One Last Question

Web Ninja was having a bad day. He was trying to work on a project. He kept running into questions, and having to call me.

Fierce!

Respected!

Addicted to catnip!

That meant that I was having an interesting day, also. Every half-hour or so my phone would ring. It wasn't a big deal, but it was getting kinda predictable.

Mid-afternoon, the phone rang again. I made a mark on my tally sheet... 61 calls so far. Then I picked up the phone.

"I promise this is the last question I'm going to have today."

I nodded and wrote down the time.

Later, my phone rang again. I looked at the clock. It had been exactly 30 minutes since the last call. I grinned and picked up the phone.

"Since I know that you don't have any more questions, I have to assume that you're calling to compliment me."

There was a stuttering sound on the other end of the phone. "Uh... you rock?"

"Excellent," I responded. "Your offering has been deemed acceptable." I hung up.

I think I may try calling Web Ninja every half hour or so today. It sounds fun. :)

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On A Hot Day

Fun Things To Do In The Excessive Heat

1) Fantasize about Scruffy in a dunk tank.

2) Watch all your outdoor possessions slowly melt.

3) Watch speeding highway drivers swerve to avoid fresh patches of disintegrating asphalt.

4) Roast marshmallows in the flames that spontaneously erupt in what's left of your yard.

5) Develop a protective layer of scorched blackened crispy smoking calluses on the bottom of your feet by walking on the pavement.

6) Make a healthy snack out of the birdseed that's started popping like popcorn.

7) Sun's furious rays are ideal for working on your Melanoma.

8) Engage in brain-strengthening thought exercises, like tying to remember what clouds look like.


As you can see, I don't *quite* have a top ten here. Help me out! What's the best thing about prolonged triple digit heat? It can't all be bad!

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My Ninja Died

Nearly a year ago, my wife bought some super stretchy slightly sticky ninjas. I gave some away and kept one for a desk decoration.



Mine was blue, and he hung from my cubical wall on a thumbtack. He kept me safe from danger. He helped me file my tax returns. He baked cookies, and sang to me during my lunch breaks. He swore like a sailor.



Last week, I looked up and saw my ninja was broken! I guess his poor little stretchy arms just couldn't bear the weight.

I have no idea how long he'd been hanging there like that, but I suspect he wasn't going to last much longer.

Poor guy.

I want to give him a proper burial, but I fear the retribution of his clan.

Somewhere, hidden stretchy ninjas watch me, and wait for me to disgrace their fallen brother.

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Minor Celeb Sighting: OSU Women's Basketball

My wife and I went out to dinner over the weekend. At the next table over, we saw Kurt Budke, coach of the Oklahoma State University Woman's Basketball team.

It was clearly him, not a look-alike. He had his wife and kids, plus his parents (or his in-laws). They brought their own monogram'ed orange Pistol Pete napkins. He was wearing OSU apparel, and the waitresses happily curtsied and called him, "Lord Budke".

We were impressed. As you all know, OSU Women's Basketball is the soul of my brief and otherwise dark existence. We went over to his table and introduced ourselves.

"I don't know who you're talking about," he claimed. There was a place card in front of him that said, "K. Budke". "That's not me," he said, unconvincingly. "We're squatters."

"C'mon, I just want an autograph." I was desperate. "I'll give you a quarter."

"Sorry, but my right hand is broken and immobile."

I looked down. He was dribbling a basketball under the table. "That's not *my* hand," he insisted.

Eventually we gave up. Later when he put his credit card down to pay, I leaned over and pointed. The name on the card was T. Boone Pickens.

"It's my maiden name," he said.

I finally got the lady two tables over to sign my napkin. I wanted an autograph, and by golly I got one!

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Funny Pics

Some random funny pics from my email archive. Happy Friday!

A biker and his babe


This is what happens when your kids take away your car keys.

When someone steals your Kodak moment











Story of my life



Chewbacca, on a squirrel, fighting Nazis
(Aw yeah!)

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ScrumMaster

So, I got this thing in the mail inviting me to a ScrumMaster workshop. ScrumMaster is a real thing in the business world, but you know that doesn't matter to me. I'm not here to advocate the latest business fads trends. I'm here to mock goofy terminology.

First, let's ponder this name, "ScrumMaster". It makes me happy. I'm not sure exactly what he's the master of, but I'd bet he always wears a malicious grin. One fist is always clenched and he never blinks. His briefcase holds a dirty deformed wooden stick and a three-ring binder full of the punctured souls of his enemies. He will, he WILL, rock you.

There's a section in the pamphlet called "Immediate Benefits of Participating in this Workshop". Here's a sample:



A couple of thoughts.

1) "Conduct decomposition". I'm pretty sure that means your project turns to poop. I've seen this happen without the assistance of any Scrum-Whatevers. It's not that hard.

2) "Scrum Alliance". Sounds like a tight-nit clan of freedom fighters. If being a Scrum-Thing includes wielding a sword, I'm all in.

From the Course Outline...



My mom grew up in the country. This vague association with rustic living probably puts me at an advantage over my pathetic ignorant city-dwelling brethren on item b.



"MetaScrum"? "Scrum of Scrums"? Really? How much alcohol was involved in the creation of this ScrumMaster stuff? Why not MacroScrum, Awe-Scrum and The Mighty Scrumoid?

Still, this stuff is just goofy enough to have my interest. And they have a "sensible, cost-saving" whiz-bang, so I actually briefly considered digging deeper to find out what all this nonsense is about.



Whoa. $1,395?

For that price, you can call me Scrum-less.

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Department Lunch

We celebrated some birthdays in our office by having a big department lunch. I love these things... I almost always end up with some good stories from them.

It's been a while since I wrote about these big fellas ... it's not much, but here's a link

Up first in the parade of goodies are "Large" and "In Charge". There was a sharpie over by the paper cups, and Large used it to write his name on his cup. No one else bothered.

I was near the end of the line, so when I grabbed a cup I also grabbed the Sharpie. I wrote "Not Large" on it. Despite the lack of my actual name, there was no problem identifying my cup.

Later, while I was seated, "In Charge" walked by. He's quite a big guy, so it *should* have surprised me when he stomped on the ground and thrust his hand in my face. He even shouted, "AHA!" while grinning wildly. Instead, I was so impassive that I didn't even blink.

"You need to get your reflexes checked," he said. I turned, pretending to just notice him. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

SWoaN nearly fell out of her chair laughing.

But the best... oh my, the BEST... that would be the Genius. He more or less sat on the birthday cake.

Do you remember the Genius? He's worth remembering. Check out his little old lady impression and his bad mind reader gag.

What happened is that the Genius stood near the table that had the sheet cake on it. He turned around and bent over for something. He moved slightly side to side while rummaging for whatever. In the process, he managed to wiggle his hinder against one corner of the cake, destroying it.

His rump was covered in red icing. He had to un-tuck his shirt so he could cover the evidence.

The Genius left the party for a few minutes. Somebody looked around and asked, "Where's the Genius? Is he afraid to show his... face?"

When the Genius returned to the room, we all applauded for him. The shout-outs were glorious.

"Enjoy the butt-cake!"
"No butts about it!"
"Let's make him the butt of all our jokes!"

I can't wait for the next department lunch. :)

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