Must Be Exhausting

I feel like a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest. Rare is the recent dull moment and most of the time I feel off-balance. Work has been work and will continue to be work, but right now it's a lot of work. I have been writing for the Houstonist a bunch too. Oh, and there's the house.

It still in a relative state of frat house chic. Clothes are strewn everywhere; halfway unpacked boxes litter the floor in all the rooms; and, my couch still lives in the garage, right next to my socks. I'd say it's coming along nicely. Nice enough to have poker night tonight! I feel like a junkie who's about to be dropped off at the meth lab.

Today I'm back at the office and trying not to space out per usual. It's not really working. Since you asked, things that occupy my brain power include:

• how did that grocery bag flying past the window got to be a 100 feet in the air?
  
• should I bench Ahman Green or not and why is Marques Colston a TE and WR?
  
• what's so bad about a bathroom palette of electric blue, super black, butter yellow, olive green & khaki?
  
• does my free mowing service include sundry raking of leaves or is that something I have to do?
  
• would a Taser be adequate in home protection or should I just get a .45?
  

Nihilism sounds like a better way of life everyday. But then, who cares?

Taste the Soup

Do you remember the last scene from Coming to America? You may not have seen it since it's after the credits, but it's Eddie Murphy as Saul who is recounting a recent restaurant experience. It goes something like this:

"Waiter."

"Yes, sir."

"Taste the soup."

"Is there something wrong with the soup?"

"No, just taste the soup."

"Do you need me to heat it?"

"No, just taste the soup."

"Where's the spoon?"

"Ah ha!"

I'll tell you where the spoon is. It's in Austin in my old apartment with the rest of my utensils!

SONUVA!

YGBFKM: Go Pee on WhiteFence

Gas Meter
Originally uploaded by JaseMan.

Today's You Gotta Be Fucking Kidding Me Moment is brought to you by WhiteFence & CenterPoint Energy.

Fade in to a grumpy man sitting at his computer trying to determine what needs to be done to move into his new house.

"I should probably switch over the utilities," he thinks. Using The Google, he quickly discovers that all essential utilities can be ordered from a portal called WhiteFence.com. In fact, he is redirected to WhiteFence.com when he attempts to order his electrical service directly from the provider.

Click. Scroll. Click. He's just ordered electricity and gas services and immediately receives order confirmation. He thinks the site is super useful and wishes everything involved with buying a new home were this easy.

Fast forward ten days to a scene of an irate man sitting at his computer. He's extremely agitated and may actually be turning green.
You won't like him when he's angry.

The source of his anger is what's missing from his home. He does not have gas for the first time in his life. The gas is not turned on at the home.

"No sweat," he thinks. "I've watched maintenance guys turn on the gas at The Bartlett House. I can handle this."

"I'll just turn on the gas at the meter."

He arrived at the location where the gas meter once lived. But, the gas meter was no where to be found. Perhaps the gas meters in the neighborhood had gone on strike and headed to San Juan del Sur for surfing. Alas, Jolene, the gas meter next door, confirmed that she was content and functioning properly.

A quick phone call to CenterPoint confirmed his worst fear. His order had not been received. Terse yet calm protestations are made into the phone. "Surely, you're out of your fucking mind! I submitted this order 10 days ago."

"I'm sorry, sir. We have no record of your order."

"But I ordered it through WhiteFence.com. I have the confirmation right here."

"Oh, did you say 'WhiteFence.com'?" snickered the customer service representative.

"Yeah, they did my electricity, too, which is on."

"Sir, no matter what you may have, we do not actually receive new service orders from that website. You'll have to call tomorrow to order your new service."

"But I have an order confirmation!"

"Doesn't matter."

"It's in writing."

"Doesn't matter. You'll have to call tomorrow to order your new service."

"You gotta be fucking kidding me!?"

Yo Mama's an Astronaut

tyler the rocket ship, originally uploaded by JaseMan.

And, apparently my brother's a rocket ship.