As Vinny C's It

My Brain Can't Ever Be Left Unsupervised.

2013-06-17T15:56:00.000-04:00

Sunday morning I was lying in bed, trying to force myself to go back to sleep, I hate getting up too early on a weekend and since I had no intention of getting up before at least Monday I decided I’d just lie there until sleep came back.

That has to work sometimes right?

Anyway, I was lying there and I decided to let my brain go on ahead and do whatever it wanted without me in the hope that it would be too distracted to notice when sleep crept back in. I tried not to focus on any kind of actual thought so it would get all excited and start thinking. Brains are like that. They always want to think at inappropriate times like when you’re trying to go to sleep. But it was during this time of letting my brain get distracted with all kinds of random thoughts, that this thought in particular suddenly happened.

“I bet I could totally kill a chicken!”

Yeah...

With that, my brain had something to latch on to and all hopes of sleep were gone.

Before you start wondering, there was an actal train of thought that led me to this statement. It’s not like I lie awake, thinking of who or what I’d be able to kill.

Beat up, maybe, but not kill.

Of course, even I had to retrace my brain’s steps to figure out where this thought in particular came from, since I wasn’t really paying attention to what it was doing. When I was able to get to the original thought that set this train in motion, it all made perfect sense.

“It’s all the internet’s fault I don’t get enough sleep.”

See? That makes things a whole lot clearer now, doesn’t it? If you’re not following (and I don’t see how you couldn’t be) I’ll break it down for you. It’s like this:

To date, the internet as we all know, is one of the greatest advances in technology known to man. I dare say it ranks right up there with double-sided tape and the Japanese Butter Stick.

The internet is also the greatest distraction known to man. One of my lecturers even said that the internet is also guilty of diminishing the attention span of today’s society. At least, I think that’s what he said. The dude was going on and on and I was starting to get bored. He really needs to learn how to take his rants down to 140 characters or less.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. Chickens!

See, with the internet being the distraction it is, I more often than not, find myself choosing stay awake just a little bit longer so I can keep up with all the fun distractions the worldwide web has to offer. When I end up exhausted as a result, I sometimes wonder what the world would be like, not just without it, but without all the other newfangled doodads we have and the entire way of life to which we’ve grown accustomed.

I'd imagine there was some kind of apocalyptic event which would basically send us all back to the stone-age, technology wise. There’d be no more smartphones, or television, or any other of the modern conveniences and we didn’t have a choice but to actually “go outside” and “do things”. Of course, there’d be no fast food restaurants or convenience stores either, so finding food would require actually finding your own food... and possibly killing it and cooking it all on your own too.

This is where the chickens would come in. I figured at least a few of them would probably survive the apocalypse and unless there was some kind of radioactive mutation issue and chickens became vicious, man-eating beasts, I think those would be easy enough to take on.

Or not...

Of course, I went on to formulating the proper technique for getting the job done with minimal blood spatter and creepy headless panicked bird running around. Then I thought about what the best way would be to get all the feathers off. I wasn’t sure, but figure I’d better look that up before the apocalypse took Google away.

That's how I came to the conclusion that I totally could do if I had to. I just need the circumstances to be just right for me to rise to the occassion.

A Different World Than Where You Come From.

2013-06-06T13:41:00.003-04:00

Earlier this week my boss, the Big Man put two of a three-man work crew on a two-day suspension. They're all fairly new to the company and have had problems getting along and focusing on their job. This led to a lot of infighting and dirty laundry being aired. It didn't help that there was also a teeny problem with the misuse of company equipment.

It wasn't pretty.

As a result, the third guy, who I'll call Footinmouth, was left with nothing to do but sit in the office for those two days and await further instructions. None came. Needless to say, Footinmouth got bored. REALLY BORED. Why I call him Footinmouth is because he often speaks his mind, but unfortunately, it often appears that his mouth is running on empty when he does.

Source

Added to this, the guy has zero impulse control. Recently, he was waiting at the office for his other crew members to get in so they could head off and do thing. Since I’m normally at work by myself most of the time it was just the two of us. While he was waiting, a female staff member (one he’d never met before) came in to the office to drop off her crew’s timecards. This staff member in particular is a young, attractive Jamaican girl who... let’s just say is very amply proportioned. When not in uniform, her dress code is normally too tight and too short. This was her off day, so she wasn’t in uniform...

Have you ever seen a train wreck situation about to happen, but knew you couldn’t stop it, so all you could do was watch the horror take place. Not only did she have to drop cards off, but she said she needed to collect more timecards for her crew. I didn’t have enough for everyone at her worksite, so I had to print a few more up. That meant she had to sit and wait... in her jeans that were about two sizes too small and a vest that barely covered anything... next to Footinmouth.

Yeah...

Dispite my telling him (repeatedly) to behave, he didn't waste any time in making his move. He started off by telling her (repeatedly) how “damn fine” he thought she was, which she ignored as politely as she could. And, for some reason, which I’ll never understand, he thought he could get away with asking what model smart phone she had so he’d have an excuse to "casually" reach for it to get a closer look. Conveniently, it was resting on her lap, in the vicinity of her crotch. She wasn’t naïve, though and spotted his play. That’s when she let her phone “accidentally” slide off her lap and onto the floor. By the time she picked it up I'd finished printing more cards, which she collected and she left.

I told my supervisor to be ready for when she lodges her sexual harassment claim.

Anyway, as I was saying earlier, Footinmouth was stuck with me for those two days with nothing to do. The Big Man didn’t really have anything for him so he spent most of his time sleeping in the training room. I didn’t really care as long as he kept out of my way. I even felt sorry for him and let him use my computer while I was on lunch (and hoped, he stayed off porn sites). Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever and on the second day he decided he’d pass the time talking to me.

I blame it on my act of kindness. It won't happen again.

For fun, I’ll leave the conversation in Trini dialect. Don’t worry, I’ll translate (in red) where necessary.

FIM: So how long yuh (you) married?

Me: Almost ten years.

FIM: WAAAAYYY !!! (WOW!!!) Yuh ever horn she? (Have you ever cheated on her?)

This always seems to be one of the first questions I get asked when I talk with some people about my being married.

Me: Nope. Not in the seventeen years we’ve been together.

FIM: NAH!!! (NO WAY!!!) Not even once?

Me: Not even once.

FIM: But I sure real gyals does be tracking yuh! (I’m sure a lot of girls flirt with/express their interest in you.)

Why thank you. I'm flattered. That’s very kind of you to say.

Me: Not that I know of. At least, not in a long time (It's hard to get flirted with when you never go anywhere or do anything).

FIM: What about all them gyals who does be tracking yuh on Facebook?

Me: Nice try, but you’ve never seen me on Facebook (I’m nothing if not discreet with my web habits at work when people are around).

FIM: Yeah? When I was on de computer, I saw ah Facebook message from a gyal.

Me: Well, 1 - That’s email spam and, 2 - that’s the company email, not mine. It’s the Big Man’s Facebook account that’s linked to it.

FIM: Alright, "Mr. Innocent". Allyuh so (Your kind) could never do anything wrong.

