When Life Gives You Limes

Hold that elevator, please

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 15:00:00 +0000

I work in a wing of a building that has 10 floors and using the elevator is taken for granted. While the signs on the wall above the arrow buttons says "Walk up one, or down two", I usually quietly laugh at it while I press the up arrow to go one floor.

Lately, I have been trying to take the stairs due to my expanding waist line. Some mornings, though, at 6:30 AM I just do not feel like walking up the stairs, so I head for the elevator. Now, if I do this, there is a certain pattern that I do.

- I make sure no one is behind me, so I will not be shamed into only going "up one" in the elevator instead of "up one" using the stairs. I quickly walk to the elevator to round the corner before anyone gets there, looking over my shoulder or in the reflective marble as many times as I can.

- During this quick walking, I am praying that one of the four elevators is waiting for me - doors wide open, inviting me in.

- I dive into the elevator, hiding behind the little wall feverishly depressing the "close door" button, trying not to be seen hopefully closing the door on any unsuspecting approaching person - yelling "hold that door." If someone does come up, I pretend and apologize for not knowing the difference between the symbols for close door and open door - as the doors are closing. (To my defense, these do confuse people. See the below picture. The arrow shows the "open door", or is it the "close door", oh hell, I don't know...)

- If someone does happen upon the elevator, when I can't close the door fast enough, I will hit the 6th floor button saying "I usually walk to my office on the 6th floor, but I pulled my tibialus anterior muscle training for my fifth ironman yesterday, and my orthopaedic doctor told me to rest it this week." I stand grimacing like I am in pain, favoring my leg (I think I said the right muscle).....and with my good fortune, this person wants to go to the 6th floor as well. So now I have to limp off the elevator (after they so graciously hold the door for me) and hopefully walk the direction they are not going....and if they do go my way, then I go to the rest room, duck in their for a second or two, come back out of the rest room, head to the elevator and go back down to my floor...all of this for just missing out on 22 stairs to climb.

Always a fun way to start the day.

What I will do not to walk up the stairs...

Weight, Weight, Sit Next to Me!

noreply@blogger.com (Ker) — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 23:38:00 +0000

Size is back in the news. Which should make Skippy happy since he loves those WalMart photos of the overweight, badly dressed people shopping with their kin folk.

I have a lot to say on the subject of size and obesity but I think the bigger discussion right now is Kevin Smith and the airlines. As you know, Kevin Smith was kicked off a Southwest flight for being overweight. He took his gripe to Twitter and ended up with a big, fat apology (and probably free airline tickets). The issue of size aside, I think Southwest was wrong to boot him off simply because they are inconsistent with their enforcement of the rule. If the rule exists and you're going to enforce it then do so across the board.

I read a review of 'Fatgate' by a writer who had a suggestion I loved. If the airlines are going to enforce this rule then they should set up a fat sizer (like the luggage sizer you see at boarding). It will consist of three airline seats. If you're not sure you can fit comfortably in your assigned, paid for seat, sit in the middle seat of the fat sizer, grab two passersby and make them sit next to you. If you can't comfortably put your armrests down without disturbing them - you're too fat to fly this airline. Of course the problem with that is that as small as those airline seats are, the flight is only going to be a third full.

The other problem is, it only solves the weight issue. What about the six foot giant that sits behind me and accidentally kicks my seat all the way to Florida every time he moves because he has legs like Seabiscuit? What rights do I have then?

And why stop there? If we're going to discriminate let's kick off all the screaming kids while we are at it. Strap that 18 month old into the fat sizer, give him a juice box and some goldfish crackers and see how long he can sit there without crying or having to get up to use the bathroom. If he can't make it to at least 30 minutes (and which kid can) he gets booted.

Heck, use that same test with the over 80 crowd - guess what folks, more seats have just become available!

Smelly people? Gone!

People who snore loudly? Gone!

Chatty Kathy's who insist on striking up conversations with you? Gone!

I bet it wouldn't take much effort for us to whittle down this acceptance list to me, you, and 200 of our closest friends.

