Weekend Jams

I have to say that a day at home with the boys is getting more and more fun all the time. Mrs. Cyber had to make some deliveries so it was just me and the cast of Magnum P.I. for the first half of our weekend. While mommy is full of educational learning and organized play, I'm all about random chaos! Consequently the house was a complete wreck but you can better believe that you never saw a more fun filled journey that included dinosaurs, Hot Wheels, water guns, and tonka trucks in your entire life!



Later on the family went to our local water park. This would be my oldest son's first time and we had a blast! He ran around the kiddie pool until he was bored out of his mind. Then we hit the spray tower and shot a few teenagers with water rifles. After that we floated around the main pool on a giant raft. To end the day we hit the lazy river that wasn't very lazy. There were points along the way that bottle-necked and made for a very fast moving stream. My son decided that I was a leather-back sea turtle and he was on a Diego adventure! Needless to say we did that about twenty times.



Mrs. Cyber and I ended the weekend with ice cream and a DVD after the kids were in bed. It was nice to have some quiet time with my lady, but we sacrificed sleep and a clean house to do it. All in all I give the weekend two thumbs up!

Taking Care of Business - Part 3

I hate sitting in meetings. What I hate most are meetings that have no purpose. Meetings that exist just so those attending and running the meetings can feel important.

I've got an interesting situation at my office where a co-worker feels compelled to create work around an issue that really is none of her concern. Our supervisor has told us that this issue is being taken care of by another department and that we should focus on our jobs and expect some results on this issue soon. Nevertheless, my co-worker wants results NOW and is dead set on getting everyone involved in our department (accept our supervisor). So she scheduled a meeting. It's never more obvious that this is a pointless meeting. While my presence was not mandatory, it was requested.

Sometimes your pointless meetings ARE mandatory. In today's installment I'm going to talk about a tried and true way you can avoid attending those meetings that amount to nothing. I like to call this:

- The Conflict Solution -



The first order of business is to make sure you are not expected to present, run, or otherwise contribute in any way to the subject matter of the meeting. If this is the case than proceed with the plan, if not, you're screwed... go to the meeting.

Assuming you know you're going to be an innocent bystander to this office "circle-jerk" you can now begin with your plan. Go check your calendar. Let's say you have another meeting (one of consequence), or a series of meetings later in the week. If there is any opportunity to provide input as to the date and time of the pointless meeting, chime in. Suggest to the organizer that your Thursday is wide open. Then when Thursday arrives you can bail for the more important meeting.

Other examples of conflicting schedules include a meeting with your boss or any other boss up the corporate ladder. Call up the Associate Vice-President and see if you can schedule some time. Nobody will fault you for skipping out of a minuscule little staff meeting when the AVP is expecting you!

Finally there is the silver bullet of "get out of jail free" cards - The client meeting/phone-call. If you feel that you would rather jump off a tall building than attend this dumb-ass meeting, then simply bail. Tell them you had to take an important client phone-call. Better yet, leave the office for an hour and go see a client on-site. The bottom line is you don't have to subject yourself to every excruciating little pow-wow that comes up when you know that it will never amount to anything. Your time and sanity is worth far too much. There it is another easy yet fun way of working around stupid people in your office. Much love to you all!

It's all in the strategy

Last week in Finland the annual Wife Carrying World Championship was held. The winning couple received the wife's weight in beer and five times her weight in cash. So what would your strategy be? Would you slim down for the race to increase your chances at victory or would you "swing for the fences" and bulk up in the hopes of taking home that many more pounds in cold hard lovingly beautiful cash... and beer?

clip of the event in action

Who would have thought... A Classic!

Everyone knows I'm a work-out buff. I'm into pumping a little iron every now and then. Mind you, I was a shade more athletic in my youth but I like to think I can keep up even today. I remember back when I was just getting started and those thirty minute weight training shows were all the craze!

My favorite was Flex Appeal... because of the articles!

