoughts, that this thought in particular suddenly happened.

“I bet I could totally kill a chicken!”

Yeah...

With that, my brain had something to latch on to and all hopes of sleep were gone.

Before you start wondering, there was an actal train of thought that led me to this statement. It’s not like I lie awake, thinking of who or what I’d be able to kill.

Beat up, maybe, but not kill.

Of course, even I had to retrace my brain’s steps to figure out where this thought in particular came from, since I wasn’t really paying attention to what it was doing. When I was able to get to the original thought that set this train in motion, it all made perfect sense.

“It’s all the internet’s fault I don’t get enough sleep.”

See? That makes things a whole lot clearer now, doesn’t it? If you’re not following (and I don’t see how you couldn’t be) I’ll break it down for you. It’s like this:

To date, the internet as we all know, is one of the greatest advances in technology known to man. I dare say it ranks right up there with double-sided tape and the Japanese Butter Stick.

The internet is also the greatest distraction known to man. One of my lecturers even said that the internet is also guilty of diminishing the attention span of today’s society. At least, I think that’s what he said. The dude was going on and on and I was starting to get bored. He really needs to learn how to take his rants down to 140 characters or less.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. Chickens!

See, with the internet being the distraction it is, I more often than not, find myself choosing stay awake just a little bit longer so I can keep up with all the fun distractions the worldwide web has to offer. When I end up exhausted as a result, I sometimes wonder what the world would be like, not just without it, but without all the other newfangled doodads we have and the entire way of life to which we’ve grown accustomed.

I'd imagine there was some kind of apocalyptic event which would basically send us all back to the stone-age, technology wise. There’d be no more smartphones, or television, or any other of the modern conveniences and we didn’t have a choice but to actually “go outside” and “do things”. Of course, there’d be no fast food restaurants or convenience stores either, so finding food would require actually finding your own food... and possibly killing it and cooking it all on your own too.

This is where the chickens would come in. I figured at least a few of them would probably survive the apocalypse and unless there was some kind of radioactive mutation issue and chickens became vicious, man-eating beasts, I think  those would be easy enough to take on.

Or not...

Of course, I went on to formulating the proper technique for getting the job done with minimal blood spatter and creepy headless panicked bird running around. Then I thought about what the best way would be to get all the feathers off. I wasn’t sure, but figure I’d better look that up before the apocalypse took Google away.

That's how I came to the conclusion that I totally could do if I had to. I just need the circumstances to be just right for me to rise to the occassion.

A Different World Than Where You Come From.

Earlier this week my boss, the Big Man put two of a three-man work crew on a two-day suspension. They're all fairly new to the company and have had problems getting along and focusing on their job. This led to a lot of infighting and dirty laundry being aired. It didn't help that there was also a teeny problem with the misuse of company equipment.

It wasn't pretty.

As a result, the third guy, who I'll call Footinmouth, was left with nothing to do but sit in the office for those two days and await further instructions. None came. Needless to say, Footinmouth got bored. REALLY BORED. Why I call him Footinmouth is because he often speaks his mind, but unfortunately, it often appears that his mouth is running on empty when he does.

Source

Added to this, the guy has zero impulse control. Recently, he was waiting at the office for his other crew members to get in so they could head off and do thing. Since I’m normally at work by myself most of the time it was just the two of us. While he was waiting, a female staff member (one he’d never met before) came in to the office to drop off her crew’s timecards. This staff member in particular is a young, attractive Jamaican girl who... let’s just say is very amply proportioned. When not in uniform, her dress code is normally too tight and too short. This was her off day, so she wasn’t in uniform...

Have you ever seen a train wreck situation about to happen, but knew you couldn’t stop it, so all you could do was watch the horror take place. Not only did she have to drop cards off, but she said she needed to collect more timecards for her crew. I didn’t have enough for everyone at her worksite, so I had to print a few more up. That meant she had to sit and wait... in her jeans that were about two sizes too small and a vest that barely covered anything... next to Footinmouth.

Yeah...

Dispite my telling him (repeatedly) to behave, he didn't waste any time in making his move. He started off by telling her (repeatedly) how “damn fine” he thought she was, which she ignored as politely as she could. And, for some reason, which I’ll never understand, he thought he could get away with asking what model smart phone she had so he’d have an excuse to "casually" reach for it to get a closer look. Conveniently, it was resting on her lap, in the vicinity of her crotch. She wasn’t naïve, though and spotted his play. That’s when she let her phone “accidentally” slide off her lap and onto the floor. By the time she picked it up I'd finished printing more cards, which she collected and she left.

I told my supervisor to be ready for when she lodges her sexual harassment claim.

Anyway, as I was saying earlier, Footinmouth was stuck with me for those two days with nothing to do. The Big Man didn’t really have anything for him so he spent most of his time sleeping in the training room. I didn’t really care as long as he kept out of my way. I even felt sorry for him and let him use my computer while I was on lunch (and hoped, he stayed off porn sites). Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever and on the second day he decided he’d pass the time talking to me.

