Leftovers

Rachel Ray, eat your heart out

We went to a church lunch banquet last weekend that was catered by a local Italian place. Pasta, bread, pizza, and so on. It was pretty good.

The church had the right idea too... paper plates and plastic forks and disposable tablecloths. Cleanup was going to be a cinch, with one small snag. There must not be ANY leftovers.

The first time through the line we all got a scoop of pasta and a slice of pizza. Anyone who went through a second time got a softball-sized lump of pasta and four "Oops! They're stuck together tee-hee!" slices of pizza.

The pastor commented toward the end, "Everybody please take some leftovers home with you... slip it in a pocket, enjoy it later." One of the guys we sat with pantomimed sticking a slice of pizza in his pocket.

I washed my hands... I think...

I had no pocket, so I pantomimed pulling something out of the neck of my shirt. "Here," I said, holding out my hand. "I brought home some pasta."

Three people at my table gagged, hard. It was glorious. Then, one of the ladies at the table topped me.

"It gives a whole new meaning to 'Angel Hair' pasta...", she said.

I gagged, hard.

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It's The Simple Things

We will do righteous battle!

Our old buddy Lightyear came by the office last week, ready to pick a fight. He walked right up to OoRah's desk and announced, "I've been listening to your buddy Rush Limbaugh..."

OoRah chuckled and said, "I didn't know he was a personal friend...", but Lightyear was all wound up and didn't even notice.

"... and Rush says the situation is in Egypt is ALL Obama's fault! Now, how can it ALL be Obama's fault?!?"

Dork.

Also, Dork.

OoRah happily took the bait. "It IS all his fault. The previous 8 years, everything was Bush's fault so now it all has to be Obama's fault."

Lightyear paused, momentarily taken aback. "So, the sinking of the Titanic?..."

OoRah didn't even blink. "Yes. The president at the time, it was all his fault. Ever since 'The Buck Stops Here', that's how it works."

There was a brief moment of "You know, I really can't argue that" on Lightyear's face, and then he switched effortlessly into Presidential Trivia mode. "You know, I liked Truman. I also liked what Roosevelt said; 'Speak softly and carry a big stick'."

OoRah, former Marine, grinned big and nodded like a bobble-head. "I like that one, too!"

Now that they'd found common ground, Lightyear migrated all the way over to story-telling mode. "I liked Roosevelt. He kept things simple. Simple!, you know? It's just like when Rassui kidnapped Preticarus, and they asked [???] what he wanted, you know what he said?"

Suddenly, none of us had a clue what Lightyear was talking about. I honestly didn't even catch that third name he threw out there. Lightyear didn't notice the confusion from his audience, so he continued:

"He said, I want Preticarus alive, or I want Rassui dead. See? Simple."

E Z Bake

Uh. Yeah.

Lightyear said his goodbye's and left the office. I turned to OoRah. "I thought Rassui was an animated movie about a rat who cooks."

I have searched the mighty internets and I can't find anything about a "Rassui" or a "Preticarus". Does anybody out there know what Lightyear was talking about?

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LEGO Friday

Some random LEGO stuffs for your Friday.

A Lego Cell Phone. Outstanding! I'd have to go with "Circle, circle, dot, dot" as the ring tone, naturally. :)

LEGO Rings! Nothing says "I love you" like itty bitty LEGO bricks on your fingers.

LEGO Guitar! I wanna see this thing get smashed on stage at the end of the show. :) Bricks everywhere! Whoo-hoo!

LEGO Bobba Fett costume! Too cute for words!

And finally... the world's most useless LEGO machine. You turn it on, and it turns itself off. Kinda reminds me of the dance I do with my alarm clock each morning. :)

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I Made Snowballs In Scruffy's Attic

Lemmie 'splain.

Like most of Oklahoma, we were snowed in for a lot of last week. My region here averages around 9 inches of snow each winter... we had 15 inches in the yard, with 21 inch drifts.

Scruffy called. "My ceiling is leaking! Help!"

Now, I don't know who *you* call first when you have potential roof damage, but I bet it's not me. However, with roads so desperately clobbered, I was the best Scruffy could manage.

I walked the couple of blocks over to his house. He showed me the leaky room. "Do you think it's the roof?" I know just enough about roofs to know that it could be anything from an Ice Dam to a "Whoops, sorry, your roof has turned to tofu and will need to be replaced".

"Can you go up in the attic and find the leak?"

He wasn't exactly asking an expert, but there were no alternatives. Up we went.

We found snow in Scruffy's attic. It had blown in through his roof vent. "Can we get that outta here?", Scruffy asked. "We need to, but how?" Scruffy pondered this. "Walmart sacks and spoons?"

Even now, nearly a week later, I have no response for that.

We eventually opt'ed for a Shop Vac. There was enough snow that we plugged up the Shop Vac and had to resort to grabbing lumps by hand.