And that's what I'm talking about - a plane full of funny, drunk people I like to call my family & friends :)

When I Grow Up I Want to be a Meteorologist

noreply@blogger.com (Ker) — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 13:30:00 +0000

otherwise known as "How to Have a Career with Zero Responsibility".

Every now and then when I'm at my job-of-19-years I like to entertain myself with thoughts of what I will be in my next career. I've narrowed down the field to weather person. As far as I know it's the one job that pays you to make predictions and will likely even give you a bonus if you're wrong.

By now you're probably sick of hearing about our Snowmaggedon, Snowpocalypse or even our Snoverkill or Clusterflake. Take it from me, you're not nearly as tired of it as we are.

Apparently Mother Nature has no respect for the Mason-Dixon line which clearly dictates that my state and I are located in the south. And everything I learned in elementary school told me that the south was warm. WARM!! Not buried under biblical amounts of snow.

Unlike other people I know, I don't live in a state of white purgatory. I live in the land of Natty Boh, crabs, and men in uniform - all things best enjoyed when it is at least eighty degrees out. Instead I've spent almost two weeks watching my partner shovel over foot feet of snow from one spot to another while I sat inside ~~watching a Jersey Shore marathon~~ suffering from the worst virus I've ever experienced.

Here are a few things (according to me) to be concerned about when your state receives 4+ feet of snow in less than a week (and you don't live in the north that is used to such things):

Where to put the snow once you remove it from your sidewalks, car, deck, roof, etc.
Performing the prayer for power 50 times a day
Your dog spending all of his time outside eating the snow and then coming in the house to pee all over your new carpet, new hardwood floors, bedding, etc.
Where to put the snow once you remove it AGAIN from your sidewalks, car, deck, roof, etc.
Icicles. Gigantic, death inducing icicles that could easily kill your dog if you don't remember to knock them down before they melt (it was a close call).

You would think that after surviving two blizzards within five days of each other we would be due for an early spring. Instead the local weatherman has a surprise for us.

Yep.

More snow.

I can only hope that 1-3 inches of snow after 4 feet isn't really going to freak out the commuters but I think there's a better chance the weatherman is going to get a bonus.

Friday Clip O' Laughter - Super Bowl Style

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 11:45:00 +0000

In honor of the great event happening this Sunday - you know the commercials during the Super Bowl - we have pulled together a couple of good ones that I think should be seen by all (well, the three people reading this).

This one is so reminscent of our swear jar post...and I think is just as funny - "It is chilly in here..."

Paying homage to my Walmart fetish and my favorite character on Modern Family, here is new one I find quite amusing...

So, enjoy the Super Bowl...because we all know why we watch it.

Wednesday WTFs

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 11:45:00 +0000

Why when I have over 190 "friends" on Facebook didn't anyone call or email and invite us to do anything when I posted that we had nothing to do over a weekend when our plans changed?

Why is Cynthia Nixon's girlfriend really homely and not very attractive?

Why does Progressive Insurance want to now have the most annoying character(s) in an insurance commercial...namely Flo?

While it was an awesone job, why did Pink think it would be fun to spin around above the stage and sing?

When a Mid-Atlantic weatherperson gives us a forecast, why do we believe them?

...and we're back

noreply@blogger.com (Ker) — Mon, 01 Feb 2010 13:00:00 +0000

You know it's been awhile since you have blogged when you can't remember your login name and password. For both of you that missed us and begged for our return - we thank you (Mom's what would do without you?)

I could offer you up a couple hundred excuses as to why we have been so ridiculously lame about ignoring our blog but let's be honest - you don't give a crap. And that's okay by us because when it comes right down to it we don't give a crap about your excuses either. And fair is fair.

I've spent the past few months ~~drowning my sorrows in Fat Tire beer~~ writing for work instead of fun which, quite frankly, is not as much fun. Mostly because I can't use words like crap, poo and Brazilian wax and somehow make them feel relevant to a government contract about the environment (believe me, I tried). I still have dozens of pages of ~~bullshit~~ incredible insight to share with the tree huggers, but there is only so much one can write about compost. So for a little breath of fresh air I thought I would let you know what future posts hold in store for you:

What's cold, wet, pretty for a day, then annoying as hell?
Grandpop's gonads
My apps
Meat haters

Friday Clip O' Laughter - Modern Family

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 12:14:00 +0000

Ok, so I touted Modern Family weeks ago but I just had to show some more of my favorite clips. If you have not seen this show, you must tune in...and tell Nielson that I sent you.

