I Just Dumped 40 Guys All at Once

No. I'm not gay. I have officially decided not to ride in Mardi Gras next year, which means that thousands of people on the Uptown route will not have to worry about getting hit in the head by an errant throw from me.

I'm pretty sure this was the right decision right now. Ask me again in 310 days when I'm standing on the neutral ground watching my float roll by.

366 Days & Counting

My Cell, originally uploaded by JaseMan.

On this day in history:

1806: The Holy Roman Empire ended

1890: First electrocution by electric chair

1911: Lucille Ball was born

1928: Andy Warhol was born

1932: The drive-in movie was patented

1945: The Enola Gay dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima

1967: Mike Greenberg was born

1984: Prince released Purple Rain

1998: Monica Lewinsky testified before the Grand Jury about her relationship with President Clinton

2007: I started traveling to Ft. Worth on a weekly basis to work my current project. I was told that I couldn't decline it because I was a named resource in the contract. I should have started sending out my resume right then.

Please fasten your safety belt before reading this

It is done. MY LIVING ROOM IS PAINTED. The effort took 523 days to complete. No, it does not look like the Sistine Chapel, but it is ready for new furniture, which will be nice.

Special Thanks to Los Pedros & Le Toms for being gentle with the cattle prod and skillful with the paint brushes. As JLay said on Saturday, "Damn. If I'd have had to paint this room all by myself I never would have done it either."

Thanks to El Padrino & The Manatee for berating me all the time about just doing it, and showing off their own home improobment skills in the process.

I'll post a picture once I get back to Houston.

Hold still while I punch you in the face

Everyone has to put up with stupid people at their job. It's a fact. I like to think that the stupid people I work with are extra stupid.

My client requires background investigations on all personnel working on-site. The BIs are conducted by a reputable company with details going to only to me and the client's security group.

The only steps requiring effort from my colleagues is them filling out an authorization form correctly. SSN. DOB. First name. Last name. Etc. None of these are trick questions yet some folks have not yet figured out their birth date or their name.

Failure to complete the form correctly results in names not matching SSN records and life history which results in a BI rejection which results in the client escorting you from the premises which results in you not working on the project which results you potentially losing your job with McCall, Gilchrist & Haynes.

My colleagues know this. One would think that they would figure out the correct way to complete the form. Wrong. They screw it up all the time.

Today a colleague demonstrated a higher MQ (moron quotient) than I had ever experienced.

"Hi. It's JB. I need to get your actual name."

"OK. It's [not what was written on the form]."

"Confirm your birth date, please." He had screwed up this the first time he completed the form.

"It's [blah, blah, blah, blah, blah]."

"What's the purpose of this test?"

"The client needs to verify that you're not a terrorist."

"Can't you use the BI from when I was hired by MGH?"

"No. It has to be this one."

"But I don't understand why you can't use my previous results."

"It has to be this vendor. It is a national security issue."

"But I've worked for other companies that have been able to use previous BI results."

"That's great. But, that's not the case here."

"I can't believe that I need to fill out the same forms that I just did for MGH."

"This is a Department of Homeland Security issue. You have to use this vendor."

"But, I just..."

"Listen. THEY DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU JUST PASSED FIVE BACKGROUND SCREENS IN THE PAST SIX MONTHS! YOU HAVE TO COMPLETE THIS ONE!"

"O.K."

YGBFKM. I slammed the phone slightly as a I hung up and then walked a lap around the building before returning to my cube cell.

Big Trouble

Big Trouble, originally uploaded by JaseMan.

I know what you're thinking.

You're joking, right? Aren't you the guy who crashed two motorcycles in a seven day span in 2002? Didn't you follow-up those fiascoes with a near wipe out on a Vespa in Rimini two weeks later?

Nope. Yep. And, uh huh.

The fact is that I have wanted a motorcycle for eons. My spectacular crash near Melbourne Australia didn't do much more than provide a slight pause in my conscience. In fact, the crash was pretty exhilirating - scary as hell - but exciting none the less. I'd also like to think that my recent $3000 a pop trips to the shop for my VW have something do with my desire for alternative transportation, but that's not true. This is more about fun, rebellion and looking cool.

I finally have my own powered two-wheel vehicle after spending lusting after a 1966 Honda Superhawk 305, a Ducati Monster or a BMW touring machine. In fact, I only ended up buying my Virtacci Edge after my latest round of stalking Superhawks on eBay.

DFT and I were perusing my eBay Watch List late one night after dinner. I was stoked about the 1976 Honda Super Sport in mint condition...and the 1978 450...and the 1984 Interceptor. Mmmm hmmm. I would look super fly riding around on a red, white and blue grand daddy of today's crotch rockets.