While we were working, my cell phone rang. I couldn't resist. I answered and said, "I'm up in a neighbor's attic!"

"Um... why?" I grinned. "They're making out. I'm watchin'."

Scruffy laughed so hard that he put a foot through his ceiling.

Lesson learned: Blizzards in Oklahoma stink, and Jeff is better at roofs than you think. But not by much.

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Blizzard

Oklahomans have no idea how to prepare for a Blizzard.

And honestly, why would we? They don't call this a "100 year blizzard" because it *lasted* 100 years. (Kinda started to feel like it after a while, though)

The snow dropped on Tuesday. We finally made it to the store Saturday. It was quite a spectacle.

In one store there was a refrigerated compartment full of milk with an employee standing in front of it like a bank guard. "We can't sell this milk, there's something wrong with it, we have to send it back."

Despite her warning, the "I want milk" crowd looked like they might charge.

In another store there was a single lonely half-gallon of soy milk, unwanted and unloved. Poor milk.

I saw a display of Red Diamond Iced Tea next to some empty shelves. I was tempted to load up a cart with nothing but the tea gallons and see what kind of reactions I'd get.

We saw a guy with a shopping cart half full of bananas, and half full of bread. He was being chased by some angry shoppers fresh out of the now-empty bread aisle.

We're pretty well dug out now, but I see more snow in the forecast for Wednesday. Should be interesting, but don't worry about us. If another blizzard comes, we'll have enough iced tea to last at least three weeks.

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Quickies

Show Me Your ID

Would you accept a bribe?

My wife went to the store to buy stuff for Tacos. When she got to the register the lady said, "I need to see your ID."

There was a stunned pause. "Uh... why?"

"I don't know," the register lady confessed. "The machine just came up and said I have to see your ID."

"Are these age-restricted taco shells?" The checkout lady stammered, "I... I don't know."

We pulled the blinds when we ate them, just in case.

I'm being REPLACED?!?

Goat

I was talking with Big Dawg about a project at work. I mentioned a code change I was working on.

OoRah interrupted us. "Goat change?", he asked. He had misheard me, and was genuinely confused.

I had no mercy. "Yeah, I'm changing my goat. I'm not happy with the one I've got now."

Splish, splash!

In The Potty

I was in the bathroom the other day, and a guy in the one of the stalls took a phone call.

That just seems so awkward to me. I don't ever wanna be "that guy" who talks on the phone while doing his doo-ty.

"Hi! That splashing noise? Oh, I'm poolside, relaxing. Yeah, and that one was thunder. It's a little overcast here."


Comfortable

I was standing in the middle of the office with OoRah and M16, waiting on the boss to get back. We expected him back any minute, but after about 10 minutes of standing around it became obvious that Murphy's Law was in effect.

I'll open up Solitaire... that should bring him runnin'

"He's waiting. He'll come back when I'm comfortable at my desk."

There was general agreement. I wandered back to my desk saying, "Ha! The joke's on him! He doesn't realize that I'm never comfortable."

OoRah and M16 both chuckled. Later, when I told my wife the story, she didn't.

I admit, the joke was weak. I'm not worried though... You've probably stopped reading by now anyway. :)

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True Grip

Arnold Schwarzenegger hands these things out as party favors

I've been considering getting a pair of Hand Grips. I used to have one, but I lost it long ago.

I hopped online to see what I could find. I was surprised by the number of web pages I found with exercise routines for your hands and forearms.

One in particular really cracked me up. The guy started out his page by saying, "Forearms are the only body parts that matter at all!" "Forearms are the coolest!" "I love my forearms!" This guy had a serious love affair with his dangling pre-fingers. I got a little uncomfortable just reading it. It made me want to pull my sleeves down for modesty's sake.

He was so happy about his forearms that he decided to list off "a couple of exercises" you can do to strengthen them. There were 20 items. I'd hate to see his long list.

This thing seriously frightens me

He also listed off 5 or 6 different hand grip exercise tools. One of them looked like a "normal" hand grip but required 300 pounds pressure per square inch to close it. Yikes! He also had one that looked like a converted bear trap. It was a monstrous U-shaped thing that had tension rods and springs and dials all over it. It looked like the machine that killed Rube Goldberg.

As hilariously obsessive as his list was, one thing did stand out to me. In order to prove the value of forearm strength, he suggested that you take 20 pounds off of your "normal" bench-press bar, and try to lift it without tightly gripping the bar.

I have no bench-press equipment. But, as you might recall, I do have those "Perfect Push-up" rotating handles. Hm...

Help! I'm stuck!

I set up the handles and got into position. I loosened my grip as much as I dared and started the process. One hand slipped, and my wrist made an unhealthy "crack" noise. Of course, it was hard to hear it over the screaming. I lay on the floor for a while and cried.

Later, I tried again. I gripped the handles as hard as I could. Something in my forearms went "squidge". Now my fingers won't uncurl.

Stupid forearms.

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