5 foot 5

The best things in life are free. Oh really?

2011-08-14T16:59:00.000-07:00

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 23; the twenty-third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for this month is FREE.

They say that the best things in life are free. But I for one am not sold. First, how do they know what's best for me? Have they been keeping track of what goes on in my head? Why I think not! And secondly, who are they to decide what I should consider to be free. All I need is a few examples to show you that this skepticism is perfectly justified.

A beautiful sunny day at the beach appears to be free. But that package deal is accompanied by a risk of skin cancer caused by exposure to UV rays. Not so free is it after all?

With the advent of Wikipedia, Google books etc., knowledge is more freely accessible now than it has ever been. You can easily use these tools to acquire partial knowledge about any topic. And half-baked knowledge can be a very dangerous thing. Just ask poor Abhimanyu...

When your child smiles at you for no reason, it feels like a ray of warm sunshine just hit you in the face. What an invaluable and free gift it would seem, has come your way. However, just as that ray of sunshine can carry cancer inducing UV rays, the innocent smile may be hiding something too. Are you sure that the expensive antique vase you acquired last week is still intact? You better confirm that before you ascribe divine qualities to your child's smile.

Ah the first kiss. Can anything else that is free be more wonderful than that? Not so fast, Leonardo DiCaprio from the Titanic! If things are going to progress beyond the first base, which they invariably will, you better have some protection handy. Otherwise, there may be a hefty price to pay for that free first kiss.

Those beautiful spring blossoms. Mother Nature's free gift to all of us. Alas, with the blossoms come pollen and allergies. Oh, joy!

A walk in the neighborhood park on a gorgeous summer evening. Free, soothing, relaxing. You feel the day's stress just melting away. And right then you step into a pile of fresh dog poop. Poop that is still warm. Poop that has been strategically delivered in your path by that mongrel of a canine your neighbor has for a pet. Your shoe is so thoroughly and irreparably soiled that you can even tell what that disgusting little waste of fur had for lunch that day. That free walk in the park has thus brought your blood to a boil.

A mother's love for her baby. Free, pure, unselfish. Nothing else comes even close. Enjoy it while you can my little baby. In case you did not notice, mom is pregnant again with your little brother. And when that little tyke comes out, bye bye free love. One squeak from that little squirt and mom will rush to him. Then you better be ready to work for that free love. Because from that point onward for the rest of your life, you will always be Big Bro or Big Sis: the responsible one. While he on the other hand, even as he reaches his balding, pot-bellied and flatulent forties, will remain the baby of the family.

So you see dear reader, nothing in this life is free, except for this wise advice that I have just offered you. Blogging is a social cause for me in the end. This display of altruism on my part may make you feel deeply grateful. And if you choose to erect a statue in my honor to express that gratitude, feel free to do so. Just make sure you build it indoors. As my previous post shows, I would rather not be exposed to those pesky pigeons in my tall and handsome statuesque (or is it statutory?) incarnation.

P.S. And wish you a very Happy Independence Day!

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Happy Independence Day!

Revenge

2011-07-23T01:11:00.000-07:00

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 22; the twenty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Its about time we avenged the soiling of our statues! (click the image for enlarged view)

Sweet Revenge!

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

My refrains

2011-07-01T16:31:00.000-07:00

I am reluctant to play any sport that requires me to plan my wardrobe a day in advance.

I don't like to go to restaurants where the waiters are likely to be better dressed than me.

Children are a gift from god. But sometimes you wish they came with a gift receipt.

I worry that I can't be an artist as I am unable to conjure up vacuous ironies.

Every time I pass on making a donation for prostate cancer at the grocery checkout counter, I worry whether that's what will get me in the end. Did I just prove the previous statement wrong?

I don't understand why the menu at a restaurant is guarded as if it holds the secret recipes for their most famous dishes? No sooner are you done ordering, than the waiter quips: "Are you done with the menus sir? " Why? What's the rush? It's not like I am going to hold the menu hostage to get a free meal for my family: "Hold it right there mister! This meal is free or my infant drools all over this menu! She is teething as well, so don't play any games with me!"

For the longest time, I used to believe that special forces had the same connotation as special kids or special olympics. So I never understood why the army would want to have special forces units in the first place. And then when I heard that the Pentagon and CIA were using those special forces units to hunt down terrorists, I thought that was just plain cold and cruel.