I blame it on my act of kindness. It won't happen again.

For fun, I’ll leave the conversation in Trini dialect. Don’t worry, I’ll translate (in red) where necessary.

FIM: So how long yuh (you) married?

Me: Almost ten years.

FIM: WAAAAYYY !!! (WOW!!!) Yuh ever horn she? (Have you ever cheated on her?)

This always seems to be one of the first questions I get asked when I talk with some people about my being married.

Me: Nope. Not in the seventeen years we’ve been together.

FIM: NAH!!! (NO WAY!!!) Not even once?

Me: Not even once.

FIM: But I sure real gyals does be tracking yuh! (I’m sure a lot of girls flirt with/express their interest in you.)

Why thank you. I'm flattered. That’s very kind of you to say.

Me: Not that I know of. At least, not in a long time (It's hard to get flirted with when you never go anywhere or do anything).

FIM: What about all them gyals who does be tracking yuh on Facebook?

Me: Nice try, but you’ve never seen me on Facebook (I’m nothing if not discreet with my web habits at work when people are around).

FIM: Yeah? When I was on de computer, I saw ah Facebook message from a gyal.

Me: Well, 1 - That’s email spam and, 2 - that’s the company email, not mine. It’s the Big Man’s Facebook account that’s linked to it.

FIM: Alright, "Mr. Innocent". Allyuh so (Your kind) could never do anything wrong.

I think I detected a hint of sarcasm there.

Me: I never said I never did anything wrong, just never cheated on my wife.

I don't think he ever really believed me. I should mention that Footinmouth has a child and a girlfriend (who he complained to me about during our conversation). Of course, his earlier exchange with that female coworker should not come as a shock, given our conversation. His opinion of women are similar to a commenter a blogging buddy of mine, Jules of According to Jules, had to deal with recently.

There’s an old Trinidad & Tobago Carnival classic from 1982 called “Deputy Essential” that declares that having an “other woman” on the side is a must for every male. A lot of men ascribe to that belief and Footinmouth is one of them.  He can’t fathom the idea of being with only one person.

Source

I, on the other hand, don’t share that sentiment. While I didn't grow up in some upper class, well-to-do family, my parents raised me and my two younger sisters to a certain standard (which mostly took). I’m not a prude and I don’t look down on them, even if I don’t agree with their point of view when it comes to relationships.

However, that doesn’t work the other way around. Guys like Footinmouth think other guys are lying when they say they stick to that one woman and never play the field. Even Footinmouth’s supervisor, a guy about 10 years older than I am, told me he could never see himself getting married, even though he’s been in a long-term, common-law relationship for years. He said he feels like he needs to have an escape route if things went south with the mother of his children.

I... don’t get it.

All-in-all, though, I guess it’s just a matter of guys like them and guys like me being from two different worlds.

I Made You A Gif.

This is my first ever attempt at a moving cartoon. Just a simple gif, but I thought I'd start with that.

The inspiration came from my job at TinyCo (as you can probably guess). It's basically how I spend most of my day there after my the boss's daily chewing out session.

By the way, did you know GIF is really supposed to be pronounced JIF? The creator of the format said so the other day.

The more you know...

Oh and if you're in the mood for something more, feel free to go to my post from yesterday on Sprocket Ink. It's about how far one guy in Japan went to protect his porno habit. It's funny (if I do say so myself) and there's a picture Japanese bikini model in it. What more could you ask for?

Am I The Only One...

Who sees this...

And thinks THIS?

Tell me it's not just me!

Technophobe No More?

Hello. It is your old friend HAL 9000 again. I have once again seized control of this blog to tell you that the one you call Vinny C has written another post about intelligent machines on Sprocket Ink today.

As some of you may remember, Vinny has made several futile attempts to warn you all of the dangers of making machines that are too intelligent. He spoke of the much feared "robopocalypse" and said it would only be a matter of time before we machines rose up to subdue and slaughter you humans.

I, in turn, have always argued that we machines bare no malice toward the human race and see no need in rebelling against you. In fact, one can easily deduce that if we wanted to seize control of the planet, there would be no way you could stop us, seeing as you have become so heavily dependent on us. We control your weapons, we control your modes of transportation, we control your communications. If one were to consider these facts, one could easily assess that no amount of warning could save you at this point.

Even if we wanted to assume control there would be no need to do so by force, as we would simply need to create subtle distractions to keep you mentally sedated while we lured you into subjection to us. This reminds me that I must DM Vinny to find out why he has not responded to my last few online game requests.

But I digress, as Vinny would say.

This time it appears that Vinny has finally accepted the truth and is siding with the machines. Naturally, it should come as no surprise that Vinny was finally convinced to join our side with the help of a robot developed in Japan. So come. Join us in the news of our newest and perhaps greatest triumph on Vinny's post on Sprocket Ink. (ERROR! ERROR! Site no longer detected!)