Anyway, what ever happened to Kiana Tom? I'm not really sure. All I know is that ESPN was a weekday morning staple on my TV until it got moved to ESPN2. Then ESPN2 became a weekday morning staple. Then it disappeared. Today I went back to the gym for the first time since my second child was born in March and I am pleasantly surprised to see none other than Kiana herself greeting me a hearty good morning on ESPN Classic. Finally, a reason to tune-in!

Punch?

This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:

crap x3

dead x2

punch x1

Please bring your seat to an upright position.

Last year I talked about The Stupid, Crazy, and Selfish. Today I'd like to share one such story about the before mentioned "Selfish".

It was a sunny Thursday afternoon and that meant I was leaving SoTex to head back for my home in NoTex on the lovely Southwest Airlines. I had my work notes in hand and was conscientiously reading them in my lap, as I have learned that the pilot is unable to get the plane off of the tarmac if my tray table is down. Now other members of The Quad poke a little fun at ol' Cyber for being "Mr. Corporate Guy". If that is the case than the gentleman sitting to my right made me look like a Casual Friday All-Star. This guy was the whole package: gold cuff-links, Armani suit, and slicked-back-hair. Of course he had his seat leaned back, his tray table down and his wireless laptop burning up the information super-highway!

It's one thing if you're stupid. I can almost abide the stupid. They don't know how they are supposed to play their part in preparing the plane for departure. But this jerk would actually fold down his laptop screen every time an attendant walked by in an attempt to avoid turning it off.

What an A-hole!

Eventually the hard working young air-hostess was forced to confront the man several times. Eventually he did place his seat in the upright position as well as fold up his tray table. But the guy never turned off his damn computer. Can you imagine the nerve? Everyone could tell that the poor girl was getting really annoyed as she kept walking by to gain his compliance. Eventually the pilot had to stop just short of the runway as the crew confronted the big time businessman as a group.

I'm sure the conversation was a heated one and I wish I had been able to hear, but my ipod volume was up pretty loud. Oh well, at least they finally were able to get that selfish pig to turn off all electronic devices.

Celebrity Look Alike

I know that blog-country has been dying to know what I look like in real life. Like Superman, Batman, and other great heroes from history I must maintain my secret identity to protect the lives of those I hold most dear. But I recently came across this little bit of Internets fun. Perhaps this will scratch that itch for those that wonder about the real CyberD. And just so you know I'm not full of crap, I went ahead and threw in one of the more unfaltering of the 12 celebrity matches that came up.

Missing the Boat

Back in the fall of 2002 I wasn't really open to new science fiction television. My favorite show had been canceled and I was pretty jaded to anything that remotely resembled it. As it turns out I missed out on a great series called Firefly. But then again, so did many others because it too was eventually canceled. Of course many might argue that it would fail from the beginning with the way Fox Television handled its release. Between jumbling the episodes out of order, not showing the all important pilot until mid-season, and marketing the gritty drama as an action comedy the series was most assuredly doomed.

It's been almost five years now and I've continued to hear nothing but good things. I've wanted to see it for some time, but just never found it available for rent until I joined the greatness of Blockbuster Online. I ordered the first disc and watched it in the order it was originally intended, including the theatrical conclusion Serenity. I've come to my own conclusion: either I'm an official science fiction sucker or this show is greatness... or both... probably both.

Every episode was full of great character driven story. The large ensemble cast had a tremendous chemistry and at no time did it give the feeling of being too cumbersome. I even managed to enjoy the dramatic cinematic conclusion to the series. Granted, it probably pales in comparison to the unrealized continuation of the program. Personally I feel it was completely satisfying, save for the undeveloped storyline of Shepard Book. They've even left the franchise open to future films. But money talks so I've now joined the ranks of Firefly fans telling you to go out and watch this series. It's definitely a good.

Greater than the sum of the parts... and the parts are pretty damn good.

Everyone should have friends like these. Quad weekend 2007 was an event to remember. Even Pokiman came up for the festivities and it wouldn't have been the same without him. Each of us brings a unique aspect to the group that is sadly missing when one of us isn't there. How is it possible for five guys, who collectively see each other once a year, to get together and pick up where we left off without skipping a beat?