I must say, I was touting this show WEEKS ago, before it was all the rage...now millions are watching, and I want to say it here first....I was DVRing it before anyone even thought about seeing the former Al Bundy laying out by his pool (remind me to lay next to him in my bathing suit...I will look so much better) with his hot Columbian wife, and the ice dancing team of "Fire and Nice".

Here is a clip that makes me laugh eveytime I watch it. Enjoy....and I bet you can't not laugh. (sorry for the short commercial, but leave it to Disney, Mickey needs a new pair of shows I guess...)

Can life BE more annoying?

noreply@blogger.com (Ker) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 17:49:00 +0000

Vacation is over. That became abundantly clear to me yesterday when I had to deal with my boss who viewed my return to the office as the return of his long lost secretary (I am not a secretary).

So he's topping the charts of my pet peeves for the day. I feel the need to get these off my chest so I can move forward with my day. It's cathartic. I put them on to you, I unload, I feel better, you get to have them. You're welcome.

1) I am instituting a new rule in my office space for my boss. If you want me to assist you with a project/document/conference call your Blackberry will be banned from attending. Why? Because you are completely incapable of doing two things at once. This technology (including your "cool" new MacBook you bought) was not made for you. You don't know how to use it properly (nor when NOT to use it) so I feel it is necessary to treat you like the annoying 3 year old you are acting like and remove these toys from you when working with me. You make my job twice as hard and twice as long. I can never get those hours back buddy so suck it up. My office space, my rules.

2) What died in my office ceiling? I'm experiencing an invasion of flies and it's really starting to gross me out. This is a picture of my lovely flourscent lighting. It's a cool picture, but please note the black spots. Those are dead flies. Maybe some not so dead flies. Unfortunately I have no maintenance people to call. I am the official unofficial chief bottle washer, recycler, office manager, accountant, account manager, senior vice president of this here operation and I don't DO bugs.

3) Smart phones and rainy days don't mix. Not so much a pet peeve as an observation.

Good day people, and thanks again.

We are still here

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 16:09:00 +0000

Just a quick note to our fans (well, fan) that we are both still alive, still kicking, but really slammed. Ker is currently on vacation, and Skippy just got back from a week off. Shortly, we will be getting back to our regularly scheduled program, but in the meantime, please feel free to look at our older posts - some are actually amusing - and post comments on them.

Skip has lot to tell from his recent vacation, and Ker is bound to have some stories from where she is right now.

We will be back very, very soon.

Skip and Ker

Moon over Virginia

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 10:45:00 +0000

I have been traumatized by my mother-in-law. Let me tell you what happened.

My SO was in the in-laws basement, walking on the treadmill.

I walked downstairs to see how it was going, and as I was going down the stairs, I thought it would be funny to drop my pants and moon the SO.

As I am stepped off the stairs, and as I turned the corner, I started to pull my pants down to bare my ass.

The SO is screaming "NOOOO", and I thought it was just because the sight of my bare ass while the SO was walking on the treadmill would make the SO lose balance and fall backward off the unit.

I thought that it would be funny if that was the case, so down came the trousers. And I bend over, ensuring the SO gets a great view.

Little did I know that my mother-in-law was coming down the stairs behind me, and SHE was the one that got the eye (or should I say eyes) full, not the SO.

I have never been so embarrased (well, maybe other things I have done were embarrassing, but this was with family), and my cheeks were red...my face cheeks people, let's keep it above the waist, please.

Well, I have never lived that one down....thank god she likes me...bare ass and all.

Maybe I have it the other way around...maybe I traumatized her.

Dog Sitting

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 10:45:00 +0000

We have had the distinct honor to watch my parent's dog, while they went to Florida for three weeks.

