The TV

Do you know what a tv smells like when it explodes? I do!

Our old CRT (tube) TV popped a gasket or something. There was a high-pitched "Bang!" and the screen went black. This was instantly followed by a loud, fast and steady "Thrum-Thrum-Thrum-Thrum" noise and a thin tendril of smoke.

I was in the recliner with my laptop. Between the power cable (low battery) and the mouse cord I had effectively tied myself to the chair. Being tied down and watching the start of an electrical fire in my living room easily earns a spot in the top 5 of "memories Jeff wishes he could forget".

The smell was kind of a toxic smoky bleach thing that instantly made me light-headed every time I caught a whiff. It took a full day to air out the living room.

Since the old TV died, we didn't want to order a new one online and wait for shipping. Since we wanted to buy local, our choices were pretty much limited to Walmart and Best Buy. And since Best Buy has a policy of taking your old TV and recycling it for you, we loaded up the stink-master (*and* his dead TV! [rim shot]) in the back of my Vibe.

We wound up at Walmart first. And we bought a new TV from there. Honestly, if you couldn't see that little twist coming, then you'll be stunned by what comes next.

It was pouring rain.

We had to load up the new TV in a small hatchback while juggling around a still-smoking tube TV that weighs nearly as much as I do. In the rain. At one point we had three doors *and* the hatchback open while a stockboy and two random onlookers watched me stagger under the weight of the old TV and trip over its dangling power cord.

When we finally got inside the car, the rear-view was blocked and the inside windows were completely fogged over. So were my glasses. "How are we going to get out of here?", my wife asked. "Quickly," I replied, and floored it. I think there was some honking and shouting directed at us, but I couldn't hear them over my own honking and shouting.

Anyone want an old damp smoking stinky TV?

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Hammer Time?

Driving down the road, we saw a guy with a large trailer pulled over in the grass off to the side. It had big metal wheel wells, like in the picture below.



The metal wheel well cover wasn't the most noticeable thing about the spectacle, however. Far more obvious was the fact that both wheels were gone. Not flat... *gone*. The bare axles were in contact with the ground.



Even that wasn't the first thing I noticed, though. The guy swinging a hammer with both hands over his head was really hard to miss.



The guy was swinging a large hammer over his head, and bringing it down on the *top* of the wheel well. Because of traffic, we wound up parked next to him for almost a full minute. He just kept slowly hefting the mallet, then he'd slowly swing and "bonk!". As far as I could tell, he never even dented the top of the wheel well.

I rolled my window down waved to him. "You know, you can't make tires appear with a hammer."

He just waved and went back to work. "Bonk!"

Hey, I'm no mechanic. Maybe he knows something I don't.

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Caffeine Emergency

You might remember, one of my Christmas presents this year was a big honkin' pile of holiday-themed coffee. My prediction at the time was that I'd be drinking holiday-themed coffee well into April. It was nearly true.

A couple of nights ago my wife offered to set up my coffee for me. She opened up one of the remaining packages and set everything up, including the timer on the coffee maker. She doesn't like coffee, but she does like the smell... especially from the holiday flavors.

"Oh, that smells good!," she said. "What flavor is this one?..." There was a pause, followed by a scream.

I was in the living room, so I shouted "What? What's going on?" The answer chilled me to my bones.

"THIS THING IS DECAF!!!"

At this point I was more than a little afraid to go into the kitchen, so I didn't. There was a crashing noise. "Uh..." I ventured. "So your parents gave me a decaf coffee flavor?"

"Two of them!," she shrieked. "The next one I grabbed was decaf too!"

There were more crashing noises, and a tearing sound. Then everything went quiet. My wife walked out of the kitchen, smiling.

"I threw away the decaf," she said happily. "I found one that was normal and used it to fix your coffee." "What did you do with the decaf?," I asked. I was a little afraid of the answer, but my wife just grinned and said "I threw it away."

I went into the kitchen. The coffee maker was all set up like normal. A pair of scissors was in the sink, covered in black specks. I looked in the trash, and saw the two little bags of decaf. They had been violently defaced.

My wife grinned sweetly. "I know you don't like decaf," she said.

God, I love that woman!

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Oil Baron

I get weird stuff in the mail at work sometimes.

This "HelpSTAR" company provides technical training services. I think. Honestly, I skimmed their mailer twice and it was hard to tell. Pro tip: if your customers can't really tell what you're selling, then you're not likely to have many customers.

They sent me a CD along with the mailer.



"You don't have to be an oil baron." Good to know!

Of course, my mind instantly went to the old joke, "You don't have to be crazy to work here..."



'Cause really, if not for the complete lack of experience or knowledge or interest, I'd *totally* be an oil baron. I'd move my corporate headquarters to Dubai, sell all my stock to Dick Cheney and buy Hawaii. You could come visit anytime, as long as you're willing to serve me drinks and not make eye contact.