It really is like slipping back in time to a place where life was much simpler, important things had no meaning, and meaningless things were of paramount importance. I haven't laughed like that in... well... a year! I'll be the first to admit that the weekend was filled with all manner of sophomoric humor, but it is the familiarity with which we deliver our punch lines, react to each other's jokes, and drift on to the next one-liner that is so appealing. I seriously think there were a couple of times that we hardly had to say a word... a simple glance would suffice and we were all falling out of our chairs.

Some may ask if it was anything more than just one big time-waste. I'll tell you that it wouldn't have been the same if it was anything else. Lord knows this isn't Oprah's book club. What I find so fascinating is how our interests continue to mirror each other, even when so many years have passed by. Did we become friends way back then because we were of such similar spirit, or did the friendship of our youth help to mold us into the people we are today? Perhaps it is a little bit of both.

I thought about coming up with a great piece of comedy to capture the essence of this weekend with my friends, but I don't think it would have done justice to how important these guys are to me. So I'll take a moment and risk being serious to simply say that I had a blast with Dagromm, Gyuss, Pokiman, and Q. It was nothing but pure undiluted fun to be together again.

Thanks to Dagromm for hosting the event, to Gyuss for shelling out mad-cash in order to travel great distances, to Pokiman for freeing up his usual weekend work obligations, and to Q for showing up with clothes on.

See you next summer for Quad weekend 2008!

Manly Men doing Manly Things

While The Quad is many things, we aren't everything. I cannot deny the fact that we are strong, handsome, powerful, and potent... but we are NOT mechanics. This little trip down memory lane takes us all the way back to the turn of the millennium.

It was the summer of 2000 and it had been a few years since Gyuss had moved away. Dagromm and I had already begun our love affair with Q and the three of us were sitting around Ye Old Shop that Dagromm managed. This particular afternoon Dagromm was complaining about car trouble... a fairly common complaint for him in those days.

That day it was decided that an alternator for a 1995 Pontiac Grand Am should be easy to fix. So we later met at the Auto Zone, Dags purchased an alternator, and we struck out for the broken down vehicle. It was parked in a small town at a busy gas station of truckers and the like. Gyuss even called in to participate via cell phone. As we walked across the glistening asphalt in the scorching Texas heat you could have set our stride to the music of George Baker's Little Green Bag.

We arrived at the front of the Pontiac just as a wind whipped up and sent our flowing locks swirling across our face. I planted my foot on the front bumper, striking a pose, while Q thrust his fist down on the hood, popping it open. Dagromm, in turn brandished his wrench high over head as he slammed the new alternator down on top of the engine block. We were ready to commence with auto repair!

At first things rolled pretty damn well. We found the location of the old alternator in mere seconds and managed to unhook a belt that obstructed our access to it. It wasn't long before we removed the defunct part and replaced it with the new one. This was the home stretch and it looked as if we get out of there in under an hour. That's when we realized that we had no freaking clue how to put the belt back on. It had so much tension when attached that there was no way one could simply force it... but we tried. After another hour of massive grunting, muscle ache, and buckets of perspiration we were no closer to our objective.

Q took a frustrated step back, lifted his hands into the sky and cursed the gods of car-repair. Dagromm hung his head in shame as tears streamed down his face and I (in spite of my stoic appearance) feared all was lost. It was at this point that Gyuss' call conveniently dropped. Just then, in a moment of clarity my gaze landed upon a gangly trucker about to climb into his rig and leave the gas station for the open road. I quickly flagged down the salty highwayman and requested his assistance. This was our last chance of being able to say we achieved the impossible. He approached the car and pointed out what we already knew - that there was a tension rod underneath the manifold. It was the very thing we had been struggling to manipulate for the last hour. Little did we know, you needed to be a contortionist in order to do this successfully. Luckily this trucker had spent three years with The Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus. He cranked down on the rod and we were back in business.

Victory at last! Q did a celebratory dance that he learned from a Native American witch doctor during his peyote phase, while Dagromm and I tested out the new alternator. As the engine turned over and hummed with glee, a chorus of angels began singing the opening to Carl Orff's Carmina Burana! It was truly a magical moment and we drove off into the sunset.