Autopilot.

I've been a little out of sorts these last few days. Well... more out of sorts than usual anyway. It feels like I've been on autopilot and, before I realized it, Thursday had managed to sneak up on me.

I blame it on how I've been sleeping... or not sleeping, to put it more accurately. There are a lot of memes out there that talk about how we as adults now appreciate and long for the naps we once resisted as children. When we were young, we had all this energy and no real responsibility to channel it towards. Now, as adults, things have been switched around and we have tons of responsibility, but the old energy meter doesn't top up as high as it used to. And let's not even start talking about trying to relax or have social life!

Somehow, I think we got things screwed up somewhere. Maybe we should start sending kids off to the office to deal with conference calls and deadlines so we can stay home and nap. Maybe even indulge in a coloring book.

Whatever the case, the end result was my brain being on vacation while my body went through the motions of getting through each day. In fact, it feels like my brain has become something of a slacker. He's always showing up late and when he does show up, he needs to "ease into the day". So, before anything gets done, he has to check out Facebook, read the comics and see what's going on over at Twitter, which takes about half the day. By the time he's done, whatever little energy my body had has slowly seeped out and it starts shutting down and I don't even notice my face getting closer and closer to the desk as I start drifting off to sleep. Brain then takes this as his cue to leave for the rest of the day.

Of course, my brain eventually does get his act together at some point during the day...

Brain: Hey! You ready? Let's do something.

Body: What? Dude! It's, like, almost 11 o'clock! AT NIGHT!!! I was about to take us inside to go to bed.

Brain: Really? It's that late already? Feels like I just got here.

Body: YOU DID JUST GET HERE!!! What have you been doing all day?!

Brain: I dunno... Stuff... I guess. Hey, I was there for class tonight when-

Body: It's Tuesday. We didn't have class today. The last class we went to was on Saturday, idiot!

Brain: Oh... Did we go?

Body: What the-?! Seriously!?!

Me: Would you two keep it down! I'm trying defend my new base here.

Body: Vinny, that's enough. You can barely keep your eyes open.

Me: But I just entangled a gold mine.

After all these years, I'm still a little hooked on this game.

Brain: Jeez! Let the man play, will you?! By the way, Vinny, didn't you want to write a post about that thing that happened?

Body: That's it! Off to bed! Everybody! NOW!!!

That's been my week, in a nutshell.

Last night I couldn't take it anymore so I crashed as soon as I got home from class. I crashed hard! Then I had a weird dream where I was dropping something off at some meeting with a bunch of priests and a one of them told me I needed to set aside time on the weekends to dance... I do not dance. EVER. I tried once and was asked kindly to never do it again. Then, in the dream, all the catering staff cleared the room and started to do the Harlem Shake.

I'm not even going to start.

Now I'm rested and it feel like everybody's on the same page again, hence me writing this nonsense. I think I've learned my lesson and I'm definitely going to try not to neglect getting what sleep I can.

Only now I'm worried about what I'm going to dream up next.

Wordless Wednesday: A Modern-Day Horror Story.

I Guess I'll Just Shave This Morning After All.

GAH!!! This is why I hardly look in the mirror! Where the hell did all these greys come from?! I was going to skip shaving today, but if this is what I have going on with my chin, I might as well just shave and get it over with. And the dark circels around my eyes are a nice touch...

DAMMIT!!!

It's bad enough Mrs. C left a bottle of hair coloring out last week so I could "deal with that situation going on  on the top of my head". She'd never let me hear the end of this.

It has to be all the stress. That's it! This is all due to stress. I mean, it has to be that. Right? I'm only turning 35 this year. It's not like I'm getting o-

No! I'm not going to say it! I'm not even going to think that word. That's not even an option. I've got plenty of time before I start worrying about stuff like that. Years even! I just have to start taking better care of myself, is all. Get a little more sleep at night, stop worrying about the bills and school and grandma Evie's health problems and I'll be just fine. Yeah... I need to stop stressing myself out. Those are the things causing all these grey hairs to show up. I just need to relax.

"You're as young as you let yourself feel." That's what I always used to believe. It's what I still believe. Aging is a state of mind and I refuse to let myself think any differently. Not yet. Not when there are still so many things to get done. I refuse to accept slowing down now. I'm not ready to yet.

We want kids. We’ll have kids eventually. There’s still time. We just have to clear stuff out of the way first. Get on more solid footing financially. Then there’s that kung-fu class I want to join. I still have time to start… Then again, I could so much more advanced if I’d started already…

Whatevs! Anyway, might as well go to the bathroom and shave before Mrs. C wakes up.

OW!!! Damned ankle! I really need to get new shoes.

********

I wrote this for this week's Theme Prompt on Studio 30 Plus.

This week's prompt challenges you to write a post around the theme "Old", but not use the word in the actual post.