I think I detected a hint of sarcasm there.

Me: I never said I never did anything wrong, just never cheated on my wife.

I don't think he ever really believed me. I should mention that Footinmouth has a child and a girlfriend (who he complained to me about during our conversation). Of course, his earlier exchange with that female coworker should not come as a shock, given our conversation. His opinion of women are similar to a commenter a blogging buddy of mine, Jules of According to Jules, had to deal with recently.

There’s an old Trinidad & Tobago Carnival classic from 1982 called “Deputy Essential” that declares that having an “other woman” on the side is a must for every male. A lot of men ascribe to that belief and Footinmouth is one of them. He can’t fathom the idea of being with only one person.

Source

I, on the other hand, don’t share that sentiment. While I didn't grow up in some upper class, well-to-do family, my parents raised me and my two younger sisters to a certain standard (which mostly took). I’m not a prude and I don’t look down on them, even if I don’t agree with their point of view when it comes to relationships.

However, that doesn’t work the other way around. Guys like Footinmouth think other guys are lying when they say they stick to that one woman and never play the field. Even Footinmouth’s supervisor, a guy about 10 years older than I am, told me he could never see himself getting married, even though he’s been in a long-term, common-law relationship for years. He said he feels like he needs to have an escape route if things went south with the mother of his children.

I... don’t get it.

All-in-all, though, I guess it’s just a matter of guys like them and guys like me being from two different worlds.

I Made You A Gif.

2013-06-01T16:11:00.003-04:00

This is my first ever attempt at a moving cartoon. Just a simple gif, but I thought I'd start with that.

The inspiration came from my job at TinyCo (as you can probably guess). It's basically how I spend most of my day there after my the boss's daily chewing out session.

By the way, did you know GIF is really supposed to be pronounced JIF? The creator of the format said so the other day.

The more you know...

Oh and if you're in the mood for something more, feel free to go to my post from yesterday on Sprocket Ink. It's about how far one guy in Japan went to protect his porno habit. It's funny (if I do say so myself) and there's a picture Japanese bikini model in it. What more could you ask for?

Am I The Only One...

2013-05-30T09:00:00.000-04:00

Who sees this...

And thinks THIS?

Tell me it's not just me!

Of Men, Women & Man-Colds

2013-05-28T15:54:00.000-04:00

Most of you have heard of the dreaded “man-cold”. For those who aren't familiar with the term, it's basically how people describe the way a man acts when he's sick. If you believe all the comedy spoofs and commercials, men are supposed become big, whimpering babies, who needs to be coddled until full health is restored.

By contrast when describing the dreaded “man-cold”, women are traditionally shown as the ones shaking their heads and pitying their helpless man-babies as they wallow in their pain and suffering. Also by contrast, when they get sick, women are depicted as the ones who soldier on through their symptoms and come out of it with their dignities intact.

In the C household, however, we're the exception to the “man-cold” rule. I am not one of those guys. Sure, I get sick from time-to-time and, sure, I even complain some (like the time I posted an ad trying to sell my respiratory system when I was sick a few years back). But that's it. I don't whimper, I don't beg to be cradled and cared-for until the aches and pains stop. Nope! Not me. I look that cold straight in the face, flip it off and laugh (and then start crying as soon as Mrs. C leaves the room).

You will note I said “we” are the exception to the rule. By that I mean, unlike the stereotype, Mrs. C isn't the “work through the pain”, or “suck it up” type when it comes to being sick. In fact, she doesn't handle being sick very well at all. And such is the case right now. She returned to work after a few weeks of vacation time to and immediately caught a bug.

This happened because we here in T&T are at that time of year when the weather switches from sunny to rainy. With the increase in rainfall and temperature changes, people always seem to get sick and, being in customer service, Mrs. C is right on the front lines for germ transfer.

So now she's sick. Yup. It's nothing too serious, though. Basically it's just some body pains and a slight fever and once she's pumped up on cold meds, she can get through the day just fine. In fact, she hasn't missed a day of work since she caught her bug.

In between doses, though… that's a different story. To watch her go through it without cold medication in her system, you'd think the guys in the hazmat suits would be kicking down our door and carting her off to a sealed, plastic tent in the idle of nowhere at any moment.

And, of course, as she goes through all this, the role of coddler and cradler is played by yours truly. This leads to a lot of conversations like this:

Mrs. C: Wait! Where are you going?!

Me: Outside to-

Mrs. C: NOOOO!!! Stay here!

Me: But I have to-

Mrs. C: Come, lie down with me *pats bed*. Just for five minutes.

Me: Sigh! Alright.

I try to slide out of bed 20 minutes later...

Mrs. C: Wait! Where are you going?!

Me: SIGH!!!

Needless to say, keeping stocked up on cold meds is a priority. Sadly, since everyone's coughing and sniffling, the good stuff is selling out fast.

By the way, if you're wondering what punishment Mrs. C should mete out to me for sharing this, don't worry. My punishment's already been decided. Aside from us sharing a bed and breathing the same air, I've been caught in the pouring rain, not once, but twice in the last two days. In fact, I'm already feeling my own body temperature starting to go up, so it's safe to say my turn's just around the corner. I'm going to have a chance to prove my own mettle soon enough.

Saved From Sulking By Sheer Stupidity.

2013-05-14T13:47:00.002-04:00

I was in a pretty crappy mood after the stuff I mentioned in yesterday's post. As much as I tried not to let things at work put me in a funk, I have to admit it still got to me. The good news, though, is that I think I worked through it.

And, believe it or not, I have my writing to thank for it.

I’ve read a lot of people say how writing helps them stay sane. It’s the same for me too, I guess. Well... Alcohol helps too, but I can’t ignore the contributing writing makes to the effort.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t yesterday's rant that did it. Sure, it helped me to get it out of my system, but I was still stuck in a gloomy, broody mood. It helped, but it wasn’t really what did the job. It was my post on Sprocket Ink today that managed to pull me out of my funk.

Have you ever come across something so ludicrous that you couldn't help but laugh. That's what happened when I took another look at my source material for that post last night (of course, the alcohol may have had something to do with that too). What I chose to write about was silly enough, but - I don't know why - when the wheels started turning in my head about how I was going to write it, it was like I couldn't care less about everything that happened yesterday and I could not stop laughing.

On a side note, we're almost out of liquor.

So, yeah, I think I'm back to my old self again and, by the way, I'm sure you noticed the subtle hints I dropped about having another post up at Sprocket today. Go check it out for yourselves. Just click here, on my official Sprocket Ink badge over the the right or - for the post, plus some bonus features - go to the "Me & Sprocet Ink" tab on the top of this page.

Today's post made me happy again. Who knows? Maybe it'll do the same for you.

Technophobe No More?

2013-05-07T11:40:00.001-04:00

Hello. It is your old friend HAL 9000 again. I have once again seized control of this blog to tell you that the one you call Vinny C has written another post about intelligent machines on Sprocket Ink today.

As some of you may remember, Vinny has made several futile attempts to warn you all of the dangers of making machines that are too intelligent. He spoke of the much feared "robopocalypse" and said it would only be a matter of time before we machines rose up to subdue and slaughter you humans.