She is a daschund, slightly overweight, and knows only two commands..."peeps" and "poops". I kid you not....it is a little embarrassing saying that out in the communal cul-de-sac, but it makes going potty easy, and our dog (a 90 pound chocolate lab) pees pretty quickly since he goes where she goes. Hopefully after she moves.

Now, it really is not a problem watching her, since they watch ours when we go away, but there are certain things that she does that tends to irk me and throw us (meaning our dog too) out of our daily routine.

First, she tends to bark...a lot.

A slight creak in the floor. Woof, woof, woof.

The high school band practicing across the neoghborhood. Woof, woof, woof.

A loud fart in the other room. Woof, woof, woof.

Second, she will go into her crate to drink or eat a snack, but then won't come out, because the door is not open fully...BUT...it is open the same width as it was when she went in.

Third, she likes to sleep in the bed. Now this is not too much of a problem, but our king size bed already has the two of us, and our lab (remember he's 90 pounds and likes to sleep on his side with this legs out). She likes to sleep under the covers..all the way down at the bottom of the bed. I have no idea how she does not suffocate, or we don't roll over on top of her. Plus, our dog is not happy about it either, and has been sleeping on the floor most of the night.

Lastly, she is an instigator. Point blank. Our dog will lay on the floor, minding his own business (or licking it), and all of a sudden the little one will run up, jump at him and run away. He lays there knowing he should not be running around the living room. Then, the little one, not getting her satisfaction of getting the lab to chase her around, runs back up to him, sits up on her hind legs, and bats him with her legs. Then the lab decides enough is enough and chases the little one around the livingroom....then he gets in trouble. See, an instigator.

All in all, though, she is a pretty good dog, and makes us want to get another one to keep the lab young at heart. It just so happens that neither set of grandparents want to watch two dogs at the same time...we will just have to convice them otherwise.

Friday Clip O' Laughter - Local News Style

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 10:45:00 +0000

So, when does a mistake on television become an actual icon that is seen around the world?

Just the other day, I was sent the video clip below. I feel really bad that I laughed so hard I cried....but I got over it.

Then I realized that Family Guy did a spoof of it.

Then, I was watching Glee the other night, and one of the characters made a reference to the "grape stomping video". I could not believe it made it to Glee...

I wonder if she thought that fateful day when she decided to try and cheat in a grape stomping contest she would then become a subject matter in adult cartoon and sitcoms?

I wonder how she is doing today?

Wednesday WTFs

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 10:45:00 +0000

Just some things that I have been thinking about lately.

1) Why have I not learned that when I use the oven, all parts of the oven that are actually inside, or things that actually come out of the oven, are hot and to make sure that my extremities are clear of this hotness?

2) Why do I still want Bryan Voltaggio to win Top Chef, but I think he has the personality of an eggplant?

3) Why do I usually only get onto Facebook just to play Bejeweled Blitz - my new addiction?

4) Why does our neighbor only use a rechargable push mower to mow his rather large yard, thus having to mow it in stages - spread out over three days?

5) Why do I think it was funny when Vern Yip on HGTV's Design Star said to one of the contestants, "You style is from the Kingdom of No Imagination"?

Now you see what I have been struggling with this week.

Til next time.

Don't Talk to Me

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 10:45:00 +0000

Lately, when I have talked about things to other people, things related to what I have talked about actually happens.

Cases in point.

1) I was talking with our friend who said she has never taken her cat to the vet, since the cat is an indoor cat and is not exposed to the outside world. We talked a little more about that, and then went home. Two days later, she calls and tells us she had to take her cat to the emergency vet (since she does not have a vet) because it was lethargic. Luckily the cat is fine, but they did tell her she (the cat) was depressed...ummm, ok.

2) I was talking to our friends about how much I hate throwing up and cannot stand to see someone barfing (as I mentioned in a previous post). Literally, the next day, I walk into the bathroom and straight to the urinal, and someone is standing at the sink. I am minding my own business, and I hear liquid in running in the sink, but I did not actually hear the faucet running. So, I turn my head, and see the guy at the sink, throwing up in the sink...IN THE SINK! There are four perfectly good stalls behind me, and two trash cans around. He chooses the sink. Did I say he was throwing up in the sink???

