Butt @ MindSay

I guess this could be also titled, "WTF?", but as I try to find a suitable title, I'm at a loss right now. So here goes:

 

Work is applying enough of a squeeze on me that I feel I'm in a trash compactor. Except there is no interesting smell I've discovered. I would however like to blast some people just to get them off my butt. As I was describing it to a shy, quiet female coworker today as we met in the lunch line to warm up our food,

 

"I feel like I'm sticking my butt over a fire to see how warm it is. Then I realize, 'ooh, it's hot!' and then stick my butt over another fire to see how warm that is. And I say again, 'ooh, this one is hot too!'"  I accompanied each 'ooh!' with a butt wiggle for effect.

 

So I can't find a cool fire to put my butt over, since so many people are lighting them under me.

 

 

I was testing on a mockup this morning, the 5th? 6th? day of testing. Once I got this round of data, I realize that I've been running some equipment too slow. All my data is worthless for this exercise. So I'm kicking myself in the butt for being so stupid.

 

 

Driving home from work, I see a black guy in a Trailblazer next to me at the stoplight. As we're waiting for the light to turn, he literally gets out of his car, goes to the tailgate, lowers it, opens up a cooler, gets out a Miller Lite, and gets back into the driver's seat.  If anyone needed a kick in the pants....

 

 

I am at home after busting my butt at the gym. My head was screaming at my body to finish what I had programmed in the elliptical and not shortcut, despite my legs demanding to stop, my heart in agreement, and my stomach saying 'Feed me, Seymour!' in no uncertain terms. I finished it, all 50 minutes at relatively high speed and resistance. So I feed my belly, and then feed my Facebook/Mindsay addictions, and notice that my friend count on both has risen (thank you to Mindsay people, you know who you are!) Now on Facebook, it rose one whole person, an old high school friend finally made it online. But the count rose 2. So now the search is on to find who came back or who accepted. Turns out back last week, when I got all pissy and frustrated during Hell Week , one of the ladies came back. Or reactivated her account. Or something, it looks like it hasn't been touched in a week. Sooooo..... ? I am an ass?  Yeah, that fits.

[Update July 18: What was up on Facebook, is now back down again. So I don't know if I'm an ass anymore? Confused would be a great word here.]

1) An Elvis Costello 'Greatest Hits' CD that lacks the song 'Veronica' on it.  What is that?  It's kind of like the Queen Greatest Hits we bought several years ago that didn't have 'Bohemian Rhapsody' on it, but that was a bootleg thing we got for about 5 dollars.  This Elvis CD is legit-produced.

2)  Why it can't go more than a day without raining or being otherwise shitty out up here.  What's wrong with sunshine during summer?

3) How did it look like a normal hotdog with mustard on it, but it was one of the worst meals of my life?  I mean, all 3 aspects of it, the bun, the dog itself, and the mustard on it, were all terrible.  On a side rant, I hope I go the rest of my life never even SEEING another one of those hotdog buns that just looks like a folded piece of white bread; that might be the stupidest thing I've ever seen. 

4) Why it looks like someone shaved a small area near my cat's butt between yesterday and today.  It's a tiny little section of hair missing, but it is definitely missing.  Who shaved Jackson's butt?

I was having a moment of weakness. I feel much better now about my jiggly butt!

            One day last week, on the bus ride from Brewster to Minges, a young man approached all the young lady passengers individually in an attempt to find a lunch date.  Unless he found success after I had disembarked, he ate alone.

            My initial reaction was that he had a hell of a nerve, but upon reflection I had to admire his spunk.  He took “if at first you don’t succeed...” to a whole new level.  Perhaps if I had been as bold, I would’ve had my first date before I was 27 (Boy, was it awkward when her dad drove us to the movies).

            I’m old fashioned I guess.  I just wouldn’t go up to a complete stranger and ask her to lunch.  She’d probably slap me, and I know my wife would.

            I guess young people are more liberal than I was at their age.  Take clothing, for example. I looked like a white bread dork with my plaid shirts and freshly-pressed khakis, but the other day I saw a guy in a ragged T-shirt, shabby shorts, and flip-flops sitting on the floor outside a classroom.  I took pity on him and stuck a dollar in the cup beside him before realizing it was full of coffee.  When I found out he was a professor, I really felt like a putz.

            A word on flip-flops, and sandals in general.  Few things look as ridiculous on a grown man as sandals.  No male over the age of 10 should ever wear them.  Why?  Men have ugly feet.  I know.  I’m a man, I have ugly feet, and I don’t wear sandals.  No one wants to look down and cast their eyes on a set of hideous toes that look like hairy Mexican sausages.

            Young ladies, on the other hand, can pull off the whole sandal thing, provided they have cute toes.  Ugly toes of both sexes should remain covered at all times.

            Speaking of young ladies, take it from the Old Guy, girls: a little mystery is a lot more exciting than miles of skin.  Those nice little nothings you’re almost wearing can make it hard for some of us to concentrate on what the professor is saying.  I mean, yeah, I’m happily married, but I’m not dead...and I really need my education.  If you’ve got it, flaunt it at the beach.  I don’t go there.

            And for anyone out there who doesn’t have it...please don’t flaunt it.  ’Nuff said.

            Speaking of flaunting...to the young man with his pants pulled down past his cheeks giving everyone in the Financial Aid office a clear view of his plaid undies last Wednesday: you’re in college.  You should be able to dress yourself by now.

            Now for a word about facial hair.  What’s up with all these mutton chop sideburns I’m seeing all over campus?  Elvis left the building a long time ago, fellows.  And if you’re going to have a beard, have the wherewithal to grow a mustache to go along with it.  Abraham Lincoln and C. Everett Koop are the only non-Amish who could ever pull that off, and let’s face it, they looked ridiculous too.

            While I’m at it, let’s talk about the bathroom for a minute.  Obviously I’m speaking only to the gentlemen now, but some of it may apply to the ladies.

            Flush.  That’s all I ask.  Ever hear of backsplash, guys?  Think about it.  Yeah, that’s right.  You don’t want it to happen to you, and I sure don’t want it to happen to me.  You flush at home, so do your fellow students the courtesy of flushing at school.  Soap and hot water are right behind you.

            I don’t mean to be critical.  My intent more than anything is to make you laugh, however, I also want to make you think.  I’m a firm believer in personal responsibility and in putting one’s best foot forward...preferably in a real shoe.

 

© 2007 by J.D. Lewis