Day 241: Evil Bugger

To those who think cats are somehow okay as pets, consider this: Nazis are descended from primitive cats, this is scientifically proven. And we know what the Nazis are truly famous for, right? Doesn't it bother you to know that cats and Nazis have so much in common? Hell, even Saint Francis of Assisi hated cats. It's in the bible, I swear.

Day 240: Compensating for Something?

Okay, I don't really care that this dude had a jet engine in the back of his damn truck. Nor do I care that it was being fired up for the amazement of the masses. What was starting to bug me, as was the pollution spewing burn outs an hour prior was that it was disrupting a highly talented act at the Jackson Coffee Co.

Day 239: Group Planking....with a Hot Chick!

Yes, yes...don't be jealous that I, however being stupid and embracing this "planking" business, am in such close physical proximity to such a ridiculously beauty and desirable woman. It's a very good thing I'm lying face down, or she might have a clue how excited I am ;)

DUUUUURRRRRRRTYYYYY!

Day 238: Planking at JCo

So...Rob just couldn't resist. When the knowledge that even the distinguished Hugh Hefner (El Douche) has dabbled in the cultural phenomenon that is "planking," Rob just had to jump on board; be a follower if you. Though when you're as short as Rob, it's best to be a follower rather than get your ass lost among the normal folks, and by normal I mean the people taller than 5'5".

What is this phenomenon, and where did it come from no one knows. Maybe it was Tom Green who pioneered the whole movement. Perhaps some Limeys from Great Britain started it. Who cares?! It's lame and fun at the same time.

However, since he didn't have a surface under his entire body, could this be considered "extreme planking?"

Day 237: Behind the Scenes @ The Laundry

Just in case you ever wonder how the laundry in the hospital comes all nicely folded, don't think for a second that human hands have much to do in the matter. Really, we just load it into the machine pictured, it gets spread out, ran through the machine, ironed, and comes out all nicely folded at the other end. No team of midgets, slaves, or house elves here folks.

Day 236: Mister Perfect!!

Workplace politics have always given me cause to laugh. I say politics, but I also mean to include drama surrounding personnel conflict within the workplace. Not that everyone has to get along, but just go in there, do your job and avoid talking shit about others. While a little shit talking may be cathartic at times, it doesn't really change anything, unless you're purpose is to get someone fired, in which there are bigger problems that need confronting.

Big Paul, featured in the shot, is the regular 3rd shift Prince of the Poop Palace. He comes in and slangs the laundry like a fiend and gets the job done better than anyone else. Granted, he doesn't have the same responsibilities that those of us in the day have, but trust me, I've worked next to the dude; he works like he loves the job. Crazy really. I try my damnedest to keep up with him, but I'm usually broke off long before I leave.

Someone with whom I work, decided to take a jab at him the other day. Instead of having anything of any real import to say, she spits out that "well, we can't say anything about Paul, because he's Mister Perfect."

I thought it funny as hell, so, in an unusual move for me I decided to fill Paul in and tell him.

A week following that conversation I had an idea to get a few shots of him posing. I'd take the pics and photoshop them, create an image declaring him "Mr Perfect," throwing his mug on a T-Shirt, and rocking it at work. It hasn't been done yet, but it's coming.

Day 235: SMALLVILLE CLASS OF...

Yes, I am a geek. Accept it. I have ;)

Day 234: Bath Time Vernie!!

Not sure when the transition happened; from water hating mongrel to water loving. At some point she just decided to jump in the tub with me and get all wet. The first time I was pissed, but I began wondering if she really thought of getting a bath. Maybe she associates the water in the tub with the baths she's been given in the past and decided she wanted another. Not sure, but she doesn't take much coaxing to get in the tub these days.

In all honesty, she's not quite a hydrophiliac. She'll turn and run away from waves should they come crashing in her direction, while at the beach. Spray her with water and she'd likely piss herself the first time or two. She just likes being clean I guess, which is all good by me.

Day 233: Asbestos Laden Room....

It took me a few days to notice the remodeling going in this back room, but apparently there was an amount of asbestos detected that warranted the remodeling.

Yeeeeah...I feel just peachy about that.