3) Just the other weekend, I was talking to Ker and her other half, and we were talking about one of their cars and how old it is. They said they did not want to get a new one since they did not want a car payment. Guess what happened??? Yep you guessed it. It was being driven to work, and it just stopped in the middle of the road...probably clogged with the bad luck that spews out of my mouth. Luckily, it was only some minor things and they all could be fixed...thank god, or I would be buying them a new car.

For now, I have decided not to talk about bad things, or remotely bad things, or even things that could be bad if said in the right accent.

I now only talk about winning the Nobel Peace Prize (you are welcome Mr. President), healthy grandbabies (give me five Duggar family) and wins by winless teams against the Redskins (congrats Lions and Panthers).

Friday Clip O'Laughter

noreply@blogger.com (Ker) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 12:00:00 +0000

I am doing something this weekend that I have ALWAYS wanted to do.

I'm going to a roller derby match!!! I took it upon myself to drag a friend who is celebrating a birthday this month and I don't think I'm going out on a limb here if I tell you - this is the COOLEST party I've ever planned!

How does this relate to today's Clip O'Laughter? Funny you should ask...the new movie "Whip It" got me thinking about roller derby, which led to this weekend's viewing of the Charm City Rollers Championship match.

Since "Whip It" is so new I couldn't find any really good video clips, well except for the trailer, but who wants to watch a trailer? But one of the stars of "Whip It" is one of my favorite actresses, Ellen Page, who stared in my now #1 favorite movie "Juno".

It's like six degrees of separation - on skates.

Anyway, here's a clip from Juno that always makes me laugh. Enjoy; and if you get a chance, go check out a roller derby match, those women are taking a beating for your entertainment.

Juno | Movie Trailers

What Not to Wear

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 10:45:00 +0000

It was a restless night, several years ago - we are at the SO's parent's house for the weekend, sleeping in a small bed. We let our pooch sleep on the floor on his new bed we brought (instead of his crate), and it was warm even with the fan blowing. The SO's brother's dogs were also at the house spending the night in the in-law's parent's room which is literally six feet a way from our door.

Our pooch whined off and on throughout the night (come to find out, the other dogs were too), and around 1:30 a.m., it seemed like our pooch wanted to go out. So the SO got up, wearing only what God provided, unlocked the door, and walked down the hall to the back door.

It was dark, it was late, and the SO thought the alarm was not set - opened the door, and sirens go off - the SO fumbles to turn the alarm off, as the in-laws get out of bed and Mom starts walking down the hall, with the other dogs in tow...

"Is everything ok?", she shouts over the alarm.

"YES, Mom, please don't come any farther down the hall."

"What did you say?", as she walks closer.

"Mom, STOP!! Don't come any further!!!"

"What, I can't here you over the siren!?!?" she shouts as she walks farther down the hall.

The alarm is turned off...

The SO yells, "Mom, STOP...I am not wearing anything!!!"

"Oh".....She quickly walked back down the hall to her own bedroom.

Whew...that was close...no peakage by mom.

DVR Alert

noreply@blogger.com (Ker) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 13:31:00 +0000

I am taking a break from the usual drivel I write/complain about to bring you a DVD alert for this evening.

Skippy and I are in complete agreement over the best new television show this season, Modern Family. I have it on good authority (okay I heard an interview on the radio with the Director, Jason Winer - hey, did you know he was from Baltimore? How about a nice "Hon!" shout out for the hometown boy) that tonight's episode is destined to be a classic.

First off, Shelley Long (of Cheers fame for you young-uns) guest stars as the mother of Claire and Mitchell and from the commercials looks to be a tad on the straight jacket-padded room-crazy lady side.

That, in and of itself, is totally worth watching.