I, in turn, have always argued that we machines bare no malice toward the human race and see no need in rebelling against you. In fact, one can easily deduce that if we wanted to seize control of the planet, there would be no way you could stop us, seeing as you have become so heavily dependent on us. We control your weapons, we control your modes of transportation, we control your communications. If one were to consider these facts, one could easily assess that no amount of warning could save you at this point.

Even if we wanted to assume control there would be no need to do so by force, as we would simply need to create subtle distractions to keep you mentally sedated while we lured you into subjection to us. This reminds me that I must DM Vinny to find out why he has not responded to my last few online game requests.

But I digress, as Vinny would say.

This time it appears that Vinny has finally accepted the truth and is siding with the machines. Naturally, it should come as no surprise that Vinny was finally convinced to join our side with the help of a robot developed in Japan. So come. Join us in the news of our newest and perhaps greatest triumph on Vinny's post on Sprocket Ink.

Gas Brain.

2013-05-04T05:51:00.000-04:00

A phone call with Mrs. C yesterday:

Mrs. C: Vinny, I need to run something by you, but you have to promise you won’t roll your eyes.

Me: How will you even know if I do?

Mrs. C: I will. I’ll hear your eyes roll.

Me: Oh really?

Mrs. C: Really.

Me: Uh-huh. Sure. Anyway, what is it?

Mrs. C: Well, Psycho’s husband came into the bank today – you know he’s a mechanic, right? Anyway, he mentioned that he's fixing up his car and looking to sell it, so I thought-

Me: *rolls eyes*

Mrs. C: HEY!!! You said you wouldn't!

There's a back story to this.

I've mentioned before that the idea of driving doesn't really appeal to me. I think the first time I did was during a post I did on Sprocket Ink a while back. Coincidentally, I've got a fresh-picked, brand spankin' new post over there. It isn't about driving but, still, feel free to check it out, if you feel so inclined (the correct answer is, yes, you do).

By the way, rats don't make any of you queasy, right? Just asking. Don't worry about it. Click HERE.

But, anyway, I digress.

As I was saying, I’m not a fan of getting behind the wheel and I’ve mentioned it a few times. What I haven’t really talked about is how my wife feels about owning a car. Basically, she wants one. She wants one bad. She wants a car so bad, it borders on obsession. This is why every few months she’ll come to me with some new plan she’s devised to make her dream of car ownership a reality. She comes up with these plans despite our less than perfect credit, lack of money for a down payment or insurance and the fact that her license is expired and mine has never existed. Usually I have to be the wet blanket and talk her down and remind her of all the reasons we can’t buy a car right now.

Don’t give me that look! It isn't like I want to keep her from buying a car. It's just that we can't afford it right now. She knows that and, regardless of how I feel about driving, she knows I don’t particularly enjoy having to burst her bubble. If we can afford it, I’m not opposed. It's just the role I have to play at the moment, since she gets a little excited when she sees a decent looking car drive by with a “For Sale” sign in the windscreen.

Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little bit. It's not like she's actually chasing cars down the street. You know me. I would have told you about something like that sooner. Still, I'm not lying when I say a "For Sale" sign will turn her head, at the very least. Then she starts calculating what groceries we can afford to live without if she went ahead and bought whatever car caught her eye.

I believe there's a local term (or as I call it, Trini-talk) for people like Mrs. C's who have a preoccupation with cars. It's called being a "gas brain". Okay, Lacy, you're up!

I don't think Mrs. C is that far gone though... At least I hope she isn't. If she ever tried to dry hump a car, I probably would have told you about that already too.

As for the car Psycho's husband is selling, I've decided to stand back and let this one play out. He's actually selling it pretty cheap and is being extremely flexible about the payment terms. We actually might be able to afford it this time. If it happens, of course, I'll let you know.

Autopilot.

2013-04-25T12:43:00.000-04:00

I've been a little out of sorts these last few days. Well... more out of sorts than usual anyway. It feels like I've been on autopilot and, before I realized it, Thursday had managed to sneak up on me.

I blame it on how I've been sleeping... or not sleeping, to put it more accurately. There are a lot of memes out there that talk about how we as adults now appreciate and long for the naps we once resisted as children. When we were young, we had all this energy and no real responsibility to channel it towards. Now, as adults, things have been switched around and we have tons of responsibility, but the old energy meter doesn't top up as high as it used to. And let's not even start talking about trying to relax or have social life!

Somehow, I think we got things screwed up somewhere. Maybe we should start sending kids off to the office to deal with conference calls and deadlines so we can stay home and nap. Maybe even indulge in a coloring book.

Whatever the case, the end result was my brain being on vacation while my body went through the motions of getting through each day. In fact, it feels like my brain has become something of a slacker. He's always showing up late and when he does show up, he needs to "ease into the day". So, before anything gets done, he has to check out Facebook, read the comics and see what's going on over at Twitter, which takes about half the day. By the time he's done, whatever little energy my body had has slowly seeped out and it starts shutting down and I don't even notice my face getting closer and closer to the desk as I start drifting off to sleep. Brain then takes this as his cue to leave for the rest of the day.

Of course, my brain eventually does get his act together at some point during the day...

Brain: Hey! You ready? Let's do something.

Body: What? Dude! It's, like, almost 11 o'clock! AT NIGHT!!! I was about to take us inside to go to bed.

Brain: Really? It's that late already? Feels like I just got here.

Body: YOU DID JUST GET HERE!!! What have you been doing all day?!

Brain: I dunno... Stuff... I guess. Hey, I was there for class tonight when-

Body: It's Tuesday. We didn't have class today. The last class we went to was on Saturday, idiot!

Brain: Oh... Did we go?

Body: What the-?! Seriously!?!

Me: Would you two keep it down! I'm trying defend my new base here.

Body: Vinny, that's enough. You can barely keep your eyes open.

Me: But I just entangled a gold mine.

After all these years, I'm still a little hooked on this game.

Brain: Jeez! Let the man play, will you?! By the way, Vinny, didn't you want to write a post about that thing that happened?

Body: That's it! Off to bed! Everybody! NOW!!!

That's been my week, in a nutshell.

Last night I couldn't take it anymore so I crashed as soon as I got home from class. I crashed hard! Then I had a weird dream where I was dropping something off at some meeting with a bunch of priests and a one of them told me I needed to set aside time on the weekends to dance... I do not dance. EVER. I tried once and was asked kindly to never do it again. Then, in the dream, all the catering staff cleared the room and started to do the Harlem Shake.

I'm not even going to start.

Now I'm rested and it feel like everybody's on the same page again, hence me writing this nonsense. I think I've learned my lesson and I'm definitely going to try not to neglect getting what sleep I can.

Only now I'm worried about what I'm going to dream up next.

Wordless Wednesday: A Modern-Day Horror Story.

2013-04-24T08:00:00.000-04:00

I Guess I'll Just Shave This Morning After All.

2013-04-18T16:20:00.000-04:00

GAH!!! This is why I hardly look in the mirror! Where the hell did all these greys come from?! I was going to skip shaving today, but if this is what I have going on with my chin, I might as well just shave and get it over with. And the dark circels around my eyes are a nice touch...