Hmm...really?

2011-03-26T22:44:00.000-07:00

I am ... a contradiction

2011-02-26T03:18:00.000-08:00

I am a writer with a reader's block.

I am a faithful non-believer.

I am an aggressive pacifist.

I want to be an iconic iconoclast.

I am a punctual procrastinator.

I am strikingly average looking.

I walk fast and run slow.

I am serious about my humor.

I am a value investor who values growth.

I take calculated risks.

I dream of insomnia.

I regret having no regrets.

I am nostalgic about my future.

I am passionately apathetic.

I am stubbornly fickle.

I try to be original ... just like everyone else.

Did I tell you that I am a contradiction?

The First Born's Rant

2011-02-19T03:16:00.000-08:00

If you are not a first born child, you get to complain about how you got beaten, bullied and psychologically tortured while growing up or how you had to make do with second hand books and clothes. Until now, this and other similar sob stories have been empathized and sympathized toward within various social circles. They have even provided comic material to many a stand up act. But today my little cry baby, you get your comeuppance.

You see, when I was born, mom and dad had no clue as to how to raise a child. Sure, they read books and consulted doctors before I showed up. But as a new parent myself, I know how much help that is. In every day and age, parents are clueless, when it comes to raising children. And don’t even consider talking about having help from our grandparents. Do you seriously believe that grandma remembered how she bathed and fed her own children some thirty odd years ago? The net of it was that I ended being mom and dad’s little experiment in raising a child. One week into this world, I got such a vicious diaper rash that the color of my tush would have been the envy of a male baboon in his prime. That is when mom and dad learned that some babies poop more frequently than others. And as such, parents need to figure out their kid’s pace of defecation, to determine the optimal diaper changing interval. So, by the time you came around, they knew and remembered enough to ensure you never got a diaper rash. Effectively, I almost got my ass handed to myself in the first week of my existence, just so that you could enjoy a rash-free infanthood. How do I know this? I found and read mom’s diary from those days you dummy! If you really think about it, this altruistic pattern of me making the path easier for you, started even earlier than that. It started with the birth process itself. It is now a well known medical fact that the first labor is the hardest and the longest. Once the mother’s body has had one experience with labor and child birth, it performs much better during subsequent birthing events, resulting in shorter labors i.e. less work for subsequent babies during birth. So you see, in a way I fought through the birth canal harder and longer, just so that it would be a little easier for you, oh brother or sister of mine!

This pattern continued into our toddler years as well. Remember the day when you were about to take a bite out of that poisonous snail in the backyard? If I had not stopped you, you could have died that day. Now, I am not sure if that snail was poisonous, but neither were you. And I know you would not risk eating that snail today! So, in a way, I saved your life on that occasion. Then from potty training to eating solid foods and from preschool to high school, I continued to train mom and dad on how to be good parents, just so that you could benefit from it. Some bullying, an occasional thrashing, a few used books and clothes are a small price to pay for such privilege, don’t you think? And regardless of whether I succeeded or failed at something, I was always a role model for you. I was a positive role model for you in my success (something to emulate, which you did a lot and shamelessly I might add!) and a negative one (something to avoid) in my failure (I can hardly remember any instances of failure though). Basically, you had it made just by being born a few years after me. By the time I was sixteen, I had helped you in so many ways, I could easily have qualified for Sainthood, had mom and dad been Catholics.

Now, you will perhaps understand why mom loves me more than she loves you. I grant you this much... You were right in suspecting that from very early on. Oh! and you are very welcome you whiny, ungrateful little piece of $%@!

Yours truly,

Big Brother or Big Sister.

iNerd

2011-02-01T23:10:00.000-08:00

Stick this onto the back of any Apple nerd you know.

The workplace magic quadrant

2010-12-28T06:50:00.000-08:00

Three puns and a rhyme

2010-09-25T00:45:00.000-07:00

Two puns walked into a bar and ordered drinks. On seeing them one of the other patrons enquired: "Are you two homophonic"? As they nodded in accord, the bartender walked over and fumed: "Sorry guys, but you have to leave. These spigots do not open for bigots!".

I can't be ...

2010-09-11T02:14:00.000-07:00

I can't be a serial killer because I don't like to do the same thing twice.