But Jason upped the intrigue a bit more by cautioning that the last five minutes is going to be worthy of some serious replaying and water cooler convo tomorrow. It seems that Dylan, Haley's boyfriend, showcases his musical talents tonight. Now before you start thinking that this is another sitcom's foray into musical madness, I am anticipating a much funnier number (let's hope I'm right because Glee is about all I can take in terms of musicals).

In a little cross platform marketing the song he sings will be available on iTunes directly after the show along with a video. Apparently Reid Ewing who plays Dylan is an accomplished musician so it shouldn't suck.

I've had a lousy DVR week with the damn thing cutting off the last 5 minutes of every program so I may actually have to watch the show in real time (horror!). Do you have any idea what it is like to watch a dozen shows ALL with the last 5 minutes missing? Thank God for Hulu and Fancast!

Happy viewing people :)

Be Careful Out There

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 10:45:00 +0000

So I am watching TV this morning (doing my morning 5:00 am ritual of drinking a cup of wake-me-up and watching Channel 9) and a teaser comes on and the annoucer says "Why a new study says a few extra pounds may actually be good for you."

My ears, my few (?) extra pounds and the Reese's cup I had last night perk up and paid attention. I thought, wow, I could be the healthiest person around with my "few" extra pounds!

I look up at the screen, and all I see are rather large persons from the neck down waddling down unknown streets carrying fast food bags, hot dogs, cigarettes and whatnot.

Now none of these people actually had from what I can tell a "few extra pounds" (and I know that TV supposedly adds some weight)...but I digress...

What really struck me was this...none of these people knew that they were being filmed. They were just doing what they do best, minding their own business not thinking their ass and love handles were going to be on TV.

If I was watching the news and looked up to see my ass covered in stretch pants on the screen waddling down Main Street, I would be so pissed.

I wouldn't be mad that they had me on television without me knowing promoting a story about fat people, but I would be mad that they caught me out in public in stretch pants.

Next thing you would know, my picture will be here.

Ground Control to Major Tom

noreply@blogger.com (Ker) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 13:59:00 +0000

Have you noticed that more and more people are talking to themselves?

Okay they aren't really talking to themselves, but it sure as hell looks that way. As more and more states ban driving while talking on cell phones (what's the matter with you Maryland?) Bluetooth enabled headsets have become increasingly common.

I'm all for the technology. Any opportunity to keep drivers focused on the task at hand is okay in my book. But a line has been crossed. I feel the need to remind people that a Bluetooth headset is NOT an accessory that should be adorned like a watch, diamond earrings or a nose ring.

I say this because twice in one week I found myself responding to people who I thought were talking to me but were in fact talking to mystery people on the other end of the phone.

The first incident left me confused more than anything since the woman who I thought was talking to me wasn't even speaking English. You would think that would have been a dead giveaway. Not so much.

The second time was a little more embarrassing, and not just because we were speaking the same language. I looked (and felt) like an idiot for thinking that guy who was asking his wife what kind of cereal to buy the kids was somehow talking to me.

The confusion on the guy's face when I attempted to hand him the box of Crunch Berries was warranted but nonetheless annoying since, after all, he started it. I doubt I looked as suave as I thought I did when, recognizing that I was caught in an ill-timed cereal hand-off with a married man, instead of handing it to him I abruptly reached past him and placed the box on the shelf behind him muttering an unintelligible "Excuse Me" as I brushed past. It's okay if you want to look like a dork in public with the Bluetooth attached to your head, but don't drag me down with you buddy.

Both of these examples illustrate my point: leave the Bluetooth in the car people. Staring at you in traffic and laughing at you 'talking to yourself' is entertainment for me. It's enjoyable and helps me pass the time at the red lights. But for the love of Pete when you exit the car leave the Bluetooth behind. Because as cool as you think you are - you're not. If the conversation is that important remain in your vehicle. If you are that important at your job perhaps you shouldn't be taking personal time away from negotiating the release of hostages to buy your kids cereal.

Cell phones are not that heavy that you couldn't disconnect and carry the stupid thing with you.

I'm just saying.

Friday Clip O' Laughter - Modern Family

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 10:45:00 +0000

So the new TV season has only been around for a couple of weeks, but there has been one comedy that cracks me up with its humor - Modern Family. It is very reminiscent of one of my favorite comedies that was cancelled after only three seasons, Arrested Development.