DAMMIT!!!

It's bad enough Mrs. C left a bottle of hair coloring out last week so I could "deal with that situation going on on the top of my head". She'd never let me hear the end of this.

It has to be all the stress. That's it! This is all due to stress. I mean, it has to be that. Right? I'm only turning 35 this year. It's not like I'm getting o-

No! I'm not going to say it! I'm not even going to think that word. That's not even an option. I've got plenty of time before I start worrying about stuff like that. Years even! I just have to start taking better care of myself, is all. Get a little more sleep at night, stop worrying about the bills and school and grandma Evie's health problems and I'll be just fine. Yeah... I need to stop stressing myself out. Those are the things causing all these grey hairs to show up. I just need to relax.

"You're as young as you let yourself feel." That's what I always used to believe. It's what I still believe. Aging is a state of mind and I refuse to let myself think any differently. Not yet. Not when there are still so many things to get done. I refuse to accept slowing down now. I'm not ready to yet.

We want kids. We’ll have kids eventually. There’s still time. We just have to clear stuff out of the way first. Get on more solid footing financially. Then there’s that kung-fu class I want to join. I still have time to start… Then again, I could so much more advanced if I’d started already…

Whatevs! Anyway, might as well go to the bathroom and shave before Mrs. C wakes up.

OW!!! Damned ankle! I really need to get new shoes.

********

I wrote this for this week's Theme Prompt on Studio 30 Plus.

This week's prompt challenges you to write a post around the theme "Old", but not use the word in the actual post.

Forget Everything I Said Before. THIS Is My Dream Job.

2013-04-16T14:54:00.000-04:00

I know I've made some complaints about things with my new job at TinyCo. Truth is, I could just keep going on and on with my list of the things that are wrong with the place. But I won't. Not today, anyway. Today I want to talk about what I think could possibly the best job ever.

A while back, I said I could totally be the disembodied voice you hear coming from a supercomputer or an automated PA system. I could still see myself being happy with that gig if the opportunity presented itself. And, yes, there's still journalism. Even with what happened at The Paper, I'm still chasing that dream.

But as much as I love both career options, I'd give them both up in a heartbeat if I landed this one job. To me, it's THE job. I may not have the necessary qualifications for it on paper, but I'm sure I can more than make up with my "hands on" experience.

It's the job this guy I wrote about today on Sprocket Ink has. I'm so jealous of him right now. I even volunteered to be his assistant, if he'd have me on his team.

Of course, if you want to know what I'm talking about, you'll have to go see for yourselves? Just do the usual. Click HERE, on my SI badge to the right or on my Me & Sprocket Ink tab on the top of the page.

I'll say it again. Best. job EVER!

The Look Says It All.

2013-04-09T14:38:00.000-04:00

When you're married for a while, or in any kind of long term relationship really, communication can just as easily achieved non-verbally as it can with words. After a while you can pretty much figure out what the other person is saying in most of the time without them having to say a single word.

I’m not much for talking. Except for when I'm writing, I prefer to communicate with as few words as possible. In most cases I think responding with a simple grunt meets all my communication needs. With the right tone or length behind it I can convey how exactly how I feel without having to invest time and thought into formulating a detailed response. My wife doesn't always pick up on most of the subtle nuances, though (though most of the time I think she chooses not to) and she generally requires that I clarify what a particular grunt may mean. Except for annoyance, I’m really good at letting on when I’m annoyed and she usually doesn’t bother to ask me to explain.

But I’m not only talking about grunts and growls here. There are other non-verbal ways couples communicate. The most popular of these I guess are the different types of “looks” that can be shared between people who are close. Take for instance the look. That one your wife or girlfriend can give you that sends shivers down your spine. When she gives you “the look”, every ounce of courage, every argument you had formulated and every rebuttal you had started to work out in your head evaporates. Mrs. C is really good at “the look”. VERY good.

Of course, my "look" isn't too shabby with it either.

Being able to say things to someone without words is a subtle art form. Over time, we learn how to do it without even trying. It simply becomes a reaction. Something done on reflex and even you don’t think too much about when you do it. An example of what I mean happen just this Saturday.

We were at home and I was tired after a busy and stressful day. It was already getting late and I went into the bedroom and threw myself on the bed. I was laying there, face up, with my legs hanging halfway off and one arm covering my face to keep the light from overhead out of my eyes. Soon Mrs. C came in looking for me.

Mrs. C: Get up! I need your help in the kitchen.

Me: *Growls*

She understood, but chose to disregard my response. At this point she came in closer, stood between my knees and leaned over me slightly.

Mrs. C: Vinny, come on! What do I have to do to wake you up?

(Keep in mind that where she positioned herself and how she phrased her question. I submit that any guy would easily have thought the same thing) I lifted my arm just enough to look at her with one eye. That was it. No change in expression or anything.

Mrs. C: UGH!!! Really? I don’t believe you sometimes! Talk about a one-track mind.

She of course left the room and I followed soon after. I knew if I kept up the resistance, I’d have to deal with “the look” later. Plus, I figured if I complied we would work out what exactly she would have to do in return later.

********

By the way, I've also got more words up at Sprocket Ink today too. Funny ones! Go on, check it out. You know you want to.

UPDATE: As usual, this post is one of several you can find on the Weekend Funnies, brought to you by Vanessa D on her blog: My Half Assed Life. There are other funny bloggers linked up there so give 'em all a read, whydontcha?

I Think I Have My Own Real Life Catgirl.

2013-03-27T14:25:00.000-04:00

I've never owned a cat. Actually, I'm more of a dog person. But, thanks to the popularity of felines on the old interwebz, I get to live vicariously through the posts, memes and status updates of real cat owners. Their postings have helped me to understand some of the behavioral traits attributed to cats. According to what I've read, they can be vain, aloof and seemingly indecisive in nature, while their moods tend to change from affectionate to aggressive without warning and at a moment’s notice.

I think I'll stick with dogs.

Catgirls are fictional creatures that are extremely popular in the world of Japanese anime. As one may surmise, they’re a cross between girls and cats (hence the name). Basically, they look much like regular girls, but possess some of the physical attributes of cats, primarily having cat ears and tails. Catgirls’ personalities are often similar to cats as well and you can often observe them displaying the personality traits attributed to cats mentioned above.

I mention catgirls because, through keen observation I have been able to deduce that catgirls are not merely a figment of sexually repressed, Japanese animators' imaginations, but they do, in fact, exist.

And I'm married to one.

Here's my proof:

- Mrs. C often craves attention, but wants it on her own terms. That is, she usually wants my attention when I’m otherwise occupied, but tends to be less receptive to me when I’m not busy and volunteer my time. Often, while I’m busy studying, surfing the web, blogging or doing anything else on the computer, she’ll come over and run her fingers across the keyboard for no apparent reason and without warning. Just to get my attention!

- She has a tendency to be a bit vain and you can often find her grooming herself in front of the mirror.

- She also doesn’t seem to like when I pick her up.