The next thing that struck me was how much the guy on that CD looks like Boss Hog from the old Dukes of Hazard TV show.



Do you have any idea how hard it is to change the color a suit to white? I hope you appreciate all the hard work that goes into this blog.

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Coupon, Bumper Stickers

My wife found herself in line at Target behind a crazy old lady. She was chatting up the girl at the register, and asking if she could use a coupon.

"I have a 15% off coupon," the lady insisted. Checkout Girl was dubious. "15% off what?" "Everything," said the old lady.

Checkout Girl wasn't convinced. "Can I see the coupon?" "Oh, I don't have it with me," the old lady said. "I live in Claremore and I left it there at home. Can I use it anyway?"

Checkout Girl's eyes said, "You didn't even bother to bring your fictional coupon with you? This is the lamest fraud ever!". Her mouth said, "I think we need to have the coupon here at the time of purchase."

They bickered for a few more minutes before the old lady finally gave up. My wife finally made it to the front of the line with her purchases.

"So," my wife said, "I've got a 12-and-a-half percent coupon at home, can you hook me up?"

It worked. My wife is the best shopper EVER.

---

I think this idea sounded better in my head that it turned out. We'll see.

I was driving behind a car with a bumper sticker that read, "And on the eighth day, God created the Sooners!" It occurred to me that this was the most marketable kind of joke in the world. Simply put another team's name there and sell to a whole different fan base.

"Heck," I thought. "You could put pretty much any noun there."

I decided to see if I was right. Would you buy any of these bumper stickers?

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Chim-Chim, Cha-Roo

I have vertigo. I also have a ladder and a chimney that's got a leak up near the top, so I *knew* I was going to have a bad day.

Climbing the ladder wasn't too bad, although all the squeaky noises from the gutter got me good and terrified well in advance of my roof-walk. Once I was up high enough, I placed one foot on the roof and put a little weight on it.

My foot slid. An excellent way to begin the adventure.

I finally wound myself around into a more-or-less seated position on the roof, staring down at my wife. "You did it!", she shouted. "...mommy...", I whimpered.

I reverse-crab-scooted over to the chimney, which was fun since I kept sliding downward. I couldn't get traction up there for anything.

When I finally got over to the chimney, things got easier. I was able to brace myself and put a tarp up. Now it no longer rains inside the house. Plus, our chimney looks like its wearing a shower cap, which is fun.

The final quandary was how to get down off the roof. I kept sticking a foot out toward the ladder and sliding. My wife asked what she could do to help and I jokingly said, "Stand under me with your arms out."

God bless her, she did it. I had to tell her to back up. "But what if you fall?" "Then let me fall! Help me *after* impact!"

I took a few deep breaths to gather up my courage. Then, our Roof Dove got annoyed and pushed me off.

It was probably his write streaks on the shingles that made things so slippery on me anyway. Dang bird.

Editorial Note: We've got a roof / chimney guy who will come out in the next week or so to fix the leak, so the shower cap isn't permanent. :) We're gonna give him a nice tip if he's able to relocate the dove for us.

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Birthday

Last Saturday my wife and I went to a birthday party for a one-year-old. Everybody all together now, "AWWWWwwwwww....."

We showed up over at P-Ziddy's house and told him our sad tale. We were going to visit my side of the family, but those plans got disrupted. We were going to visit a college friend of my wife (with new baby!), but they went out of town. "You're the only one who really wants us," I told him.

P-Ziddy laughed. "You know Jeff, honestly, it's just sympathy."

"I've always known," I admitted.

Metacow was there, too. He criticized my change to posting on Mon/Wed/Fri, because now my blog has the same schedule as xkcd. "It's stick figure overload."

I guess I can't complain too loudly at being compared to xkcd, even if it *is* just because of body type.

At one point during the party, I overheard one of P-Ziddy's guests loudly announce, "I have teenage girls... my house is full of attitude and paper products!" The statement horrified me so much that I just *had* to include it here.

Of course, there at the center of all the attention was P-Ziddy's little angel. They put her in a high chair and gave her an itty bitty birthday cake to destroy. She mauled it, flung it, slapped it, and then spread icing all over one eye. She started to cry.

It shouldn't have been funny, but then wise-guy Jeff had to speak up. "It looks like she's a pirate with an icing eye-patch."

Metacow jumped in. "Yar! She be a pastry pirate!"

I'm so glad there were people there with actual compassion, otherwise little angel would still have one sugar'ed eye.

P-Ziddy, thanks for inviting us to your little one's birthday party. She's precious. :)

And let this be a lesson to the rest of you... if you get injured near me in a humorous way, you're on your own. Sorry.

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