I can't be a proctologist because I am afraid to find out things about myself that I did not want to know.

I can't be the president because I have a fear of oval shaped rooms.

I can't be spiritual unless it implies a scotch drink every night.

I can't be a prophet because I can never remember my dreams.

I can't be a visionary because I have myopia.

I can't be ahead of my time because ... well, no one can.

I can't be post-modern because I don't even know what that means.

I can't be a gourmet pizza because that's a contradiction.

Definitions

2010-07-18T19:39:00.000-07:00

Blue book value: The car price you will haggle for till you are blue in the face, but will never get.

Minivan : A public display of self-inflicted celibacy caused by the planned or unplanned proliferation of progeny within the span of a few years. (can't you tell I recently got one?)

Conventional wisdom: A close cousin of the common sense. Typically refers to some common belief that is actually unwise.

Class act: A term used by sports commentators, which is code for "I don't know much about this player besides his stats. Nevertheless, I choose to pollute the air waves with terms like this one."

Spirituality: Some vague area that lies between religious belief and flat out superstition. This one deserves a separate post of it's own. More on this later.

Children's book author: Typically a washed up, less than mediocre writer or poet who knows enough people to take a shot at ruining our kids' vocabulary.

A preponderance of ponderance

2010-03-01T19:30:00.000-08:00

If waterproofing protects from water and bulletproofing protects from bullets, what does childproofing protect from?

The outpouring of generosity over the holiday season is truly heartwarming. But for it to be effective don't the homeless and the needy have to evolve to only be hungry in the last month of the year?

If you were a ghost with low self esteem, would you haunt ugly or average looking women instead of beautiful ones?

If life is a journey, I would like to get all the left turns while I am still young. So that when I am old and slow, all that's left are easy right turns that lead me to my destination, man! (swap left with right and vice versa if you are in the UK or a commonwealth nation)

It is safe to assume that at this point in time, the colloquial term for "cat" has lost its original meaning.

Do you realize that most "reality" shows contain plots and situations that an average person will never encounter in his or her life? When was the last time you had to swap your wife ? If lack of acting skills combined with unusual circumstances can shamelessly pass as reality TV, then porn would qualify as the all time king of such fare.

Ostensibly so

2010-01-23T08:45:00.000-08:00

Do you want to appear cool, learned, well read, erudite, elite or all of the above ? Then here are some tips you can follow in the new year:

Say something about how vinyl LPs used to be cool. Little does it matter that you were born in the 90's.

Talk about fruitiness, dryness or full bodied"ness" or some arbitrary combination of these while sipping wine. If your friends are just as half-witted as you are, they will nod in accord.

Always compare a movie that is based on a book with it and state whether it was better or worse. Neither watching the movie nor reading the book is a prerequisite for such commentary.

Express some frustration about marijuana not being legal, completely out of context. Who cares that you cannot tell the difference between a bong and a bagpipe?

When you are ill informed about an issue, default to the liberal side of things.

Try to use words like Polyannish, Kafkaesque, Freudian etc. whenever possible. Better yet... use them in the same sentence, when talking about that book that was made into a movie, as in: "The protagonist's Polyannish optimism coupled with a Freudian view of relationships sets the stage for a Kafkaesque plot which yields itself very nicely to a screenplay." Again remember, meaning is irrelevant.

And for men: Don't forget bright red colored tennis shoes. They are all the rage in the circles you may want to impress. Little does it matter that the last time you were nine years old, was about thirty years ago.

The Dilemma

2009-09-09T21:27:00.001-07:00

My past life

2009-09-05T22:59:00.000-07:00

After trying hard to remember for a long long time, I have now recollected some important details of my past life. You read it right, I am saying that I now remember what I was in my past life. But before you get your hopes too high, let me burst your bubble by saying that I was neither a king nor a nobleman of some sort in my pre-incarnation. Also don't bother asking me if I led an exciting life in one way or another and whether I died a premature and horrible death. A lot of other people claim to have had those experiences in their past lives. Me? I was not even human. I was in fact a parasite. The kind of parasite that could have killed you in the middle ages, if it had entered your stomach. So, if you had seen me then, you would be hard pressed to tell my mouth from my behind. However, I was a spiritual parasite nonetheless. But, since I did not posses a mouth, eyes or limbs, I had no way of expressing my spirituality. You are just going to have to take my word for it.