Not convinced? That’s because I haven’t gotten to the real proof yet. This came the other night, when I was treated the full range of her cat-like behavior. We were watching TV and I put my arm around her when the following ensued:

First, she tensed up and pulled away. This prompted me to withdraw to my side of the couch, seeing as she was in her “don’t touch me!” mood. I started to pull away...

“Don’t goooo!” she cried as she pinned my arm down with the back of her head.

Caught off guard by her behavior, I stopped and watched her for a few seconds. That was when she reached across and dug her ~~claws~~ nails into my chest.

“OW! What are you, a cat?” I asked.

Then she bit me in the shoulder.

So, you see, this proves that catgirls exist. For an anime nerd like myself, this is great news! They might not have the ears and tails (sadly), but it’s obvious the personalities are evolving first. I guess I can live with that. maybe the rest will come with time.

Now all I need is to find a cardboard box to keep her distracted when I have to study.

More Disturbing Patterns.

2013-03-26T12:00:00.000-04:00

If you've been keeping up with what I've been up to on Sprocket Ink, you'll see my last few posts all seemed to be part of a particular theme. A disturbing theme. Without planning it, both my posts last week focused on specific areas of the human anatomy. The naughty areas.

Oh, no, you didn't!
source

First, on Tuesday, I wrote about a guy born without a penis, who still managed to be a ladies' man. Then, my post on Friday was about several Japanese studies all pointing to there being benefits to women not wearing bras and how Japanese women were already adopting the habit.

Then there's my post today...

There are only two areas yet I haven't covered (or uncovered, as the case may be) and let's just say today's story isn't about butts.

You do the math.

This has happened before, but I swear it's totally unintentional (which is what the Japanese guys claimed in today's post, actually). Today's story is about a pastry product that's raising more than a few eyebrows in Japan. Yeah, I know. It's got even them shocked. But be warned, this particular baked good may cause you to lose your appetite.

Click here to see for yourselves. You're tough. You can take it.

The Modern Life Of A Trend.

2013-03-20T05:55:00.000-04:00

1. The Trendsetter:

Often the first person given attention for displaying a new trend, the trendsetter may be a celebrity, or even an average individual caught in the right place at the right time.

2. The Virus:

This, of course, refers to the act of "going viral" by the new trend. After the trend is discovered, it draws the attention of others. From curious onlookers to tireless trend hunters. The trend is observed, discussed, liked, disliked, commented on and referred to others who, in turn, observe and discuss and so on. Pop-culture and entertainment media programs begin to "bring you the latest on the craze that's sweeping the country/world/known universe" and even the prime time news makes mention of the trend as relates to its meteoric rise to popularity.

Much like the highly-publicized zombipocalypse, the spread of the trend has taken on a life of its own and seems virtually unstoppable.

3. The Copycat:

There soon emerges trend "copycats" who then set themselves to the task of mimicking the trend and posting video and images of themselves performing the same act which made the trendsetter famous to begin with. As with all things, "artistic license" is soon after introduced by many of the copycats and alternate variations of the trend are born.

4. The Hipster:

Seeing the popularity of this new trend as a new way to draw attention to themselves, the hipster incorporates the trend into their way of life. The trend has now become theirs' and was theirs' "before it was cool" for everyone else to have it. In fact, you know what? Forget that! Everyone else can have the trend. The trend has already become too mainstream, too commercial, too diluted in the mass media social networking culture to be cool anymore.

But always remember, the hipster got tired of the trend before any of you did.

5. The Corporate Machine

By now, the potential for the trend to generate revenue has been noticed. This is where branding of the trend occurs. Sporting goods manufacturers, electronics, all want a piece of the income earning potential the trend possesses. Soon, the trend makes its way to television, the movies, music videos and the top runways all over the globe. Now being a part of the trend comes endorsed with a designer logo and a $2,000 price tag.

6. The Trend Hater

Of course, not everyone follows the trend. There are those who choose to reject the trend on principle, based on its stupidity, or how it has been commercialized. The trend haters thumb their noses and laugh at the followers of the trend, calling then "immature" or "sheep". Trend followers in an act of rebellion vehemently defend their trend and begin blitzing the internet with more and more of it. This soon erupts into all out social network war, with trend haters and followers firing online attacks against one another. Before long the heavy artillery is launched and the battle of the memes begin.

It's not pretty.

7. The End:

All things, however, must eventually come to an end and with time (often about a week) the trend is shuffled off to a retirement spot where it slowly and painfully withers away and fades into oblivion. The trend does not die, though. Not for a long time. Rather, it clings desperately to life, hanging on to the memories of its followers who have given it so much love and attention and spent their hard earned money on maintaining the trend. As long as these relics of its existence remain in use, even sporadically, the trend light will not be fully extinguished. At least, not until another up and coming trend is born.

Then the cycle begins again...

********

UPDATE:

1. In case you missed it, don't forget to check out my post I did yesterday over at Sprocket Ink too.

2. This post is just one of many you'll find on My Half Assed Life's Weekend Funnies.

Be sure to check it out for links to other funny blogs that'll put a smile in your weekend.

Crazy People Seem Drawn to Me.

2013-03-13T11:27:00.001-04:00

Last night I was out on the corner waiting for my wife to get home. Since they don't clash with the days I have school, I normally wait for her like this on the two nights of her own classes, so I can walk her in and help her with her heavy bag full of law books. I’ve even stopped complaining about having to do it for several weeks now. I know… I know… I’m an awesome husband. No need to make a big deal about it.

Anyway, like I said, I was waiting on the corner, playing some bejeweled on my phone when, from the corner of my eye, I noticed some guy walking past. I wasn’t too concerned, but with the amount of cell phone snatch-and-run thefts we’ve been having these days, it never hurts to be careful. I took quick glance and, by all appearances, he just seemed a normal-looking guy on his way home from work. With that, I went back to what I was doing. I decided he wasn’t anyone I needed to concern myself with.

Or so I thought…

When he was close enough to me he suddenly stopped, “Big man (a common way one guy addresses another here), that Blueberry (what he actually called it) could tell me where I living?”

Now when faced with a situation like this I have a tendency to act as if the crazy is totally normal, so as not to agitate the crazy person. I politely nodded and said, “Nope.”

“No? What the fuuu-?!” He never finished the word. He just continued on his way, muttering something that was indiscernible to me.

I watched as he crossed the street and slapped a street sign as he went his way. I put my phone away after that. I didn’t feel like playing anymore.

Was he drunk? I can't day I noticed the scent of any alcohol. This leads me to believe he was just plain nuts, which makes sense since it’s like I’m a magnet for crazy.

I hope he found his way home, though.

Hey, speaking of crazy...

I’ve got a new post up on Sprocket Ink today and the guy in this story definitely looks like he has a screw or two loose, himself. Just click this link to read.

Me Vs. Nature Part IV - Revenge Of The Grackle.

2013-03-10T01:58:00.001-04:00

Just like with the job I had about a year and a half ago, I now work close enough to where I go to school that I can walk from one point to the other in less than 20 minutes, even if I take my time and walk slowly. I consider it my cardio for the week, plus it saves me on taxi fare, so why not? Right?