DFT was more excited about scooters. One scooter caught his eye more than the others. The Honda Ruckus. $1900 for 49 ccs didn't seem like the smartest decision for me given my non-pixie like dimensions, but the design was pretty sweet. The engine was housed by a minimalist frame that makes the thing look more like a kit you put together than something produced by big industry.

We surfed motorcycle and scooters sites all night until we could surf no longer. Both of us were excited to head to the local scooter shop as soon as we could. We were test riding in two days.

A lunch trip turned in a scooter testing trip. Apollo Scooters was between me and DFT and seemed like the perfect spot to talk about lunch options. If we just happened to ride a couple of sleds around the parking lot, then we were cool with that. The place was packed with customers looking to get green. Guys bigger than me that looked like they should be riding Harleys. Nerd couples looking to cut their carbon footprint and raise their cool factor.

DFT and I both thought the Edge (not the guitarist) was the most intriguing model. Its style is very similar to the Ruckus (more precisely the Big Ruckus) but with a bigger engine - 150 cc. We took it for a spin around the parking lot. Uh oh.

JB: "We'd better get out of here before one of us buys this thing."

DFT: "O.K. Let's go to Jenni's and check them out online."

Lunch at Jenni's was great. The food was solid and our Internet searching uncovered an Edge on Craigslist for about $700 less than retail if you include the dealer prep fee.

You can see where that led.

The glass is half empty

Today marked birthday number thirty-five. Are you kidding me? 35! Me? What the? Who put my VHS tape of life on fast-forward?

I've just about crested the hump of life according to the Death Clock which lists my date of death as January 12, 2044. That's only 36 years away. Which means that I'm in the middle of my life. Which may be interpreted by some, and by some I mean me, to indicate that I'm middle aged.

According to the Wikipedia:

Middle age is the period of life beyond young adulthood but before the onset of old age. Various attempts have been made to define this age, which is around the third quarter of the average life span of human beings.

The US Census lists middle age as 35 to 54. AAAGGGHHH! Say it ain't so, Joe.

Fortunately, the remaining "various attempts" at defining middle age are OK. One lists the period as 40 to 60. The other lists it as 45 to 60. Woosah! Blood pressure dropping without the aid of drugs.

Wait. There is more.

In many Western societies, this is seen to be the period of life in which a person is expected to have settled down in terms of their sense of identity and place in the world, be raising a family, and have established career stability. It is also a period often associated with the potential onset of mid-life crisis.

Sense of identity? Check, I guess.

Sense of place in the world? Check.

Raising a family? Nope. But, my diaper changing skills have been requested by toddlers with dirty diapers.

Established career stability? What does my asking a colleague how much notice was required to quit indicate to you?

Potential onset of mid-life crisis? Ha! No way. I'm way past "potential" and am fully engaged in "onset."

Overheard @ DFW

People say the most outlandish shit during conversations. I wonder if they realize how stupid they sound. All of the following are lines overheard from dialog between strangers in DFW airport.

"Mormon is just like Catholic but without all the booze."

"Hi, my name's Colleen. Irish on both sides with a little bit of German."

"I make a lot of money."

"My brother runs all of the air operations [for the war in Iraq]. He's a really big stud."

I changed a poo-poo diaper and lived

Those of you playing along at home can cross another item off of the "JB, You're Almost a Grown-up" list. I change KP's poo diaper last Saturday all by myself. And, I only used three baby wipes.

In related news, I am now accepting applications from career women seeking a stay-at-home dad.

It'a been worth his doin' it, if I coulda just caught 'em

A few Mondays ago I returned from a weekend trip to Chicago. The trip kicked butt, but what I found upon my return did not. My car had been keyed, very thoroughly, up and down both sides. Thanks, degenerate.

I was starting to get bored with a normal paint job. I really appreciate the pin stripes. Couldn't you have at least made them straight? I guess not since it was perfectly centered between those yellow lines on that legal parking spot. Who knew it was reserved for you? You should have written "Reserved for Asshole" in neon green on the parking stopper.

I'll defer to Pulp Fiction on this one.

LANCE
They should be fuckin' killed.
No trial, no jury, straight to execution.

VINCENT
I just wish I caught 'em doin' it, ya know?
Oh man, I'd give anything to catch 'em doin' it.
It'a been worth his doin' it, if I coulda just caught 'em,
you know what I mean?

LANCE
It's chicken shit.
You don't fuck another man's vehicle.

TicketMaster should burn

Single game Houston Texans tickets went on sale today. The Saints are coming to Houston on November 18th.

I have been salivating about today since the schedules were announced a few months ago. My weekly ritual on Mondays has been: 1. get plans working for the next weekend, 2. put the trash out and 3. investigate buying tickets for Saints v Texans.