As I think harder about this, I do remember passing through the digestive tracts of half a dozen kings and two dozen noblemen, with fatal consequences. And some of those people seem to have reincarnated as my friends, just to seek revenge by telling me make-believe stories about their past lives. On such occasions, when I am exasperated by listening to these intolerable blowhards, I yearn to be my fake previous self again.

Gas station gargoyles

2009-08-30T23:55:00.000-07:00

At the gas station, as you wait for the familiar click of the nozzle that indicates a full tank, you encounter a lot of interesting characters at the adjacent pumps. Here are some of my favorites:

The sunglasses dude: This guy's primary motive is to show off his fancy new sunglasses as he tops off his car. So, he picks a pump that is directly in the sunlight, gets the gasoline going and then starts to pose and look around to see if any of the fellow drivers are taking notice. At this point, I am so repulsed by this spectacle (pun intended), that the gas prices themselves seem downright modest. What this "Einstein" does not realize, is that if I am using the other side of the same pump, I can see his ATM pin and zip code in those reflective sunglasses.

The gas pump virgin: The gas station is a completely new experience for this poor sod. This character is typically one of the many minorities that call this country home. This is probably his first trip to the gas pump after landing a job and getting a car. What follows is not related to the level of education he's had or the class of society he belongs to. The first challenge this guy has to overcome is to know "how fast" to slide the card. This is because the instruction "slide card quickly" reads like a threat to a novice. So, it takes about three to four attempts, before the card is successfully read by the machine. Then as he agonizes over the choice of fuel, you pretty much know that he will not realize that the nozzle has a lock that can be used to keep it going until the tank fills up. So obviously he ends up holding the nozzle till he is done. And from behind, he appears as if he were relieving himself into his car.

The new parent: This specimen is similar to sunglasses dude, except that the thing being flaunted here is an infant. This moron is so eager to show off his love for his infant, that a game of peek-a-boo continues throughout the refueling process, much to the chagrin of other drivers and the baby, who would rather take a nap than respond to this idiot. But since you can't choose your parents and yet you have to depend on them for your survival, early on, the poor infant plays along. Yours truly fits squarely in this category (as the parent mind you).

The car rinser: Here's a guy determined to clean his car thoroughly with the crappy windshield cleaner, that is available by the gas pump. As he proceeds with this ill-thought-out plan, the squeaking noises made by the cleaning contraption make people nearby jump. The fact that the same facility also houses a full service car wash does not shake our man's resolve. He is determined to follow through on this plan, no matter how much of other people's time and patience he has to use up.

The shopper: This guy is a close relative of the car rinser, when it comes to consideration for other people's time and patience. He achieves his diabolical goal by purchasing a whole week's worth of food from the convenience store at the pump. This guy is probably into stale donuts, quadruple cooked hot dogs, sub-standard dairy and chilled wine. Either that or he seems to be taking the term "convenience store" too literally. You just hope that the sunglasses dude in all his haste to impress fellow drivers speeds through the gas station, runs over this guy and gets arrested in the process. That would mean the end of two gas pump gargoyles in one incident. Now that's what I would call a coincidence!

Mildly funny

2009-08-10T22:23:00.000-07:00

The hair salon is probably the only legal business where we pay money, to lose something so fast.

The nice thing about eating spaghetti is that you get to decide how big a mouthful is, after you put it in your mouth.

I like urinals that extend all the way to the ground. When I have had a few drinks and want to relieve myself fast, the last thing I want, is to be insulted in the stall by a urinal that is a bit too high for my stature. It is also more hygienic for the owner of the facility, as it avoids the need for target practice at the most inopportune of times.

Metaphors are like analogies, only better.
(note the use of a simile to compare metaphors and analogies)

Is it me or are there too many Desis (first generation Indian immigrants) driving cars with stupid sounding vanity license plates? It does not look cool in my book to have a Toyota Camry with a vanity plate that says "Bhaskars" in the back. To me that's cheap to begin with. Because you didn't want to fork out the cash to truly pimp your ride, you are resorting to paying the state some extra few bucks every year and getting some gibberish stuck to your car's behind in the process. It is also a kind of car abuse if you ask me! Plus, I don't even get how it is vain to be honest. Why am I supposed to be impressed with the fact that the "Bhaskars" can afford a Toyota Camry, given the fact that they are a working couple employed in high tech companies, with a combined annual income north of 250K? I think we ought to look at these vanity plates, much like we look at tattoos ... as a youthful indiscretion. You were in your early twenties when you landed that high tech job and bought that car. You felt very proud to see that vanity plate at that point ... maybe even justifiably so. But now as a 35 year old jaded professional, it just makes you look goofy when you drive that thing to work everyday. So be kind to your fellow driver and get rid of that vanity plate. And do it before your vanity becomes the reason for my insanity!