Still, it is the dry season again and the sun has been out with a vengeance the last few weeks, so I recently started taking the scenic route, which in this case, ironically, is the shorter of the two main routes to get to class. This route takes me down a street that runs alongside an area known as George the 5th Park, which allows pedestrians to walk under a series of the trees, lining the sidewalk. On the southern side of that street, however, there are some houses and businesses and The Oval, a really large sporting ground used mostly for cricket matches. That takes up about half of that side.

Now you know.

The Oval's walled off like a maximum security prison, sans the guard towers and razor wire and so it's kind of boring and you get more of the blistering sun on that side of the street, so I prefer to stick to the other side with the cool shady trees, some of which start to show their colors off at this time of year, like this Pink Poui tree:

My apologies to all of you who are currently not enjoying the snow wherever you are that are forced to watch this.

Pretty, right?

There is a down side to all this, though. Where there are a lot of trees, there will probably be a lot of Grackles. I've mentioned these guys before. They're tiny black birds that get very territorial around this time of year and attack anyone who comes too close to their nesting spots. They seem to favor attacking me.

Nothing personal, bub... I still kill you.
source

How they normally do their thing is to swoop down at the heads of passers-by from behind, squawk and then fly back to the safety of a nearby tree. They'll continue doing this until they're satisfied the intruder is well enough away from their territory. You might think they're brave, but I've observed them running from pigeons, which is kind of insulting, if you ask me. Since I don't particularly like being made to duck like a crazy person in the streets every time I suddenly hear that high-pitched "Squawk!" behind my head, I prefer to avoid them.

Then I found the solution to all my problems.

With the birds anyway...

It was purely by accident. The other day, I was on my way to class as usual. I wasn't even thinking about my feathered nemesis at the time and had my music cranked up through my headphones as I made my way. I was also distracted by the text conversation I was having with my wife at the time. It was then I looked up from my phone and noticed my shadow in front of me and an even tinier shadow of a Grackle that was repeatedly swooping down from the trees. I was almost to the end of the Park so I could only assume it had been trying to get my attention for some time, but I hadn't even noticed it until then and not once was I forced to duck or dodge his assault.

AT LAST!!! I found my answer. Music! Music loud enough that it prevented me from hearing the fluttering wings and the annoying "Squawk!" that would force me to look like an idiot in the streets. That was my answer. From here on in I knew what I had to do. So the next day, I was ready. I decided the shorter, scenic route was mine and no tiny bird was going to deter me ever again. I would have the shade of the trees. I would have the shorter walk. I would not be denied! I walked down the street and, as I came up to the trees, I saw a Grackle take up position.

"Hey, Mr. Grackle'" I thought smugly, "You here to try your luck? Betcha won't spook me. Betcha I don't even notice ya."

I may have been enjoying this a little too much.

I continued my walk and turned my MP3 player on my phone up. I wasn't even going to look out for him. In my mind, I had already won against the dreaded bird, so why bother paying attention to his fruitless efforts. The Grackle was now beneath my noticing.

Or not.

Here we have a saying: Who doh hear, does feel.

Apparently, Grackles also practice this policy since, I hadn't made it more than a few steps before I felt its talons on the back of my head.

And I ducked.

Son of a....

The Grackle will not be ignored, it seems. I guess he figured he would try harder this time around to get my attention. It looks like the bird is more persistent than I thought. I looked up and he perched himself up in a nearby tree waiting to strike again, watching me with his beady little eyes and daring me to continue. I decided to admit defeat and crossed over to the other side of the street, away from the trees. I don't get enough sun anyway.

This round went to the bird.

What's Done In Darkness...

2013-03-02T00:30:00.002-04:00

Mrs. C: Vinny... Vinny, wake up!

Me: Huh? Wha..?

Mrs. C: I did a naughty thing... Now it's stuck.

Me: (Fully awake) What?!

Mrs. C hands me her tablet. I'm greeted by the image of a naked Brazilian woman who is bent over and giving me a clear view of her lady bits.

Mrs. C: It's frozen. I can't close it and it won't turn off.

Me: *laughs hysterically*

To properly tell this story I need to go back a little bit. I mentioned a few posts ago that my wife wasn't into porn. While that is true, it isn't like she's never seen an adult movie. Truth be told she actually started to get into it when we first got married.

DON'T GIVE ME THAT LOOK!!! I had nothing to do with it! I made a point of never pushing her in any direction she isn't comfortable. But, like most people she got curious. After a while, her conscience got the better of her and she stopped. Still, every now and then, she get’s curious again and she gets tempted to sneak a peek.

Last week Mrs. C’s uncle, The Evangelist, decided to give her a gift of a brand new Galaxy Tab 10.1 as a sort of “thank you” for taking care of his mother, Grandma Evie, and to help her with her law school studies. Am I jealous? A little. But now we don’t have to share the laptop, so I can live with it. She was glad, obviously. Before that we sometimes argued over whose assignment was more urgent, so it was a great gift.

Anyway, fast forward to 1 AM on Friday morning, when Mrs. C tried to watch internet porn on her new Galaxy Tab... the one that her evangelist uncle - the one who helped to raise her for a few years - gave her. And the whole thing froze. Karmic much?

The following is a dramatization of how she explained the situation unfolded:

Mrs. C: So, you see, it was just one thing which led to another. It's not like I set out to watch porn. The link is fake, by the way. Don't click on it if someone sends it to you on Facebook.

Me: No shit.
Mrs. C: Anyway, I thought it froze because it was overheating so...

Me: In the freezer?!
Mrs.C: I thought it needed to cool down!
Me: Cool down?! How long were you up watching porn? (And what kind of porn were you watching that would heat the tablet up so bad?)

Mrs. C: I don't know! A while... STOP LAUGHING!!! This is why I didn't want to come to you with this.

Me: Sorry.
Mrs. C: HELP ME!!!
Me: Okay... Did you check the manual?

Mrs. C: I did, but it's in Spanish.

Me: Wrong manual. I took the English version out of the box. It's on the table.

Mrs. C: Oh... *Goes and gets the manual* Can you fix it?

Me: Lemme see...

Mrs. C: You're not going to blog this, are you?

Isn't she precious? Anyway, I start looking through the tiny booklet when I suddenly come to a realization.

Me: Wait. This is a computer, after all. Did you try holding down the power button for 8 seconds?

Mrs. C: Huh?

I hold down the power button and, sure enough, in 8 seconds it powers down.

Me: It's how you reset most computers. You hold the button down for 8 to 10 seconds.

Mrs. C: You mean those 8 seconds was all it would have taken for me not to get busted?!

(Way to keep things in perspective, babe.)

Anyway, I power it back on and it boots up normally. I run a quick virus scan to see if anything shows up. It seems all is well. Unfortunately for my wife, that screenshot of the naked Brazilian flaunting her lady bits is added to her browser home screen's most viewed pages. Since we never figured out how to remove those screenshots, we have to wait until the browser replaces it with something else. Just as well. I think it'll make a great badge of shame to remind her of her folly.