Below was one of my funniest scenes from the series premiere.

(Please note...the original link expired, but I could not find this one again, so I found the next funniest one, where the father is going to teach his son the lesson and shoot him with the pellet gun).

Enjoy...I know I did.

Slanket vs. Snuggie

noreply@blogger.com (Ker) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 12:00:00 +0000

I love learning new things.

Not intellectual e=MC2 kind of things - that would be too much like school and well, grown-upy. Nope, I like my learnin to come from out of the way obscure means, like the entertainment business. I feel so satisfied, it's entertainment and education all in one.

This week I learned a little about QVC. Although I haven't learned yet what the Q-V-C actually stands for (please don't tell me it's Quality Viewing Channel).

I've never bought anything off of QVC but I'm familiar enough with the concept: invent something, price it at $__.99 and watch the phones go crazy. Simple enough.

What I learned that I didn't know (and this is my favorite part of learning, the sharing) is that there is a whole other business out there that consists of people and companies who do nothing but rip off the people who sell their stuff on QVC.

I did not know that.

Apparently, just because you create something, manufacturer it, and sell it on TV - does NOT make it yours. Go figure. What it makes it is fair game. This of course, only applies to something that does not have a patent on it. And if you create something that is obscure enough in terms of the materials used to create it, you can't get a patent on it.

Did I lose you?

Let me give you an example; in fact I will use the same one that I heard about on the radio (there I go again learning things from entertainment).

This is the Slanket. Does it look familiar? It should. Because it's basically the same thing as the Snuggie. And the Huddler.

The Slanket was created in 1998 by a cold college kid in Maine named Gary. Now because Gary was a poor college kid he didn't have the money to promote his invention 24/7 so he had to be choosey. He scraped together enough money to sell his product on QVC and suddenly chilly people from Maine to Alaska could warm up, hold their hot toddy and keep out that cold winter's draft simultaneously.

Because Gary's invention was a variation on a blanket and really didn't have a lot of parts to it, the patent department didn't see fit to issue a patent. Enter Snuggie, Huddler and other wearable blankets.

Isn't capitalism cool?

Gary seemed to take it all in stride; although I suspect enough time has now gone by (and enough money has been made) that the audacity of the theft has worn down to a nub of irritation that will remain with him always like the canker sore from hell.

Now because the corporation that created the Snuggie had lots of money behind it, it could buy up airtime on channels like QVC, HSN and 2am rotations on the CW. But all was not lost because you see the more the Big Corporation promoted Snuggie, the more attention the Slanket received (in theory anyway). Again, capitalism at work. Cool, huh?

It really is cool. It makes the world go 'round (because it produces money) and allows us little people to carve out our own niche on the world. The lesson of course being that you should be sure your niche is patentable, otherwise you're going to end up hawking your new Slanket Siamese on QVC while some schmo watching takes this brilliant idea to his boss and proclaims it his.

This story not only taught me about capitalism, but also about QVC because I had NO idea QVC was located in West Chester, PA and gives studio tours! I can't help but wonder how many times I've driven past that place ("Oblivious, party of one").

I can think of no better day trip for Skippy and I then a visit to the QVC studio where we will be able to watch the QVC programs in progress!

I wonder if they will sign my Slanket.

Wednesday WTFs

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 10:45:00 +0000

Things I have been pondering lately:

Wouldn't you think that the person whose one shoe is in the middle of the road, would realize he/she was missing it, and come back and get it?

Why doesn't the more weight appropriate person wear the mid-drift showing shirts and low waisted pants?

When in the world did the collar-up fad come back? And....when in the world is it going to go away again? What's next - parachute pants, Jellies, and Member's Only jackets?

What is this world going to look like in 25 years when the men with their multiple tribal arm bands and the women with "Daddy's Baby Girl" on their upper breasts all get older, saggier and flabbier?

How can the 300 pound, 55 year old "security guard" at my building's entrance ever catch a terrorist who runs into the building?