Here's how my day shaped up:

9:45 AM: should I stay and buy tickets on the phone or web. Or, should I go to TicketMaster at Fiesta?
9:46 AM: Internet connectivity issues encountered. Looks like I'm heading to Fiesta.
9:47 AM: scramble to find clean clothes and my wallet.
9:50 AM: buckle belt as I'm walking out the door to my car.
9:51 AM: get pissed off again about the key marks on the side of my car.
9:52 AM: peel out heading toward Fiesta
9:53 AM: call everyone who may have potentially to be interested in going to the game to offer to buy them tickets.
9:57 AM: slide around the final corner; Fiesta is in sight just on the other side of traffic.
9:58 AM: dial up TicketMaster on the phone to hedge against a long line.
10 AM: screech to a halt, exit the vehicle, slam the door and wog to Fiesta.
10:01 AM: enter third and last position in the TicketMaster line; overhear first position lady asking for Saints tickets.
10:02 AM: enter the voice prompt menu for ordering tickets via phone.
10:03 AM: FPL says, "That's too expensive" and leaves. Number 2 assumes the position
10:04 AM: No. 2 begins asking about every section in Reliant Stadium for the Colts game
10:05 AM: nearly throw my phone across Fiesta after I get booted from the voice prompt system. At least I am still in line.
10:06 AM: call TicketMaster back.
10:07 AM: voice prompt system puts me back in another loop.
10:08 AM: I would be sleeping through his interrogation of the one ticket seller, but I am too pissed off about him and the phone. The steam would scorch my eyelids if I shut them.
10:09 AM: voice prompt system tells me that I have successfully nailed down two tickets together for the game.
10:10 AM: I am able to clearly visualize virtual tickets to the Saints game flying out of a cash drawer type dispenser. My return to reality yields the interrogator still in action.
10:15 AM: voice prompt systems informs me that my total for two tickets is $656 and asks me to enter my method of payment
10:15:01 AM: I hang up the phone and shove it into my pocket.
10:22 AM: No. 2 finally leaves after saying: "Well what do you have in this section? Nope. That's too much" and repeating.
10:23 AM: I reach the window and ask for four seats on November 18th for Saints v Texans.
10:24 AM: "We only have single seats left, and none of those are in the same row" comes the reply.
10:25 AM: I head straight for the automatic doors and am behind the wheel before the lady can finish asking me if there's something else she can help me with.
10:30 AM: arrive back at FPR anxious and stewing about the debacle that just unfolded.
10:35 AM: confirm that it is not a dream; this did just happen.
10:36 AM: check HoustonTexans.com for any sign of a pre-sale, which may have led to only single seats remaining for the general sale, as the ticket lady suggested.
10:39 AM: begin counting to 1,000 in an attempt to lower my blood pressure
10:40 - 11:56 AM: replay the scenario in my head again and again just to be sure that there was nothing I could have done differently.
11:57 AM: decide that it's time to get medieval on the backyard
12:30 PM: the backyard flowerbed has been annihilated in lieu of beating the crap out a TicketMaster executive or anyone who happened to be able to buy a pair of tickets to the game.

I didn't get any tickets, but I got some chores done. "So, I've got that going for me..."

YGBFKM: Gmail turns 502

Hurry up, please. Daddy needs his junk.

YGBFKM: Work interferes with another road trip

Great TX Road Trip
Originally uploaded by JaseMan.

The Great Texas Road Trip has been canceled due to a work trip to Omaha. What the? How does this happen? I had reserved next week for vacation! I saw it entered in the system. Apparently it's good at taking reservations, but it's operators are not that good at holding the reservation.

This is not the first time that work has gotten in the way of my road trip aspirations. Remember the Great Western US road trip circa Fall 2003? No? That's cuz it got killed before it was launched by work. Remember the rescheduled Great Western US road trip circa Summer 2005? No? That's cuz it got killed before it was launched by work.

Here lies the Great Texas Road Trip. Dead: May 14, 2007. Born: May 18, 2007. R.I.P.

One down, six to go

Can you see my tonsils?
Originally uploaded by JaseMan.

Ladies & Gents, you may have experienced incredibly bad weather and lightning strikes this weekend and attributed it to something like atmospheric conditions. Uh, you'd be flat wrong. All that crappy weather indicated that the first of the seven signs of the apocalypse has been completed.

The Ambassador of New Orleans will now by Ombudsman of the Strawberry Patch. Big Dave has moved from New Orleans to Ponchatoula. Whatever happened ye old adage, "Big Man, Big Town?" I'll give you a minute to catch your breath.

It's taken me three months to digest this, but things really hit home when he called me from the cab of the moving truck on his way home. I was surprised he even got a signal way out there in the sticks. Didn't realize that Sprint PCS provided service in The Shire. Be sure to tell Frodo and all the other Ponchatoulian hobbitses that I said hi.

I wonder if this means the "New Orleans is Coming Back" magnets will be offered 5-for-1.