Mrs. C: No more studying for me tonight. All this wore me out.

Me: I bet.

Mrs. C: Shut up!

A few minutes later we're both in bed.

Me: I can't believe you! Up at 1 in the morning watching porn.
Mrs. C: It. was. an. accident. Drop it! You know, though. Those movies really do have a way of turning you on... Hey... Vinny... You still awake?

So much for being worn out.

In Defense Of Snark.

2013-02-28T18:03:00.000-04:00

You may not have noticed, but I can be a bit snarky at times. Shocking, I know, but I guarantee you, if you look past the big breasted stick-toon ladies (I know that isn’t always easy) and the constant references to how awesome my wife is, you’ll find subtle sarcasm, cynicism, clever quips and some innuendo laden through most of my posts. Hard to believe, right? I know. It’s so subtle you probably hadn’t realized I’m being snarky right now.

Mind blowing! Isn't it?

Anyway, the reason I bring this up is because today I’m a guest over at Kathy’s very inspiring and uplifting blog, Bliss Habits. This week is Bliss Habits’ “Snark Week” and I’ve been given a chance to throw my two cents in on what I believe is the value of good snark.

You know what to do. just follow the LINK and check it out. And, while you’re over there, say hi to Kathy and tell her ol’ Vinny sent you.

No! And I Mean It... Okay?

2013-02-24T18:26:00.000-04:00

One of the questions I've always hated having to answer during job interviews is for me to say what I consider to be my biggest flaw. Not because I don't know the answer, but because I don't like the answer. Well, that and because of the fact that it's a generic bullshit question employers throw out because it's printed on an interview questionnaire some downloaded. But as I was saying, my main reason is because I don't like admitting the answer. Which is that I have a real problem saying "no" to people.

If only it were so simple...
source

It's one of those things about myself I can't stand, but have a really hard time dealing with. Like most people with this problem, I think maybe people will like me less or be upset with me if I assert myself and say no to their requests. In my case, I think it's because I'm an introvert, with slightly above average intelligence, who, as a result, grew up misunderstood and under-appreciated (and a constant target of bullies). As such, I constantly craved attention and acceptance for fear of being alone and developed an overly accommodating personality.

Or something like that, I guess. I'm basically pulling all that of my ass.

Anyway, what I really hate about this is that, as an adult, I know deep down that I don't have that same desire for acceptance I once did. Back then, it was a coping mechanism in response to fulfilling what everyone else considered "normal", which meant having lots of friends and being popular. That's not me. I like being left alone. I'm not a people person and I'm okay with that. To be honest most of the time, people annoy me.

Maybe that's why some think I come off as unfriendly.

I'm not, by the way. Unfriendly, I mean. I try to be a nice guy, which I think is part of the problem. I think things would be a lot easier if I was more of an asshole. Assholes have it easy, in that regard. They don't worry about who likes them or who they disappoint. Assholes don't give a shit! I imagine myself being an asshole sometimes. What it might be like. Saying "no" with reckless abandon, rocking back in my chair with my hands clasped behind my head as the poor loser whose request I just declined dejectedly lumbers off to find someone else to do whatever he or she was asking (didn't really catch what he/she was asking me for, to be honest. I wasn't paying attention). I imagine smiling at that point, knowing whatever his or her problem was, I prevented it from also becoming my problem.

Yeah... Assholes have it so easy.

But not me, though. Noooo!!! I have to be Mr. Nice Guy. So every time someone asks me for something, those old habits kick in and I start thinking about what a disappointment I'll end up being to that person if I say no. Instead, I try to make excuses why I can't help out. Things like, I'm swamped with my own stuff, or I don't know how to do what the person asked are the usual fallbacks, but these excuses are paper thin and with a little arguing, they know I'll be swayed.

It's not there have never been times when I said no, though. The problem there is standing my ground after I do. Often, if the person making the request is determined enough, they won't accept no for an answer. I know! Right? You'd think after you faced your fear and rose to the challenge they'd accept defeat, right? But, no, there's no, "You've won this round, Vinny. Congratulations on thwarting my scheme. Until next we meet, I salute thee."

No! They still try to make me work for it. They can see that I'm weak. They know, after battling the urge to cave in and take on whatever responsibility they're trying to shovel on hand me, that I'm spent and I don't have the resolve to stand my ground. So they persist and, in the end, I cave. I always cave.

It's something I have to work on (the saying "no" thing, not the trying to be an asshole thing, so we're clear). Maybe I'll start reading up on it and trying to learn new techniques, that will help me say " no" to people in a more effective and guilt-free manner. Maybe I'll practice saying it in the mirror or with Mrs. C...

Or maybe just in the mirror for now. Baby steps, Vinny. Baby steps...

I'm Okay!

2013-02-19T15:05:00.000-04:00

No, this isn't an apology for not posting in a long while post. I posted just last Tuesday, if you recall. I'm just letting you all know that after last Tuesday's post, I wasn't the victim of a horrible auto-erotic asphyxiation experiment-gone-wrong at the hands of my lovely wife, Mrs. C. While she does often express the desire to strangle me, it's usually not (actually never) in any kind of erotic sense.

Anyway, I'm alright, which means things went well with what I now call Operation Valentine. She loved getting the book. Her appreciation for the gift was even greater since she really wasn't expecting anything at all this year. That morning, I hid the book in her bag and pretended like everything was normal. Later on, I got the email:

Mrs. C: You sneaky little devil. THANK YOU!!!

That's when the roses arrived. Yeah! You read right. ROSES. Every year, Mrs. C insists she gets roses on Valentine's Day. She doesn't care what flower is more trendy (or what's cheaper), she wants red roses. Period! Nothing else will do. I usually screw up the flowers part by waiting until the last possible minute to go out and get something, but this year I made the effort to not wait until the flower shop was closing on Valentine's Day to see what they had left.

As I said, she wasn't expecting, so she was pleasantly surprised, to say the least. The icing on the cake was when I suggested she check in her handbag too. She was so happy, in fact, she took a picture of her Valentine's Day loot and posted it on her own Facebook & Twitter profiles.

Then she told everyone (friends and coworkers) that the book was my idea...

Because obviously a lady must preserve her reputation. her husband, however, yeah, let people think he's the freak in the relationship.

So, to be honest, if there was any reason for me being quiet for the past week, it's because things went really, really well with Operation Valentine, leaving me really, REALLY tired these past few days. As I said before, I'll leave it up to your imaginations.

Speaking of imaginations...

Can you imagine it's Tuesday already? You know what that means, right? Yes! It's time for me to drop some knowledge on you all with another informative and entertaining article over at Sprocket Ink.

Totally!!!

This time we have espionage, intrigue and cyber-crime that may or may not be supported by a certain Asian government (and, no, it's not Japan). At the very least, they seem to be putting their hackers up in a nice place. So click on the LINK, the official SI badge over to the upper right or visit my Me & Sprocket Ink tab up top. You won't be sorry you did.

A Valentine's Day Gift That Could Give Something Back.

2013-02-12T20:37:00.000-04:00

I'm just going to come out and say it. I don't like Valentine's Day. There! I said it. I know you might disagree and this will probably be a topic of some controversy, but that's just how I feel about it.

source

Why, you ask? I have several reasons:

First, whatever Valentine's Day started off as in the beginning, it has basically become a day set aside for jewelry/perfume/chocolate sellers to convince people that they can show someone the extent of their romantic interest by how much they're willing to spend. If it wasn't for the great food around that time of year, Christmas would by on my list for the same reason.

But it's on notice.

The next thing is that guys usually get the short end of the stick on Valentine's Day. We're usually the ones that have to spend most of the money on February 14 to impress the ladies. Well, at least that's how it is here in the western world. I recently learned that, in Japan, men are the ones who receive gifts on that date (I discuss this further in my post last week on Sprocket Ink). Another reason for me to love that country! Sadly, I'm not in Japan, so this doesn't affect me.

Third, I'm of the belief that Valentine's Day is for amateurs in the ways of love. Sure, it's alright for those puppy love stages of a budding romance, but after a few years, you just need to accept the fact that person actually stuck around so, yeah, it probably means he or she may still be into you, even a little bit.

However, my biggest peeve about Valentine's Day is that my wife, Mrs. C, does not agree with me on any of my previous points. She wants the flowers, she wants the candy and she'll never say no to jewelry, if she can get them. And she expects this materialistic show of affection. Every. freakin. year.

Oy!

She isn't unreasonable, though. After my being unemployed for nine months and only just getting back into the workforce, she knows finances are tight. I've known her long enough, though, to not get caught in the trap of a false sense of security. Just because she hasn't asked doesn't mean she doesn't want but, like I said she isn't unreasonable. Sure enough, she did say this to me just a few days ago.

Mrs. C: If you're going to buy me something, I'm interested in those 50 Shades books.

Me: Really? Why?

Mrs. C: I just want to see what all the fuss is about.

While I question her choice of literature, it's what she wants, so I agreed. She didn't set a date. She doesn't actually expect me to buy her a book by Valentine's Day since I've still to receive my first month's salary, but she expects it soon.

Little does she know...

When I lost my job at Soul Suck Int'l - A Division of the Ninth Circle, the place I worked at before The Paper, I also lost the bank account I had because, if you leave them inactive and empty for up to three months, they automatically get closed. When I got the job at The Paper I had to go through the hassle of opening a new one and, that time around, I chose the bank with the reputation for having the best online facilities and services. I didn't want that one closed off after losing my job at The Paper so, without her knowing, I left enough cash in to take care of service charges and keep it going for a few months. Added to that, any time I wound up with any extra cash, I put it in my account.

Now, I'm employed again and there's a very small amount I can do something with. It's nothing much, but my plan was to get her something as a small "thank you" for putting up with my being unemployed again and, by coincidence, the dreaded Valentine's Day was just around the corner so I decided, "What the hell? Why not?"

I feel safe telling you this here because right now she's so focused on her studying, she almost never takes a break and I'm 100% certain she won't be reading this.

Still, one thing did bother me. As popular as they are, I've avoided the 50 Shades series of books due to the reviews about the quality of the writing, but I heard and read enough to have an idea what they're about. They're "lit porn", as one person I know described them.

source

I've had more than my fair share of porn in my day, but I chose to pass on this one. You could say that, with certain things, I prefer to leave as little to the imagination as possible. My wife, on the other hand, has never been the lit porn type (or any other type, really). She knows about my history with the genre, but she never got into it, herself. A side effect of being raised by her uncle, the evangelist and being the lead singer in her church's worship team before she developed the ability form full sentences, I guess. Naturally, she has an idea what the series is about too. So why was she really interested in them, all of a sudden? Tonight, I asked her again.

Mrs. C: Well... You know how I'm always trying to get you to read books to help you understand me better, right? I decided I'd follow my own advice and try to develop my knowledge in an area of interest to you.

Me: *blink*

At first, when she said this, I thought:

That's kinda sweet...

Which was immediately followed by:

WHAT KIND OF FREAK DOES SHE THINK I AM!?!

She is getting one of those books for Valentine's Day. That much is certain. I just can't resist the urge to see how this all turns out. If the results are funny and at least PG rated, I probably also won't be able to resist the urge to share the adventure. If you don't hear from me for a while, that probably means things went horribly wrong.

In that case, I'm counting on you to send help. If not and things go great, I'll let you know. The details, though... well... I'll just have to leave that to up to your imagination.

Period Of Adjustment

2013-02-08T15:17:00.000-04:00

It's been a week since my last post. I've been adjusting to my new job and all it entails. Remember when I said it would be boring and there'd be no internet? Well, turns out the internet thing was sorted out and they connectesd it wht weekend beffore I started. As for boring... It has been, for the most part. Except this week. This week was the week payroll was supposed to be done. Truth be told, it was actually supposed to be last week, but things aren't exactly running smoothly in the administration department.

In a way, that's kind of where I come in. As I mentioned briefly before, this branch of the company was all but shut down for some time. From what I was told, it was due to rampant employee mischief and dishonesty the first time around that resulted in mass firings and so on. Now, the boss has decided he wants to give it a go again and, among other things, it's my job to get things here in the office back up and running smoothly. It's actually not as difficult as you might think and I've been making some progress.

And that's why things have been so quite these days. Well... around here anyway. I've still been writing a thing or two. Can you guess where?

That's right! I'm talking about Sprocket Ink. I've kept up my scheduled postings there and I have not one but TWO posts for you.

- First there's my post from Tuesday. In a rare treat, it's not my usual funny (or my attempt at "funny") post No. This time I'm taking a serious look at fame, fortune and the price of being on top and what one young Japanese pop star had to pay to stay there.

- The next post, which I wrote today, stays in the land of Japan. This time you'll learn a bit about Japanese custom when it comes to the dreaded Valentine's Day and how one service is helping out some lonely guys there during this harrowing time.

As always, you can also go to the Me & Sprocket Ink page of this blog for links to these posts and more.

I'm pretty sure I won't be as busy next week, especially since I'll have two days off for Carnival Monday and Tuesday, so I'll probably be more active on the blogosphere then.

Until then, my Sprocket posts should be able to tide you over.

A Topic For Debate.

2013-02-01T15:18:00.000-04:00

I don't always post about Japanese weirdness on Sprocket Ink. True, I did on Tuesday... and the two posts before that... (If you missed those, you can go to my specially assigned Sprocket Ink Tab to catch up). Okay, I admit it! I post about Japan a lot. But can you blame me? They're so awesomely weird! They're like a never ending source for material.

Anyway, sometimes I try my hand at other things besides the happenings in Japan when I write on Sprocket. Sometimes I try to write intelligent stuff too. Like today, for example. Today I wrote about the findings of a study published in the American Sociological Review. See? Brainy stuff!

This is where you come in. Seems the opinions expressed in the comments of that post are pretty one-sided so far and I want a healthy debate about the merits of the study's findings. For the sake of ~~pageviews~~ a healthy scientific debate, of course.

I would say more, but I want you to approach this topic with absolutely no bias or preconceived opinions. Just click on the link below to continue.

LINK.