Day 232: Couple O' Co-workers

While nowhere near as...pretty or artsy as a couple of the other pics I snapped, Cassie's face (she's on the left) got me thinkin' about all the pics we take where people, caught unaware, or given a less than flattering representation in a photo.

I have many a photos of me where I look like a total slob goon. They're just awfully hideous. Hell, I have photos where I'm posing and still manage to look like a damn Michael Moore-Shrek hybrid. There is a specific shot of me rockin' my scrubs, that no matter how often Annay assures me I do not look hideous, I know I do. I see that damn pic and think to myself, "not even were I the most desperate homo on Earth and he were my only chance for a lil' last minute lovin' would I touch him."

Day 231: Hello Mr Army Bear...

Boning up on all my mad nursing skillz, I pulled out all of my tools and got down to brass tacks. This includes my pen lights, stethoscope, scrubs, pink floppy phalic things (wait..what?), and whatever else I need, including Mr Army Bear.

As he was a year ago, Mr Army Bear was, and is again in recent weeks, my focal point for any activities related to a Health Assessment. When I had to practice on someone, but no one was to be found, there was Mr Army Bear to assist me in any shape, form or fashion. At the very least, he provided a person (of sorts) to address on those days where I wasn't really in the mood for a partner.

Day 230: Bored Before Woik...

Taken a short while before work, I realized that I hadn't moved so much as a muscle - other than my mouse hand - for nearly an hour. Opening up photobooth (for Mac), I snapped a quick shot. One, I look pretty damn bored. Two, my neck and chin make me gag, but this is better than the others I took. Three, I was in a "hate my life" type of mood.

Day 229: Good God I will always love my Pops!

Little things are often the best things that one can do for another. When I was growing up, I couldn't have all the coolest play sets my friends did for their toys. No Lego monorail for me. No Super-Dee-Duper GI Joe space shuttle for any of my burrfdays. Not that I'm complaining mind you. Growing up, it never really registered that we were hard up for money, so it wasn't really an issue in my young mind. Life was good, I love my family, and that's all that mattered.

A particularly fond memory growing up revolved around a dirt pile in my backyard, which raises the question of why nearly every poor, white family have a dirt pile in their back yard. Oh well, another time perhaps.

In this dirt pile my mother used to carve out entire cities for me to play in. Not me personally, but for my action figures and toy cars. A simple pile of dirt, but it was more than enough to protect me from the reality of being a slightly needy family. And it's always a positive memory of my mother that makes me thankful that I have her.

Going to work, I pack my lunch as often as possible so I don't sink any unnecessary cheddar into the cafeteria at work. It's great; save money and eat a bit healthier than I would normally. In the lunch box in question, in the pic I mean, I have two biscuits and a bomb ass creation of rice and chicken that was created by my father, a culinary wizard of the highest order. But it's not any of that I'm focused on, it's the piece of chocolate covered bacon that draws my eye(s).

Referring to the awesome brilliance of my Pops, that lil' treat wasn't in there when I finished packing my lunch, so do you have any idea how it got there?

Day 228: Have ya' seen..

...this place in a hot minute? I can remember being in my early to mid teens when they closed the Michigan Ave store and replaced it with a Felpausch. Not that it really had any bearing on my life, but I also recollect being offended that they closed it down. Why? Can't say for sure.

Day 227: Should have taped my glasses...

As time passes, I slowly broaden my nerd horizons, pushing the boarder to points I hadn't thought possible. Dressing up at Comic Con is something that I likely made fun of when I was a younger teen, but now I see nothing but fun in it. In fact, the lady to my right in the picture (*my* right) has provided me with inspiration for my first costume I'll wear at a Con. Yes, I'll rock a Slave Leia outfit, and I shall rock it well. Costumes I'll wear are likely going to be Star Wars or Superman oriented. Between those two worlds, there is a lot of inspirational material.

The Slave Leia outfit is also designed to embarrass any friends who may be with me for the weekend, with a particular emphasis on my buddy Rob, who is as much, if not more, a Star Wars fanboy as I am. Telling my idea, he replied that he'd not even ride in the car with me if I went through with the plan. Oh Rob...we shall see....