Alanis Morissette is jumping the shark @ Starbucks right now

I'm sitting in the newest Houston Starbucks (shut up) trying to get a bit of non-work work finished up. Fat chance. I know that coffee shops aren't supposed to be like libraries, but FOR THE LOVE.

Alanis is dying over the sound system. She just got finished with her Joss Stone meets Sarah McLachlan interpretting Natalie Merchant version of Isn't Ironic dontcha think?

It's not ironic. It's CRAP.

What happened to the pissed off girl who made Fiona Apple look like a well-adjusted teenager? I used to be scared to listen to Jagged Little Pill in the dark because I thought I might wake up with bloody sheet sans twig-n-berries. She used to be edgy, captivating and inspiring. Now I wouldn't be surprised to hear that she's filling in for Celine Dion in Vegas.

If this is what a "matured artist" sounds like, then please, please, please don't ever mature. The mature version of Hand in My Pocket is making Hinder sound good and that's just wrong on too many levels.

At least I've still got the boys.

Word of the Day: huh

huh - interjection. 1. a grunt articulated with a range of intonations to express surprise, disbelief, or confusion, or as an inquiry inviting affirmative reply; 2. a concise method of conveying "You don't say," "What the hell are you talking about?" or "You must be out of your fucking mind!"

The police officer told me that I could still get a parking ticket even though the meter ate my quarters. I was like, "Huh?!"

Impromptu survey finds tourists in NOLA still stupid

It's a long story, the details of which you'll be able to read shortly, but I'm stranded at Louis Armstrong Gate B5 right now. I've been overhearing little gems of stupidity all day, like New Yawkuhs howling and commenting on the Springer show they paid to watch in their TV chair or the woman crying to the gate agent after she missed her plane because she was in the bathroom. But, here's my personal favorite.

Touron 1: That place went to lunch for lunch today was great. What was it called?
Touron 2: Landry's. Yeah, it was great. The one in Dallas sucks.

As Dave would say, "YOU GET F!" You just visited the food capital of the South and went to a chain restaurant. YGBFKM!

They're from Dallas. I guess that splains things.

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!?"

Kelly Clarkson Signals Anxiety

Kelly Clarkson
Originally uploaded by lannkaster.

I'm closing on my new place tomorrow morning and am about to have a Trainspotting style panic attack. I can't sit still. I haven't packed anything. My apartment is a disaster. I keep picturing Kevin Bacon as Chip from Animal House. He's screaming, "Remain calm all is well" but all I seem to hear is Kelly Clarkson singing "Since You've Been Gone."

Whoa Kelly Clarkson!

Time managment pundits on the InterWeb write about focusing on the quick wins and recent accomplishments to help you stay focused. Well, I've accomplished exactly five things on a to-do list featuring 62 items.

I'd try to get back on target, but my gCal reminder just sounded indicating it's time for more time sucking lunch.

14 Months, 16 Babies

Los Pedros
Originally uploaded by JaseMan.

Nothing makes you feel like you're a bit behind the race pace like your friends and family hatching a dearth of young 'uns. Sure, most of the new parents are still a couple of years older than me, but damn, did you all drink the same Kool-Aid last year?

At least 16 babies have been born to my friends and family during the 14 months. The Rubinator started everything last August when she debuted on August 5, 2005. Then came Owen, Kaia on Valentine's Day, Briggs, Kalle, Zoe, Henry on my birthday, Gracie, Kate, Calvin, Adele, Saylor, Emmett, Isaac, Annelise & Grant.

I'd be loaded if I only I were innovative enough to invent something that all new parents needed tons of besides diapers and breast pumps.

I've learned two important things as a result of all these hatchlings: 1. you can get practically any crying infant to shut their yapper by bouncing them on one of those exercise balls (yeah, Kalle) & 2. don't drink the water at any of my friend's houses cuz that's how they got prego

Urinal Rules Apply

Guys, you wouldn't stand right next to someone at a wall full of empty urinals would you? I didn't think so.

I am working during my six hour lay over in Newark's cavernous President's Club, the one by security not the one above McDonald's. Here I sit being productive until some schmuck sits down right next to me to make a phone call. It wouldn't be a big deal if there weren't 27 vacant cubes with phones in this general vicinity. That's not to mention the other mostly vacant cube farm in the other part of the club.

He didn't even leave the customary empty seat between us. I'm pretty sure he rinsed with Tar & Nicotine mouthwash and topped it off with Eau d'Old Fart.

"We got a limo to drive us to the airport. I need to drive classy."

"The husband got a job? I didn't know she was married. That's amazing."

"Give my love to her...and them, too. Tell them I'm going to see Ted."

"I'll call you later tonight."

That's sweet, bub. Next time use a phone that's far enough away so that your neighbors can't hear the cat using the litter box on the other end of the line.