Wax On, Wax Off

noreply@blogger.com (Ker) — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 19:05:00 +0000

Do you remember when you were little and your parents used to have dinner parties and you used to sneak to the top of the stairs so you could listen in on their conversations?

I remember it clear as day - and not just because I see a lot of myself in Sally on Mad Men whose mother treats having kids as an inconvenience, not that my mother did, no way she was an awesome mom but she did make it a point to call me recently about the line from the show when Bets told her son who complained about being bored to go bang your head against the wall, what's up with that? - anyway I remember thinking about the day I would be old enough to attend dinner and cocktail parties and how stimulating the conversation would be and how intellectual we would all be.

I am such a freaking dreamer.

Which brings me to my point - a dinner party I attended this past weekend at a certain somebody's house. Calling it a dinner party doesn't even feel right. Calling it a dinner party makes it sound like the dinner parties of our parents generation with funky outfits, smoke, gin & tonics and intellectual conversation. Like Mad Men - 70's style.

At the risk of offending anyone who was at the party there was no intellectual conversation. There were no funky outfits, no gin & tonics and certainly no smoke (we gave that up a decade ago thank freakin G*d).

It occurred to me that we should all be extremely grateful that we have no children. If we did there surely would have been a lot of explaining taking place on Sunday. At any given time the conversation topics ranged from waxing private parts, stories of a friend's indecent exposure, and bowling. You would be surprised how often bowling came up when the waxing questions started to fly.

This was not your parents dinner party.

Although it was pointed out to me that more than one of our parents would not only have held their own in that conversation, they probably could have added a great deal. Sad but true.

And should you be mistaken and think it was the alcohol talking I assure you - it was not. Beer and wine were included but it became pretty clear that they were only there to help us wash down the bean dip, guacamole, enchiladas, chili and cheesecake that we gorged ourselves on.

This experience however has left me wondering what EXACTLY our parents discussed at their dinner parties. Seeing as how Brazilian wax hadn't made it across the border (so to speak) just yet.

Something tells me church, taxes, and education are out. I'll keep you posted ;)

I Dream of Jeannie, Oscar the Grouch and Martha Stewart

noreply@blogger.com (Skippy) — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 10:45:00 +0000

I was riding the other day with me carpool husband (and yes, he has now become my carpool husband since I tried it and it worked), and he said something the other day that really got me thinking.

He was talking about a dream he had where I was in it (playing a leading role of course) and there were other bit players in his dream that he called "dream extras". I thought that term was very interesting, and it got me thinking about all of the dream extras are in my dreams sometimes, and how in the world they got there to begin with.

You know what I am talking about...you are walking down the the sidewalk in front of your house, and there is David Hasselhoff running towards you in his Baywatch trunks to rescue your second grade teacher, Mrs. Brining, from the grips of a horrible rip tide occuring in the ocean that had been your street...then you wake up.

Or, you are cooking dinner and turn around and Lady Gaga is dancing the salsa with Cat Deeley with Mary Murphy screaming they are on the hot tamale train while your secretary is doing a beer pong in the corner...then you wake up.

Don't you wonder how your brain puts together people from the past, with someone you saw on television, with your co-worker, and sprinkle in random passerbys you saw in the cafeteria line at work?

These, my friends, are the dream extras.

There are actual starring roles. For example, I am always in the spotlight in my own dreams, and my co-stars (of lower billing, of course) have some major parts. But the Dead Male Body under the sheet played by your nosy neighbor, or the Hooker #3 on the corner played by your barber's daughter are all played by these random dream extras that would never be caught dead together in real life.

Why does your brain do these things?

If only I could remember these dreams explicitly, I could easily be able to write an article for the next issue of People magazine. I would be rich, rich, rich, and possibly to be able to hire better dream extras than what just is laying around waiting to be picked up for an 8 month season contract.

Glee-ball

noreply@blogger.com (Ker) — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 12:00:00 +0000

Did you think I was finished with Glee?

Truth be told I might have been, but then they came up with one of the best football scenes I've ever viewed.

Admit it...it made you laugh, didn't it?