Everybody Loves Lists!

In my last post a question was recently asked regarding what (if any) movie franchises should be considered "great" from start to finish. As I am a shameful lover of lists, I am taking it upon myself to provide the definitive answer to this question.

First off: I think it needs to be pointed out that very few franchises achieve greatness throughout the entirety of its volumes. For example, the first two Superman movies are greatness but the other sequels make the overall franchise a dud. The same goes for the Batman, X-Men, Die Hard, and The Matrix films... especially The Matrix. The first was genius, the rest were garbage. I think Spiderman was close to achieving greatness but the last film was just a disappointment.

I think the one caveat to this rule is if a franchise has a huge gap in time between productions. The newly imagined Batman franchise can stand alone and has a new opportunity to achieve greatness since the latest film rocked. Additionally, if you apply the same rule to the Star Wars franchise, the first three films qualify for the cinematic trilogy hall of fame. Finally, I think attention must be given to continuity. Nothing is more annoying than when plot continuity is ignored or casting changes are made willy-nilly! While it is no ones fault that Dumbledore had to be re-cast, it only hurts the Harry Potter franchise's chance at greatness.

My Top 5 in order from good to great...

5) The Bill and Ted Trilogy Anthology

4) A Fistfull of Dollars - A Few Dollars More - The Good The Bad, and The Ugly

3) Indiana Jones Trilogy

2) Star Wars Episodes 4-6

1) Lord of the Rings Trilogy

Please feel free to include your favorite two-parters, trilogies, septologies, and the like in comments.

Pirates 3 Review - Spoiler Alert

I finally saw the third Pirates of the Caribbean movie last week and I have to say... It was fantastic! I loved it! The pace is quick the story-telling is sharp, and the twists and turns are pleasantly unexpected. Jeffrey Rush has a flare for the humorous while remaining menacing. Johnny Depp continues to delight in a role that has great risk of becoming trite and repetitive after three films. And Chow Yun-Fat injects a new element of vile danger without making the cast feel bloated. The filming is dark, as is the script, costumes, and overall tone of the story, but this is to be expected. After the conclusion of Pirates 2, I think all fans knew it was going down this road.



Some of the high-points for me include a magnificent opening fight sequence in Singapore, a surreal and creepy depiction of Davey Jones' Locker, the duplicitous double-crossing of various characters, and a visually stimulating portrayal of the Pirate Lords that range from Chinese thugs to French bandits to Arabian thieves. And I have to say I'm not too disappointed in the somewhat predictable ending for Will Turner and Elizabeth Swan.

Now for some criticism.

My biggest problem with the film was the introduction and use of the Calypso character. Supposedly Pirates 2 and 3 were written simultaneously and if this is the case, why does the introduction of the Sea Goddess feel so random? Could her role in the overall story not have been worked more smoothly into the fabric of the overall mythos? Additionally, I am still perplexed why Captain Soa Feng (Chow Yun-Fat) mistakes Elizabeth Swan for the human form of Calypso and how Captain Barbossa (Rush) appears to know better from the very start.



Of course the Sea Goddess' role in the films is given more weight as you learn why she was forced to bring Barbossa back from the dead, but if both Barbossa and Sparrow each hold a position as one of the nine Pirate Lords... why was one serving the other on The Black Pearl prior to the first film?

In addition to plot problems such as these, I find it boardering on retarded the way the action in this series goes from the (larger-than-life) theatrical to the ridiculous (ala Matrix/Charlie's Angels)! I know... I know... I can suspend my disbelief for the walking dead and supernatural monsters, but I cannot allow my brain to believe that mere humans can swoop from the masts of various different pirate ships all within the swirling winds of a hurricane!

It is also perplexing to me why the giant sea-battle we expect at the end comes down to the Black Pearl and the Flying Dutchman fighting it out over a maelstrom. Then both ships turn on the British flag-ship blowing it to smithereens, Die Hard style. Apparently this is enough to take the "wind out of the sales" of the entire British Armada and sends them packing!