Something that bothers me about the Con are the *opportunities* to meet and snap a shot with a celebrity. They had a myriad of aging and popular wrestlers there. Many actors and actresses from TV and film were there for our fan pleasure. Die hard fan of Ray Park of Darth Maul fame? Go get a piece of him! The Million Dollar Man? He's there for a pic and/or an autograph. Get up close to any one of them and even get your grope on. All this can be done...for a small fee.

Yes, that's right. The people there charge for pics to be taken or to sign the goods you've brought or bought. I know that's how they make coming to the Cons worthwhile and still maintain a name for themselves, but when they charge upwards of $70 for a photo op, I can't help feeling like a tightwad Jew hoarding my money from all of y'all thieves. They might charge as little as $10, which isn't bad at all, but still sort of funny that you have to use your own camera in many of the situations.

Something I found even cooler 'bout the whole gig was the willingness of random costumed peeps sporting enough to allow you to snap a pic. Like Slave Leia above, she was cool about it, but in hindsight I wonder if she were still cool at the end of the day. And then there were even bigger celebrities in my book willing to let me come behind the booth and be shot with all of them to my side. Giggitus...Maximus...let me tell ya'.

All gripes aside, I had a blast there. There is so much to see that makes my nerd cells rejoice and spending some quality time with some homies is always bomb ass as well. You can bet your begonias that my ass will be making a return trip, although I hope to have a few more bucks to lengthen the trip to several days.

Day 226: Epic Fail...

Often I wonder if deciding to use a screenshot is an epic fail as it's outside the parameters of my original project idea. *shrugs* No biggie I guess.

Why exactly I chose this screen shot is because for the first time in 227 days, I didn't have my camera out of my pocket the whole day. As I was loading the past several days off my camera, I came to the conclusion that amidst the many different photo choices, I had nothing representative from Friday. Yes, Friday = Fail, at least that's how I feel about it.

I could cite that I only really claimed to post a photo each day, rather than a photo taken from each day, but then I'd feel like a lying bastard.

Is one missed day in an entire year permissable? Why - no matter how lame some entries are - do I feel like a failure and a piece of poop?

Day 225: My Ride...

Yes....I had problems getting it to stay flat, the pic rotation I mean. Yes, I still have this car. Yes, I want to get rid of it, no matter how good it has been to me.

Day 224: Changing the View...

While waiting for my Chinese food order to be completed, I stepped outside to wait. Looking down the street I began thinking of the film "Dead Poets Society." Specifically, the scene in which Robin William's character stands on the desk and reflects on the importance of looking at life from a different point of view, or angle, metaphorically speaking of course.

Granted, this view was not life changing in the slightest, but I looked for several minutes trying to evoke some serious thought. The only major thought of significance was the question of how often I, or any of us, look where we're going. Really look at something and try to formulate a thought on the matter. On a superficial level, I can look at this view and reflect how much I appreciate Polly's for selling Bareman's. I could also say that I'm happy - on a certain level - that Playford Music is still situated to the right of the photo.

Beyond those few thoughts, actually concentrating on the scenery brought to mind very few things. The importance, I find, is that I took the moment to try and bring to mind something more. That I looked and...meditated (might be the word) upon the view searching for something I didn't see nor have thought of before.

Day 223: Monday Night....

Granted, it was cloudy walking out of work at 8:30pm, but seeing the parking lot lights on made me realize that fall is coming, and so are shorter days ahead. Not that I mind the fall or winter, but it always makes me a touch sad because I feel time passing, and I often feel as if I'm not moving along at the same speed. Life isn't a race, I know, but why then must I feel that it is this damn strongly?

Day 222: Another Edition of Beans and Cornbread

While not possessing the most extensive knowledge of movies in the world, I'd like to think what I do know is nothing to scoff at. My knowledge and love for cinema leads me to play games of linking up two actors. Goes like this: Morgan Freeman and Geena Davis, for example. Freeman was in "Se7en" with Brad Pitt, and Pitt was in "Thelma and Louise" with Geena Davis. Get the pic yet? No? Oh well...

I suppose there isn't much to say about this film shot other than - if you don't know from which film this comes, then you need to jump off a very tall cliff. Any clues would be most unfair.

Day 221: Backed Up Line...

