Full Service Contractor

I saw this magnetic tag on a truck in one of BWI's parking lots yesterday. The picture hasn't been photoshopped in any way. This could be better than Asian massage parlors or topless maid services:

The Empire Strokes Black

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

It is a period of civil war. Rebel spaceships, striking from a hidden base, have won their first victory against the evil Galactic Empire.


During the battle, Rebel spies managed to steal secret plans to the Empire's ultimate weapon, the Dong Star, an armored space station with enough power to destroy an entire planet.

In response to the ominous threat posed by the Dong Star, the Rebels dispatched their most trusted agent to destroy the menace.

Unfortunately, the Dong Star's defenses were too stout for R2D2's head-mounted reach around/roach clip attachment. Thus, the wily robot resorted to showing Darth Vader episodes of Battlestar Galactica until certain gayness resulted.

Once Darth Vader had been converted to the "other" dark side, R2D2 implemented his devious plan.


R2's plan met with some initial resistance, until he used the Force.


Thus, the Dong Star was rendered harmless and the Rebels lived to fight another day.



Stay tuned for the sequel in this compelling TaterPorn trilogy: Return of the Redeye.

I Must Have Pissed Off God

I'm not a particularly religious man, but on the on the other hand I'm not a complete idiot either. Consequently, there have been situations where I thought that God or whomever was talking directly to me and today was one of them. The object of the day was to travel to North Carolina for an interview with a corporate psychologist of a prospective employer.This should have been simple - go to the airport, fly to NC, and return. Yet, through what I believe was Divine Intervention, every single aspect of the process turned into a nightmare.

My flight was scheduled to leave at 8:50AM, so I needed to check-in at the airport by 7:50AM. Thus, I left my apartment at 7:00AM. When I went to start my car, which is the car that has given me little trouble in the 4 years that I've owned it, it would turn over, but not start. This indicates that the battery is good, so the problem is more sinister and not easily remedied while wearing a suit. Although, prior experience told me that I was taking the first step on a Evil Shit Train, I persevered and took a $65 taxi ride to BWI.

The fog that was present this morning caused most Baltimore Beltway drivers to drive like two-twatted nancyboys. Thus, I didn't get to the airport until 8:25AM, which was 25 minutes before departure. As a result, I cut a bunch of people at the check-in line only to find out that the flight was canceled. I was booked on a flight that left at 10:30 AM, which still gave me an hour upon arrival to get to the company's headquarters building.

Once I checked in and got to the gate, I saw my current employer's Vice President of Sales. Of course, we were on the same flight, so there was no way that I could board the plane and not have him see me - see me in a suit, which can only mean one thing. I wasn't sure if he'd seen me or not, so I boarded and had to walk right past him. Should he mention this tomorrow I will be terminated without delay.

The flight was delayed by 40 minutes. Thus I arrived in NC at 12:30 PM, leaving me 30 minutes to get a car and find the company's headquarters in an unfamiliar city. Nevertheless, I got the car and commenced a 60-80mph race on city streets. At 1:04 PM, I was about 3 miles from my destination, when my cell phone rings and it's the corporate psychologist. He starts with, "TFG, did we have a scheduling conflict, because I show that we were supposed to interview at 1PM. I was under the impression that you'd be in NC today" I tell him that my flight was cancelled and I'd be there in 10 minutes to which replied in an irritated tone, "Well, I guess I can wait." I contemplated replying, "Yes, you need to wait. Not so much for the interview, but so I can beat the living donkeyshit out of you with a rusty length of chain-link." However, this might have skewed my psych evaluation and I was fresh out of chain-link, so I just drove on.

After all of the above bullshit, I get there and this guy turns out to be a complete douche. He gave me some half-assed IQ test and asked a bunch of condescending questions trying to get me to admit that I'm a people-hating prick. Although this is mighty true, I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction. The whole thing lasted 1.5 hours.

WTF??? In other words, I may well be fired tomorrow, because some douchebag needed to justify his existence by trying to figure out whether I am going to dip my nuts in the office coffee urn. While the answer is emphatically yes, he could have simply called me in Baltimore and I would have told him all about it. The next time God tells me not do something, I'm going to listen.

It's 11:30. Do You Know Where Your Meat Is?

The following e-mail was sent to all of the employees at my workplace. This is particularly troubling because I work in suburban Baltimore. The only portions that have been edited are in blue italics.

From: Office Refrigerator Administrator
Sent: Thursday, December 07, 2006 11:27 AM
To: All
Subject: MEAT IN THE FREEZER/ENG. REFRIGERATOR

All,
There is meat in the freezer outside XXXXXX’s office. It is “wild game” steaks and a roast. Hopefully it is deer meat.There is no date on the meat or anyone’s name.If this meat belongs to you, please take it home.

Assclown1 and Assclown2 have expressed an interest in taking it home. If no one claims it soon, it will be given to them. If you can think of anyone who may have put the meat in the freezer, please let them know.

Thank you,
Office Refrigerator Administrator

In light of the fact that several of my co-workers are quite capable of serial murder, what kind of moron ques up to take home a slab of mystery meat from the office fridge? Sweet Jesus, I need a new job.

I Warned You Bastards

In my last post, I included the following disclaimer:

I'm speaking figuratively, of course. If any of this wacky shit shows up at my house/workplace, I will come visit you personally with the EZE Castrator Kit. Merry Christmas.

Of course, I thought that such a warning was an unnecessary precaution, since it should be readily apparent that I was joking about the contents of the post. However, after a year of blogging, I've learned that no precaution is too trivial, which was clearly demonstrated when I received this:


This is so wrong on many levels. First, as a childless, 34 year old man, I have little use for diaper rash ointment. Sure, I like to accessorize my wardrobe with Depends now and again, but it's not the type of day to day use that causes irritation. Moreover, if you inspect the photo closely, you'll notice that I wasn't even given a new tube of Butt Paste. It's disturbing enough that some of you would re-gift assbutter, but the fact that half of the tube has been consumed is truly troubling. The "icing on the cake" occurred when I went to exact my revenge. It turned out that the offender didn't even have the common decency to have the proper anatomical attributes to allow the effective use of the EZE Castrator Kit.

In conclusion, I am compelled to express my sincere disappointment in some your judgement or lack thereof. I am certain that I could rant about this for hours, but I really don't have the time, as I, apparently, have some shopping to do: