Thursday, May 31, 2007

Extra Cheese


There just isn't pleasing some people! Who the hell knew Vader had a heart condition and Chewy only eats kosher? So the bacon-bar wasn't going over well with my new partners. Fine! Never mind the fact that everyone else loved it. But let's not forget that CyberD is a team player. So out goes the bacon-bar and in comes the next best thing since sliced bread! Literally.

What goes great on hamburgers, pizza, crackers, and heroine? That's right...

CHEESE. And while you're at it, make it extra-cheese. So I'm officially announcing that 2007 is the year of extra-cheese at The Wheel in Space.

I mean who doesn't like cheese? Apparently Han Solo. How was I supposed to know that he's lactose intolerant?

Give me a F-ing break!

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Record Turn-Out for First Apperance


The outpouring of support almost brings me to tears. If I wasn't so manly I'd probably have to use a kleenex right about now. It means a great deal that the people demonstrate their support with all the letters, emails, and ransom notes. I'm touched. I'm mostly touched by this crowd from my most recent appearance. Here are a few quotes from the rest of the team. You can tell they are moved as well.

Han: I owe YOU one, CyberD.

Vader: The foce is strong with this one.

Luke: But I was going to go to Tachi Station to pick up some power converters!

Chewy: Arrrrgggghhhhh!

R2-D2: Bleep!

Anyway, thanks again for all your support.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Sad news to report


As much as you loyal fans might assume that I am pleased by this recent turn of events, I must say that I am saddened that the group that I worked so hard to establish has now been relegated to appearing to an empty house in small-town corner bars.

That's right. It looks like the luster of The Quad has already worn off after the disappointing split late last week. Who knows what the fates have in store for them (most likely bankruptcy, massive drug-problems, rehab and jobs as used car salesmen) but I really do wish them the best of luck.

At least the booze was free at their last gig... so I heard.

Monday, May 28, 2007

CyberD gets great back-up team!

That's right, my loyal fans can see it here at The Wheel before the news sweeps the nation. Come tomorrow you're going to see this in The Wall Street Journal, U.S. News, and the New York Times. I must say that I'm super excited about this and I can't help but wish I had made this change sooner.

Believe it! You know what also doesn't suck in addition to me?

That's right... Star Wars.

And I've just signed a deal for Vader, Skywalker, and the rest of the crew to back up my new solo career! Eat you're heart out, Quad-Suck!

Friday, May 25, 2007

The Rumors are True


I understand that this news has shocked the nation. Apparently Dagromm, believes he is Eddie Van Halen but without the rockin' hair-style and bad-ass guitar riffs. Now that I think about it, Eddie Van Halen kind of sucked anyway. You know what doesn't suck?

Me.

But what hurts most is the silence from Q and Gyuss. That cuts deep and I suppose there is nothing more to be said. Good luck getting any pub without your front-man! That's right. I've been pulling these guys along for years. And I'm sorry it has taken me this long to respond but I wanted to make sure all my adoring fans had something exciting to look forward to.

I'm going solo. Believe it! You can expect all of the same great genius from my solo career that you did from The Quad. And I sware that I look bitchin' in spandex pants... unlike Dagromm!

One of the first big changes around here is going to be the 24 hour bacon-bar-buffet. I've been bringing up awesome ideas like this for a long time only for the rest of The Quad to shoot it down. And prepare yourself for a multitude of more brilliance.

Notes from The Road

This is what I know:

1) Airplanes suck.

2) Airports suck.

3) Rain is awesome on your yard but sucky at airports.

4) Ipods are filled with awesomeness unless the battery is empty.

5) Deoderant is awesome but even more awesome if the very large hairy traveler standing next to you had chosen to use it this morning.

6) ...and airplanes suck.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Twas the Season...



Few opportunities of genius have presented themselves in my life. This one is a classic. Back in the fall of 1995 one of my roommates (Braveheart) insisted on holiday decorations. I'm not a big fan of this, simply because I am too lazy to put shit up around the apartment. However, I was always a big fan of pissing-off our other roommate (Urban Cowboy).

It just so happened that Cowboy hated this spider decoration that Braveheart had hung over the ceiling light in our living space. Any time you clapped your hands the thing would start humming this high-pitched squeal and it would shimmy and vibrate for a good sixty seconds, only to be awoken again by the next clapping of the hands. He complained about the damn thing for the entire month of October. Nothing pleased Braveheart and me more than to come into the apartment and greet the room with a hearty hand clap, prompting Cowboy to curse us while reminding everyone that Halloween doesn't last forever.

Late one night Braveheart and I bemoaned the fact that we would eventually have to part ways with the decoration and wished that there were versions of the same concept for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New-Years, and Valentines. It was in that moment of silence between us that an epiphany struck us simultaneously. This blessed love affair didn't have to end! Surely we could remove the motor and sound-activation system from the spider, and place it inside other plush toys!

A turkey, a Santa Claus, even a baby-new-year that could later be converted into Cupid! We had the entire year planned out. It was going to be beautiful.

Step One: Find a suitable host for transplant.

Step Two: Perform the surgery.

Step Three: Decorate for Thanksgiving.

Step Four: Wait for hilarity to ensue!

Unfortunately, step one didn't go as well as we had hoped. We went to every conceivable shop in our college town looking for a stuffed turkey doll. There were none. It looked as if our little plan was to die then and there before it ever got off the ground. Our final trip took us to the toy section of Wal-Mart. Lining one wall of the store were hundreds of stuffed animals and not a single turkey in sight. Braveheart was about to give up hope when I grabbed him by the arm and turned his attention to our salvation. At first he refused to think outside of the box. I pressed the issue. He objected on moral grounds. I insisted otherwise. Eventually he succumbed to the idea and we took our surgical candidate home to prepare.

The operation was performed beautifully by my pre-med roommate and I was proud to assist. Later that day we took down our Halloween decorations and put up the festive trappings of fall harvest, including our new addition to the ceiling light in our living space. That night Urban Cowboy was greeted by a sight that will live in infamy!

Say hello to squealing-vibrating-Indian-princess!



Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Lunching with Big Dirty


It's not every day that you can have lunch with a local legend. Unfortunately for me it wasn't planned. I was going to have lunch with an old college friend yesterday. I went to the local Bar-B-Q and reserved a table for two. I waited patiently and watched as patrons filed into booths and waitresses rushed around busily working hard for the money.

It was just then that I caught the eye of none other than Big Dirty! I quickly turned my gaze to avert making eye-contact but it was too late. His long years of scanning bars for hot babes came in handy that day and my knowing look caught his attention. He kicked his head back, (a typical Big Dirty sign for hello) and flipped his Razor phone off as he strode over to my table. The following conversation ensued:

Me: I'm expecting someone.

Big Dirty: No prob, CyberD. I'll keep you company until they arrive.

Me: Well, errrrrr, okay.

Big Dirty: So, have you checked out these waitresses, man? They're totally hot!

Me: Not really, I come for the food.

Big Dirty: Gotcha, (he over-winks at me) the food. So what do you recommend? The chicken BREAST or THIGH!

(He cracks himself up and catches the attention of the waitress)

Waitress: I see your friend arrived, what can I get you gentlemen?

Me: Actually, he's not...

Big Dirty: (whispers to me) watch this...

Big Dirty: (to waitress) Hello there... (ogles her strategically placed name-tag) Mandi. Tell me, how good is your... pulled pork?

Mandi the Waitress: It's the chef's favorite and a very popular menu item.

Big Dirty: I bet it is! (he gives me the over-wink again)

Mandi: ummmmmm (looking at Big Dirty unsure of what to say)

Big Dirty: So tell me, I'm in the mood for some... smoked sausage. How are you at... smoking sausage?

Waitress: That's my personal favorite.

Big Dirty: I love it! You naughty thing!

Me: Dude, the girl is trying to work.

Big Dirty: She can work it all she wants as long as its for me.

Me: I'll have a water. Thanks, Mandi.

Big Dirty: How's your... Rubbed Chub?

Mandi: Don't you mean baked spud?

(Big Dirty is now cracking himself up and his shoulders heave up and down as he attempts to contain his uproarious laughter)

Big Dirty: No!

Me: I can't take this anymore.

Big Dirty: "That's what she said!"

I've never been kicked out of a restaurant before but there is a first time for everything.

Monday, May 21, 2007

The Bunny Challenge

I humbly submit this cute bunny pic as part of the challenge...

Oops!


So I'm kickin' some ass and takin' some names at work all day on Friday. I had been on the phone to prospects, setting appointments, and generally feeling really good about my productive day. It was a good day and I was motivated to stay at my desk over my lunch break and work on a few things on my "honey-do" list. Call the baby-sitter, check on flights for Thanksgiving, pick my nose, etc. etc. I'm flying through my list with the same speed and accuracy I've been doing with my work.

Next Up: Check Delta Flights for Thanksgiving. I've got Delta skymiles that are about to expire next year and since I don't fly Delta anymore, I'm hoping to cash in on a little free-miles before I close the book on Delta all together. The only problem is they don't really fly much out of my local airport so I really need to speak with a representative. A Big problem I have with the internet is that companies don't like to just hand over their customer service number... go figure. I guess they either expect you to figure it out yourself on-line or just go away. Not a problem for me, I do a google search for Airline numbers and find a whole list.

Look right there! It's the Delta Domestic Number! Don't believe me? Try it for yourself.

1-800-221-1212

Just one word of caution. Don't get your 1's and your 2's mixed up. Like say for instance...

1-800-221-2121

I'm warning you! Don't believe me? Try it for yourself.

Me? I'm expecting a call from Information Technology and Human Resources within the week asking for my resignation!

Friday, May 18, 2007

The Birthday Bonanza Bash Buffet - Part 3


We kicked this thing off with a bang on my birthday and we're wrapping it up on Q's birthday so for your reading enjoyment we present to you this Birthday Adventure: The Radio-Phonic Version.

“Pull over! Mango break!”

“What? It’s my damn birthday! I’ll do what I want to!”

“CyberD!”

“Q, show them what you’ve got!”

“Los Policia, Los Policia!”

“How do you like them apples?”

“This must be heaven.”

“Jackpot.”

“It’s our birthday!”

“Wanna fly?”

“No thanks, I’m already soaring!”

“Fair enough,”

“FIESTA!”

“Come On!”

“Dude, they want you to insert one of your US citizen babies inside of the barmaid”.

“With pleasure!”

“You’re so lucky, CyberD!”

“You’re next!”

“My heroes!”

“Get in, boys, we’re going home!”

“Damn! I forgot my Mangos!”

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Q's Love Affair with Ernest or The Tijuana Birthday Bonanza - Part 2


Q appeared hesitant at first and I must admit that seeing Q in his “birthday suit” (and me in mine) wasn’t something I would have ever expected to behold in my lifetime. I searched for some semblance of reason as I heard the barmaid’s muffled voice talking to, what I could only assume was a host of sexy senoritas on the other side of the door. As if reading each other’s minds, we blurted out, “It’s our birthday!” at the top of our lungs before ripping off our clothes. Q struggled with his socks as he spun around in a circle attempting to unleash the damn thing from his ankle, while I emptied the last vestiges of the Dos Equis still clutched in my right hand.

I looked over at the naked glistening body of Q and I was thankful that my drunken stooper would not allow me to remember this come tomorrow. Q’s sock still dangled off the end of his foot as he reached his hand out and offered me some of the before mentioned “party dust.”

“Wanna fly?” he asked me. “No thanks,” I responded, “I’m already soaring!” as I lifted my bottle in tribute to Q’s partying ways. “Fair enough,” Q responded before bending over and grabbing his wrinkled up leopard print thong underwear and strapped it onto his head like a king’s crown.

It was at that moment that the barmaid returned to the room followed by two very professional looking women. It was unexpected that they both reminded me of my Uncle Carl and unfortunate that they brought a burro into the room with them. They barely had the time to say a single word before Q and I had bolted from the brothel. The faint sound of their celebratory mantra, “FIESTA!” still lingered in my ears.

*******************************************************

We ran as fast as humanly possible to our rental car. CyberD tried to slide across the hood ala Dukes of Hazzard but his sweaty skin stuck to it the moment contact was made. There was no time for me to laugh, though I wanted to really hard. CyberD gathered himself and continued to his side of the car. CyberD turned the key but nothing happened. “Come On!” I screamed. He kept trying but nothing was happening.

By this time the gaggle of people had gathered around us. The two women and the donkey were there as well as CyberD’s barmaid. They told us to get out of the car immediately. Once we were standing, they yelled for one of us to pleasure the donkey. I was in shock and CyberD was extremely toasted. I leaned over to him and said “dude they want you to insert one of your US citizen babies inside of the barmaid”. CyberD immediately took a step forward and yelled, “With pleasure!”

The enforcement officials pulled out their guns and led CyberD to the donkey. He looked at me frantically. I told him that I might have misunderstood and shrugged my shoulders.


*****************************************************

Either the frosty spirits were getting to me or the local militia was leading me away from the kind-hearted barmaid and over to the flea-infested donkey. I could hear Q yell over the crowd, “You’re so lucky, CyberD!” I began to struggle as I feared the worst, but it was to no avail. “You’re next!” I spewed back at him. This surely would have been the end for both of us but little did we know, Q’s court ordered electronic ankle bracelet went off the minute we crossed the border. I had forgotten about that stint Q spent in the pen and was reminded of the time he got that giant tattoo of Jesus on his back while bunking with a tattoo artist named Leopold.

The sound of the chopper came out of nowhere as a sleek black helicopter emerged over the tree line. Q and I both knew that Airwolf had been decommissioned from the military back in the late 80’s. What we didn’t know was that it had since been employed by the local fuzz for just such an occasion. As the bird touched down, it sent the locals scattering in all directions. Q and I ran towards our salvation with one more surprise. As the cockpit opened it was none other than Jan Michael Vincent and Ernest Borgnine at the helm! “My heroes!” Q screamed like a little school girl.

“Get in, boys,” Ernest barked, “We’re going home!” We both dive into the chopper and strap ourselves in as it takes flight, leaving the forlorn donkey behind. I am exhausted from the entire experience and I slump into my seat with relief. Just as I begin to drift off I hear Q blurt out in frustration.

“Damn! I forgot my Mangos!”

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Q's Mango Explosion or CyberD and Q's Birthday Trip to Tijuana!


Q promised me that the border patrol wouldn’t be a problem. If you don’t count the rectal exam I suppose he was telling the truth. They did search the car but luckily we had already taken all those flea infested puppies out of the trunk of the rental and dropped them off at the local Home Depot. They had a half-price sale going on wood-chippers. Nevertheless, my knuckles are white with fear… well, either fear or the lack of blood supply to my extremities from having Q’s head in my lap all the way from Los Angeles down Highway 5. Hearing the mariachi music out the window after crossing the border into Tijuana, Q pops his head up and screams at the top of his lungs, “Pull over! Mango break!”

I jerk the wheel hard and a storm of gravel and dust fly up from the back bumper as we come to a grinding halt next to a string of road-side vendors. An elderly man, weighing in at no more than 90lbs, hobbled over to the passenger side door with a handful of wooden marionettes. Q either didn’t see him or didn’t care. He swung the car door open wide, colliding with the geriatric merchant, sending him flying into a chicken coop. Feathers plumed into the air like a mushroom cloud over Hiroshima. I glare at Q as I get out of the car and walk over to the fruit stand selling 12 mangoes for one dollar. Q looks at me indignantly and says, “What? It’s my damn birthday! I’ll do what I want to!”

**********************************************************

I purchase 24 mangoes and head back the rental car. As I am walking back to the car I noticed that CyberD had hit an old man when he pulled over for fruit. I turn back to let him know what he had done but he is nowhere to be seen. I ask the shop keep where ‘mi amigo’ went and all I got was a blank stare. So I asked him louder. He pointed down the alley way behind his cart of tropical fruit.

I secure my mangoes in the cooler by getting rid of the empty Dos Equis bottles that CyberD had left. I headed down the dark and foul smelling path. Every once in a while I yell out “CyberD!” but I don’t get a response. I turned to look in one of the windows and there he was at the bar. I mosey in – attempt to get CyberD away from the bar, but he yells at me causing a scene – he then directs the bouncer to me. I quietly walk outside and get my ass kicked by three rather large tattooed gentlemen, while CyberD watched and laughed. Have I mentioned that CyberD is an angry drunk? Well, he is and he was enjoying this way too much.


*********************************************************

As I chat up the young barmaid and down another frosty beverage, I laugh at her jokes uproariously even though I don’t understand a word she says. At that very moment I notice that Q is getting his ass kicked by some thugs. I don’t know what he did to deserve it but it must have been something awful. Something tells me these men don’t like Mango. But perhaps they like that special “party dust” that Q was flashing around town in the San Diego strip clubs. I yell, “Q, show them what you’ve got!” He looks at me strangely through blood soaked eyes and he begins to feverishly unbutton his pants.

This only seems to anger them even more as they begin grabbing bar-stools and shatter them into pieces before picking up the wooden legs. I think fast and dive in front of them while flashing a plastic badge that Q got out of his cracker-jack box no more than thirty minutes ago. Luckily I insisted on keeping it because he was going to throw it out the window. I hate litter. I scream over Q’s tears, “Los Policia, Los Policia!” They drop the stick and turn to run but Q is fast and he chucks several full Dos Equis bottles at them. Q nails each one on the back of the head, knocking them out cold. Eat your heart out Nolan Ryan. I yell at Q for being so wasteful but he is on a roll now. He yells, “How do you like them apples?” as he does a victory dance around the bar that includes thrusting his pelvis into the air and performing what can only be described as an x-rated version of the funky chicken.

I suggest we make a run for it and for the first time in our lives Q agrees with me on something. We begin to exit the bar and head for the car but the barmaid cautions us. She points out the window and we see that our rental car has gotten the attention of the border patrol. The barmaid insists on helping us. I guess I made an impression. It looks like The D has still got it when it counts!

*********************************************************

With my limited Spanish speaking/understanding ability the barmaid says that it will be three thousand US dollars for the both of us. CyberD gladly agrees to her fee and follows her out the back door. I am stunned that he would part with that kind of cash so easily, but hey this is ‘Vacation’D. I hurry to catch up so that I don’t get lost again in the maze of alleyways and drunken street people, or as CyberD calls them ‘living urinals’. We come up to a building with a metal door. The woman knocks three times and a metal hatch opens up. The woman says something very quickly and the door opens. She signals for us to come inside, once again I am hesitant but I proceed anyway.

Once inside I notice a vast array of erotic toys and resin molds of men’s and women’s private parts. I look at CyberD and he looks at me. He starts to speak but I stop him, touching my fingers to his lips. I already knew what he was thinking. “This must be heaven.”

The woman leads us to a back room. She locks the door behind us and turns on the light. We were in a hotel like bedroom. I tap CyberD on the shoulder and tell him that I think the barmaid is a prostitute. He looks back at me and slurs, “Jackpot”.


To Be Continued...

Monday, May 14, 2007

Time to knuckle-down!


Back in April I got reassigned. I was working the west coast and had taken my sweet-ass time in building up towards a pretty heavy travel schedule. The reassignment couldn't have been better timed because right around the time Lil' Higgins was born, I got to plant my ass at work and pretend to diligently prep my new region assignment. So now my time has run out. I've got my first trip mid-next week and I'm going to have to get serious.

See you bloggers later...

sometime...

whenever...

just later.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Is there a shrink in the house?



I had an unfortunate dream last night about Lil' Magnum and a school bully. The weird thing... well there are many weird things, but let me start from the top. First off, Lil' Magnum isn't old enough to go to school and has never been the target of a bully to my knowledge.

I think the source of this dream was when Mrs Cyber told me about her outing yesterday with Lil' Magnum. They went to toddler gymnastics and Lil' M was hit in the face with a hula-hoop by accident. She told me this story right before I went to bed so I guess it got me thinking about all the various encounters my children will be forced to have without me there to protect them.

Back to the dream. In this dream Lil' M is in school but he is still only two and half years old. All the kids are running around having a good time and I'm there talking to his teacher about something. I notice Lil' M running by when this big kid that looked about thirteen years old comes up behind him and whacks him on the back with a baseball bat. Lil' M starts to cry and I run to calm him down. The teacher comes to help and I run over and grab the kid. I start chewing him out like nobodies business, and I come as close to threatening the kid within an inch of his life without actually saying anything that would get me thrown in jail. I then ask the kid how old he is and he says,

"I'm four years old."

It is so startling that I wake up. So what the hell was that about? The only time I ever did something remotely similar was when I caught a teenager trying to kick my wife's cat. He nearly crapped his pants after I got finished with him, but that's a story for another time. I have to say, this dream makes me wonder what I am capable of and if I have it in me to just snap if I believed my child's well-being was in danger.

Not a fun dream all the way around.

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Taking Care of Business - Part 1

I was on the phone with Dagromm last week and we were talking about work. I shared a little secret of mine that I have been using for years and (like many other occasions) he declared me a genius. He said that it's those type of things that they should be teaching in school and not all the math.

It got me thinking about all the different work-lessons we teach ourselves. The type of stuff that they don't tell you in the classroom. I'd like to humbly submit this little nugget of wisdom as one of a series that I plan to share. Call it a multi-part lesson in how to get ahead while doing nothing.

It's sort of a guide to maximizing your earning power while minimizing any actual work you do for a living. For me it typifies that goal of working to live and not living to work. I like to call this one:

- I love the smell of email in the morning -



As a parent to Lil' Magnum and Lil' Higgins my wife and I are often up in the early hours of the morning. Consequently, I tend to go ahead and leave for work ASAP. Whatever your reason for being at the office at the butt-crack of dawn, it's always important that people know how committed you are to your work. Never mind the fact that from 6:30am to 9:00am I'm catching up on all my favorite TV shows on-line. No, the important issue is that your boss and coworkers know how committed you are to having you ass planted at the office.

Now if you're lucky enough to be a non-except paid employee than you don't have to worry about this, because your time-card will tell the whole story. But if you are a salaried employee than you don't earn the benefits of overtime. It's great when you want to go sneak out for an extra long lunch and see Spider-Man 3, but it sucks when you are either working early or working late.

That brings us to the strategy:

I want to make sure as many people know that I'm working early (or late) so I send out emails. Perhaps it's a response you've been meaning to give a co-worker. Maybe it's an update on a project for your boss. Or even if it is the generic FYI to anyone and everyone, send it now! There's no guarantee, but I think there is a better than even chance people notice what time the email got sent. I know that one can program an email to be sent on delay but be wary of such attempts. You never know when the boss might actually be in the office early and discovers your little ruse. No, the best bet is to send the emails when you are actually in the office. Don't worry about actually working. Surf the net, download some music, or in my case - watch some TV! The best part about it is no commercials!

Monday, May 07, 2007

Friday Challenge Remix

There's no pleasing some people. I got off the phone with Dagromm this weekend and he just couldn't accept the fact that Will Ferrell in full on soccer regalia suited him perfectly!

"How come everyone else got a 'bad-ass' photo and I get Will Ferrell?"

"What's up with Will Ferrell?"

"But why Will Ferrell!?!?"

...and on, and on, and on...

I never heard the end of it. Well it just so happens that I did make a mistake in my Quad photo challenge, because I failed to include the illustrious Pokiman. He may have come late to blog-country, but he is not to be forgotten. Therefore, I've included a great depiction of everyone's favorite B-horror-movie-loving, prom-attending, bookstore-working, blogger.

Pokiman


Oh yeah, and a picture to represent Dagromm's soccer loving ways. Will you please stop calling now, Dags?

Dagromm Remix


But I still like this better...

Really Dagromm

Friday, May 04, 2007

Friday Challenge

This is another great idea from the mind of Gyuss. I don't think I've got the kind of relationship with any other blogger where I would feel comfortable taking a crack at a perceived image... so I'll just roast The Quad!

Here's one possible vantage of how we see each other.

The Q


Gyuss


Dagromm


Me (of course)

Thursday, May 03, 2007

You Might Feel A Little Pressure


I did my job. I made my contribution to society. I repopulated the earth with little cyber-tots and now it's time to look towards my own future. A wise man once said that one should never eat steak with cling-wrap around your tongue and I agree with him whole heartedly. But my marriage, my mental-health, and my mutual funds can NOT handle any more cyber-offspring... at least not any that I will acknowledge without DNA testing!

So the time is rapidly approaching where I will make that long slow march to the doctor's office so that he can... disengage the electronic fuel injection... so to speak. We haven't settled on a date yet but it's only a matter of time now. I've made my peace with it. I've consulted others who took the plunge. They didn't claim to have a problem with it. Nevertheless, nothing tightens the sphincter more than the concept of someone assaulting your naughty-bits with a scalpel. You go your whole life avoiding damage to your "commander-in-chief" and now you're expected to just flop it out onto some cold, harsh, linoleum table for some quack doctor to hack it off with a skill saw!!

Holy Christ on a crutch!!! What the hell is wrong with you people? Talk about crushing a man's will to live!!!!

I need a drink.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

The Mind of Man

I was chillin' at home last weekend with the wife and kids. After the little ones had been tucked in for a good nights rest this conversation followed:

Mrs Cyber: I'd like to talk to you about what my women's bible study group discussed this week, CyberD.

Me: Sure, sugar. Lay it on me.

Mrs Cyber: Our study leader was reading about the differences between husbands and wives and how men are constantly being stimulated visually. This book said that men have a "visual rolodex" of sexy images playing in their head all day long. Is this true?

*Long Pause*

Me: Could you repeat the question?

Mrs Cyber: It says that men are always picturing an image of a sexy woman in their heads. Perhaps you remember seeing a pretty girl walking down the street or, heard a sexy voice on the radio or admired the nice outfit your administrative assistant wore that week...


Me: Or a favorite hot celebrity from television or film!

Mrs Cyber: Right! Wait a minute...

Me: Never mind that. Why would we have those images playing in our heads?

Mrs Cyber: I don't know I thought you would tell me.

Me: Well, sugar-plum. I can't really speak for other men but I have no idea what your bible study leader is talking about. I mean, how would I get anything done if I was constantly thinking about sexy women all day long?

Mrs Cyber: So you're telling me that you don't have images of pretty girls floating around in your head.

Me: Well, of course we are all bombarded by sexual imagery all day long, be it movies, television, magazine ads, or even the choice of clothes a co-worker wears. But how would I get any work done if I was allowing those images to rattle around in my brain? I mean, what benefit does that serve me? I spend all day pouring over spreadsheets, analyzing data, making calls to prospects, and having very detailed conversations about ongoing projects. I'm not sure I'd be very good at my job if I allowed some woman in a nice skirt to distract me.

Mrs Cyber: Well that's good to hear because I was starting to get really insecure after bible study.

Me: STARTING to get insecure?

Mrs Cyber: What?

Me: Never mind.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Lovingly for Gyuss and Q


I was chatting with Q on the phone the other day and he revealed to me that he has a full length mirror on his bathroom door. This in and of itself is not a problem and I thought little of it. But then Q went on to confess that his biggest regret in life was strategically placing the mirror so that he can view himself in all his glory while doing the most unholy of acts on the crapper. This disturbed me greatly and I did not believe him at first.

Why in the name of all that is sweet and clean on this precious earth would anyone want to watch themselves in that most disgusting state? Q admitted that it was an innocent mistake and one he didn't realize he was making at the time. However there is still that lingering question in my mind as to why he never rectified the situation.

Picture this:

You finish a tasty meal of Beef Wellington and frito-chili-pie and decide that a delicious meal like this isn't complete until you've really made room for it in your lower intestines. You push away from the chair and head down the hall towards the "throne-room." As you prepare for the "slow burn" you grab a copy of the latest Texas Monthly and flip to the classifieds for a little light reading. At first you're engrossed in the delicate writing of Don Gaylord's article on Bluebonnets but inevitably nature demands your undivided attention. Your face turns serious and your toes curl as you grip the towel rack and marshal all you energy towards the singular event that occupies your every thought.

And it's in that moment of clenched anguish that you look up and lock eyes with your own reflection in the most gruesome, jaw-dropping, and horror-filled sight you have ever had the displeasure of seeing your own body performing.

That would quite literally shock the shit out of me. Perhaps that is the real reason why Q has never taken down that offense of a mirror.

*shudder*