There have been too many days where I've wanted to quit lately. Mostly because we're getting behind on our work in the back. Multiple reasons are contributing: hospital going through more stuff than seems possible being the chief among them, though there are other reasons.

A few extra people would be appreciated back here once every so often, to help get caught back up. Makes me laugh that they'll pull a much needed person - even if we're slammed - to help with stupid mundane tasks up front. Good God I have a hatred of people stacking damn wash clothes, because I'll see six damn women standing around stacking them when we're sweating our balls off in the back.

Oh well, I'll keep it short here. I was already pissed having to work a Saturday evening, and knowing I could hardly get anything done due to piss poor management really puts me in a shitty mood.

Day 220: Lame...

Every time I leave work I walk by these, barring the days it's too hot and I walk through the Anderson building to minimize heat exposure.They're not that pretty at all, but I've thought it would be fun to experiment with a Macro shot of these, and the results sucked so much ass I couldn't bring myself to post it. Instead you get just a simple straight on shot of them. Fascinating, ain't it?

Day 219: Papa O. Dee...

Your ass better know this guy's face.

Day 218: Garfie-Lood!

Garfie-Lood, as I referred to Garfield in my youth, has such dead pan humor; very dry humor, but I suppose that's what draws me to him. His comic strips are short, often no longer than three panels, unless you're reading one of the Sunday strips and then you get several more for a lengthier joke.

While sitting in my car Wednesday the 3rd, I was thinking about all things geeky and me. In my car I have several examples of my geekiness, and I think nothing but positive thoughts about that.

My initial thought was to do a series of photos capturing different examples of my nerdiness, but perhaps I should do a slacker theme, since I forgot to continue with it after the second day.

Day 217: These Parking Jobs Are Outta Control...

While I'd love to regale you with a tale marking my triumphant return to the Bone Island Grille, all I have is my irritation to point out. I really should start a separate album for bad parking jobs that draw my ire.

Day 216: Really? REALLY?!

Last week, I exchanged a number of messages with an individual (Xbox Live) who berated me for having what they perceived as an immature and damaging to the young player card for my Black Ops profile. My player card pic, for those who haven't a clue, is of mildly perverse nature: a smiley face with cartoonish boobs at the bottom of the screen. It was designed to look like the face was smiling at the boobs. Stupid I know, but whatever, I rarely even see it and others only see if they intentionally seek it out.

This artfully made player card pic to the right is an example of just how dirty people can get in the creation of their player cards. I'll be watching the guy who claims that pic to see if it ever gets reported and removed.

Choosing to shoot a pic of it and post it in the blog is a sort of test itself; to see if this pic can for any amount of time before being reported and removed.

Day 215: Witch Hazel...

Okay, she doesn't really look at all very hideous in this shot, but it made me laugh at the time because her hair was all frizzy looking that I had to snap it.

Day 214: Don't you think I'm...

...SEXAY?! Say that in a high pitched tone and it's even funnier. And if you're The Almighty Teepacolypse, it should make even more sense.

Being broke is a bitch, isn't it? Not that I'm so broke to the point of sitting outside stores in ragged clothing and begging (with a pseudo cockney accent) for alms. I've considered it...a great many times as well. Be even better were I proficient with an instrument so it wouldn't exactly feel like begging; rather it would be an exchange of sorts. This for that, quid pro quo, if you will.

One of the many things I've pushed to the wayside has been real haircuts. And before you think I was running around town all hippie like, know that I was having my wild mane maintained, but not up to desired standards. Instead of a stylist's chair, I sat atop a kitchen stool. Instead of a skilled cutter trained in modernity, I was at the mercy of a 68 year old woman who, while once very skilled with scissors herself, is stuck in the past as far as men's hairstyles go. Left to her own devices with my hair, I would have been closer to Greg Brady then any of the douche bags from Jersey Shore; though I can't say that's a bad thing.

Now that I'm what MARVIN would call gainfully employed, I've a few more bucks to spend on frivolous things, haircuts being one of them. So excited I was to finally sit down in a proper hair care chair and let Tara do her magic.

Per ettiquette, Tara asked, "how are we going to cut you up today?"

Simple responses not being my thing, I responded with, "I want to look so good that I question my own sexuality when I look in a mirror."

To that end, she failed, but I am more than happy the way things turned out.