The art of project management

2009-07-23T23:24:00.000-07:00

See this on a poster here. See this on a T-shirt here.

Assorted observations

2009-06-17T00:47:00.000-07:00

Talk is cheap, but silence can cost you.

Which one is larger ... Umpteenth or nth?

Who runs faster ... a girly man or a manly girl?

The next guy who uses the phrase "turn it on its head" in front of me will be turned on his head. I would rather speak to his rear than his face.

Once you meet an Amway guy in a store and listen to his pitch, you are certain that you have witnessed the lowest form in the human food chain.

Being anti-authority is so mainstream these days that today's rebellious teens are actually listening to their parents.

I wonder if all the people who die of similar causes go to the same place after death? Kind of like a postmortem support group of souls who suffered the same fate. A place to find kinship in death, if not in life...

There are many professions where smiling is a necessary part of the job. Receptionist, salesman, drive through operator ... to name a few. But being a baby is the only job I could think of, where crying is a necessary part of the role. If you are an infant and you can't cry well enough to manipulate your own parents, you are pretty much SOL, aren't you?

Do you wonder why plastic bags in stores are so hard to open? This typically happens to me in the produce section. You have to make sure you create a little opening with remarkable skill, as if you were a surgeon with a scalpel opening up a patient's chest. Except that instead of a scalpel, you have to use a thumbnail, that you clipped very inelegantly just that morning. After a poor show of dexterity, you will do anything to pretend that the bag you are trying to open is faulty. You hold it to the light and pretend to notice a speck of dirt on it ... before you proceed to throw it in the cart and grab another one, hoping against hope that you will be lucky this time around. And by the time you are done ... you have a dozen plastic bags carefully concealed underneath your groceries as you proceed to the cash register. I think I know now why people buy pre-packaged produce...

Leave my eggs alone

2009-05-20T22:32:00.001-07:00

When you visit the grocery store next time, look at the grading used for the eggs. You will see A, AA and AAA eggs. I wonder where all the grade B and grade C eggs are. Do you mean to tell me that there are no grade B or grade C eggs produced or sold in the entire country? Or could it be that "AA" really means B and "A" actually means C, when it comes to rating eggs? But, no one would want to buy grade B or grade C eggs, would they? It would be like buying the regular strength pain relief drug, when you could be buying the "maximum strength" or the "extra strength" version. It would be like purchasing regular canned soup, while you could just as easily be buying the "hearty" version. It would be like buying imitation crab meat, instead of buying the "authentic imitation" crab meat. It would be like ordering a regular pizza, when you could be getting the "gourmet" version. It would be like settling for just diet soda, when you could be getting the "zero calorie" version. Thus it comes to pass that the poultry industry colludes to use the letter "A" and only the letter "A" for grading eggs.

Its either that or someone's got the grade B and grade C eggs and they want to keep them all for themselves. Or ... it could be actually worse. It could be that the same credit rating agencies that rated various securities during the mortgage bubble are now into rating eggs. Hey, no one wants to hire them to rate financial products any more, so they need to look at rating other products to stay in business. Now, that would be a far worse scenario wouldn't it? It would be as if these people at the rating agencies are not yet satisfied even after ruining our metaphorical nest eggs. And now they are itching to go after the real ones too.

It's a mad mad mad world!

2009-03-22T17:48:00.000-07:00

We buy our music at the coffee shop and our liquor at the medicine store.

We loan money to our banks, so that we can borrow it back from them at a higher rate.

Our government is printing money to buy back it's own debt... Wait what??

Our cars can park themselves, but our kids need special help.

Our dogs eat premium chow, as we rush to work with a burnt toast.

We eat a big Mac, so that we can afford a Mini one.

We get our seafood from China even if we live thirty miles from the ocean.