Finally I understand that Turner and Swan needed to get married for the ending of the movie to work, but I am stupefied as to why it needed to be in the middle of a sea-battle. It just felt silly.

So in conclusion, as you can see, I feel this movie really sucked. I mean... badly! I hated it.

Our Essence

There has been some recent discussion on the qualities that define what it means to be "Quad-like". In an effort to provide the people with an answer to the essence of this seemingly indefinable group, I submit to you all the evidence you will ever need.




As defined by the Smithsonian Museum of Man History:

Taking Care of Business - Part 2

In this second installment on the keys to living well and working less I bring forth one of my very old tricks. This is an easy one folks and it's an all time classic. Many of us do it without even realizing it. But if it's news to you, then get out your pad and pencil because it's a beauty. I like to call this one:

- Making a Lunch Break Out of Your Lunch Break -



How often do we put in that overtime? Have you ever had to work through lunch? Have you ever needed that all important mid-day break to run very important personal errands like going to the bank, the doctor's office, or the strip club?

Sometimes 60 minutes just isn't enough time and what if you have an overbearing boss or nosy co-worker that enjoys keeping tabs on you? Here's the trick... it's so easy you'll be kicking yourself for not doing it sooner.

1) Make it clear to said-nosy-ass-person that you'll be taking a late lunch today.

2) Make sure the offending nosy-ass person has JUST left for lunch themselves, preferably around noon.

3) Leave immediately after them and don't come back until 2pm.

When you return the assumption here is that you left around 1pm. And there you have it. You just made a two-hour lunch break look like one and today you had enough time to go by the bank, browse Best Buy, AND grab that gordito burrito from Chipotle!

I'll give you a head start!

My office is pretty competitive. There are seven people that hold positions like mine and we all do basically the same thing, making it fairly easy to compare, contrast, and "race" each other in our progress towards our individual goals. We are also all new, making it all the more easy to gauge each other equally in terms of progress.

So I was thinking about this little fact as I was driving into work this morning. You see I had an especially challenging weekend, as my wife is getting her home business up and running again, having taken a hiatus for the birth of Lil' Higgins. This was my second weekend where I have basically been on my own with "the boys." Let me tell you, when they are about six and eight years old, it's going to be great to take them to football games, movies, camping, etc. etc. But a two year old and a newborn are hard-ass work. That's not to say that older kids are easier but at least my back will not be breaking in half from carting Lil' Higgins in my arms all morning and giving horse-back rides to Lil' Magnum all afternoon.

I digress... (I do that allot)

Long story - short: I felt like the walking dead last night and I feel just terrible this morning. I'm thinking about this driving into work because most of my co-workers don't have children and none of them have children under the age of four. I couldn't help but be a little envious of all the rest they must have had this weekend, the feeling of being refreshed heading into the office, of getting their week started with a bang - like a race horse right out of the gate! Meanwhile, I'm still getting my saddle on and my jockey is busy puking in the bathroom, attempting to make the weight limit.

God help me I'm tired.

Friendship

I have to admit that I knew it was only a matter of time for Dags, Q, and Gyuss to see the error of their ways. My agent told me that the phone had been ringing non-stop all week. To be honest I probably would have rejected the gesture if it wasn't for the gift basket of assorted cold-cuts. That was a nice touch. I digress. The upshot of this entire thing is that The Quad just isn't The Quad without me and they humbly asked me to re-take my rightful place in the group. I know we've had our differences but we are putting the past behind us (even though they started it).

Just to make sure there were no hard feelings I checked in with The Rock. Little did The Quad know, but we have each other on speed-dial. All he said was to "watch out for the jello, and that he was moving to Singapore just to get some distance." I'm not sure what that means but I know I'll find out soon enough.

Now... as a tribute I'd like to share one of my most favorite songs from those rock-ballad-all-stars... Tenacious D.



"Oh Happy Day!"

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!

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.

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.

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!

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.

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!

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.

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!

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!”

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!”

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...

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.

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.

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!

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 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)

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.

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.

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*