Grown men "tweet" and "poke" on the web, as our vocabularies get smaller and smaller.

We demand good service from tech support, but we go easy on our doctor.

We want our dogs to be pure bred, but we are fine with hybrid meats in our breakfast sausage.

A cat gets his own therapist as its owner goes about his day with a bleeding heart.

My personal philosophy

2009-03-14T22:39:00.000-07:00

I am passionate about being passionate about something.

My dream is to follow my dream.

I aspire to aspire.

Where others see challenges, I see bigger challenges.

When the going gets tough ... I look for the thesaurus.

A friend in need deserves some weed.

It takes two to tango, but hundreds to make a Bollywood number.

When I don't know enough about an issue, I strongly express my ignorance.

Two wrongs don't make a right, but four lefts and a right do.

St. Patrick and St. Valentine

2009-02-18T22:13:00.000-08:00

Here are some T-shirts I designed over at Zazzle for St. Patrick's day.

buy unique gifts at Zazzle

The circle of awareness

2009-02-16T11:51:00.001-08:00

I want to raise your awareness about an important issue afflicting our society these days. The problem is that there are more people spending time on raising awareness about a problem, than those who are working to solve it. You have yuppies running marathons, singers staging concerts, bloggers posting thoughts, students wearing T-shirts and senior citizens participating in biker rallies ... all to showcase one issue or another. Actually, this problem is not limited to just the producers of such awareness, as I like to call the above group. It also extends to a group I call the consumers of awareness. These are the people who are responsible for encouraging the awareness producers. Additionally, these consumers of awareness read books about socioeconomic issues in the developing world, written by authors with exotic names. They then proceed to feel good about themselves, just for having done so. Never mind the fact, that many of these consumers hail from some of these exact same countries and sport equally exotic monikers themselves. But, they now consider themselves as fully assimilated denizens of the western post-modern culture scene, and as such find themselves on the other side of the fence. Anyway, the net effect of this dynamic is that it completes the circle of awareness, so to speak. The producer of such awareness feels good about himself, as long as he is able to find consumers for his product. And the consumer feels good just for having consumed it, thereby encouraging the producer to continue his altruistic and noble endeavor. Thus, round and round we go.

If I can make my readers aware of this issue, I would consider myself fortunate to have played my part in making a positive impact in the world through my blog this year (sob, sob... kleenex ... sob, sob). Boy! it feels good to get philanthropy, social responsibility etc. etc. out of the way so early in the year. Now I can go back to being the usual self-centered, narcissistic, ego maniac that I am, for the rest of the year. And as I wrap up this post, my book club buddies are waiting for me, before they open the "1994 Chateu le blah blah" bottle of pinot noir. Its a little ritual we have, where we inaugurate a new book with a bottle of wine. The more exotic the author's name, the more expensive the wine. Adios, gotta run...

P.S. If I didn't know any better, I would have said this post deserves an award as the "most humanitarian blog post of the year" (taking a bow, taking a bow).

What's that all about?

2008-12-29T20:44:00.000-08:00

Here are few things we can do to keep people alert or even surprise them a little, as they perform their daily duties:

Buy a gift card at a grocery store counter and then tell the cashier you would like help carrying it to your car.

Go to a flower shop and ask for a bouquet of stems. No flowers... just stems.

Hire an expensive personal trainer and tell him to help you improve the strength of your index finger. If he looks puzzled, tell him you want to strengthen it for an upcoming finger pointing contest at work.

After you get a hair cut, ask some of your own hair back as a souvenir.

Enter a "Manual" car wash and ask for Manuelle.

Go to a fancy restaurant, get a table, have some water and then order a five course meal all to go.

Take a load of wet clothes to the dry cleaners' and tell them you want them dried. Not cleaned, just dried. If they refuse to comply, threaten to open a "clean dryer" shop right next door.

Go to a discount store and put ten gallons of milk on layaway. If they complain, tell them you want ten gallons of buttermilk a few months down the line.

Tip the drive-through operator at a fast food joint with 15% of your french fries. Throw in a ketchup pack if you are feeling specially generous.

After getting your bi-annual teeth cleaning, ask your dentist if he can arrange for some hot tea and biscuits.

Stand outside a supermarket and offer to sell bottled air to all the people who are lugging bottled water in their shopping carts. It just might be your turn to be surprised...