The Czar in Winter

The time is 9:25 and I am listening to a song by the Jayhawks. Ok, I’m not actually listening to it, but it is stuck in my head, and for a person with O.C.D. that is as good as listening to it. We have a full plate today folks. We have ski talk, one great moment in O.C.D. history as well as interesting shoe devices. So let us begin without hesitation.

Blogski

So I went snow skiing last weekend. Yes, you can do that an hour or so away from where I live, yet another nice thing about living out here.

I said I went skiing and I was just about the only person on the mountain who was. Everyone else, and I mean darn near everyone else, was snowboarding. I felt totally out of place and very uncool. Then I took a good look at myself and remembered that I was uncool and so this was pretty much a normal feeling for me.

When I was younger and first started skiing, only potheads and punks snowboarded. Now everyone does and I thought this weird. I then realized that I am in California, where nearly everybody is a pothead or punk, so what else did I expect? (I know, I know, we have gay people here to, but they didn’t fit with my skiing routine.)

In addition to all of this I got sunburned too. This should come as no surprise to anyoen and let’s just say the snow wasn’t the whitest thing on the mountain. I hate that it is 40 degrees out in the middle of the winter and I can get still sunburned, doubly so due to the sun reflecting off the snow. Sunburn is the kind of thing that should be summer only. Beaches, camping, swimming etc. I should be immune to it in winter.

Speaking of colors, I noticed once again that the black man does NOT like skiing. Every time I go I notice this, it is all whites and Asians on the slopes. I saw maybe 4 black people and oddly enough all had dreadlocks. Hince I arrived at the conclusion that dreadlocks = extreme sports in the black community.

I asked a couple of my black friends back in Dallas about this once and they both said the same thing. That black people don’t ski because A. It is to freakin’ cold and B. the white people gots to be crazy to go flying down the side of a mountain with boards strapped to our feet.

They said black people think we are nuts to go sky diving, bungee jumping, snowboarding, rock climbing, mountain biking or any other extreme sport, unless they have dreadlocks of course.

I informed my black friends it’s not because we are crazy, although many of us are, but that since black people dominate football, basketball and baseball (golf now too-thanks Tiger) that us whities needed to create new sports that we could be good at.

I do have one thing from this trip…

Great Moments in O.C.D. History –

So one of the guys in my cabin brought some flip flops for him to wear in the shower. I did not. (Ok that makes two great moments because I had to stand in the nasty public use shower with no shoes on but I digress.) Anyway, they are some popular brand design whose name I can’t remember. He showed them to us and then said, “Look, check out the bottom.” He lifted raised the flip flop up and low and behold, on the bottom was a little nook cut out of the foam and in the little nook was a bottle opener!

I laughed because nothing says frat boy like the emergency bottle opener. Then I realized to my horror that people somewhere have actually used this invention. I told the guy, “dude, that’s disgusting. Think about all the nasty germs on the ground. Think about the floor inside the men’s bathrooms. Would you really use that to open something going in your mouth?” He laughed and agreed it was pretty gross. I can’t believe anybody would even think of such a thing. The guy then went on to tell me that they make one version that has a little flask in the heel you can drink out of. I would call that the Boot Liquor model. It is probably even worse then the bottle opener.

So that got me thinking.

What other great items could we build into shoes?

-A pop out knife blade, like the Joker had in Dark Knight. This would my preferred shoe device.

-A condom. This would be the other shoe the frat boys could wear. It would compliment the bottle opener well.

-A corkscrew, the next obvious choice as well.

-A cigarette lighter. It might melt the rubber of the shoe but it would be a great opener with girls. “Hey mister, got a light?” You lift up your shoe “Boy do I.”

-The new Apple I Crocs with a built in MP3 Player. Just plug your headphones into your heals and jog away. Dare I make a joke about soul music?

Really the list can go on and on. Mace, lipstick, garlic (for vampires or emergency food seasoning), screwdrivers, pens or pencils, Napalm, compass, deck of cards, GPS, flash drives, you name it and you can probably fit it into a shoe.

Of course, Maxwell Smart had the shoe phone and I once read a G.I. Joe comic book where Snake Eyes was captured and thrown in a jail cell. He kept a saw blade in one shoe that he used to cut through the bars and sneak out. Brilliant.

Once my brother even kept Skittles in his socks and shoes, an infamous story those that know him can ask him about.

So you see we could really be onto something here and I could be heading for the big time. Anyways gang that is about it for now. If you are offended by the term “black” people as used earlier then I suggest you reread this and substitute the words “African American” wherever you see the word, “black. Then you won’t be offended. Later.

The time is 4:07 and I am listening to Ray LaMontagne. The Ray LaMontagne CD I have is currently jammed in my 5 disk changer and refuses to open or change disks. I do not blame Ray for this; I am merely stating the facts. So I am using the MP3s on my laptop. Well this is my first attempt at a weekly blog. I have a new product to sell you on as well as V-Day talk. So without delay I give you…

Adventures with VD. (That’s Valentines Day sickos)

So my church does this deal every year where the singles “volunteer” to baby-sit peoples kids at the church as a ministry to married couple. I was even asked if I wanted to do it and I was like, “are you kidding me? This is so lame.” It is like saying, hey you singles, you have nothing better to do today, why don’t you watch our kids for us so we can go make out or something. You know, I am all for helping people in need. Really helping people. I helped remodel a house for single moms recovering from alcohol and drug addiction, I helped with a Christmas party for foster kids, but this? Come on, give me something real to do.

People tell say I should go to this thing to meet chicks but I don’t want to. It strikes me as being the very wrong reason to go. I heard there were about 97 singles that signed up and to be honest, I hate meat markets, which is what this would become. I mean a veritable feeding frenzy. I hate feeling like I am in some competition with other guys just say hi to some girl,

Now lets be honest here, it sucks to be single on V-Day and there is no getting around it without the use of Vodka. Ministry is designed to help meet peoples’ needs and who is in greater need here? Married people, who have somebody to be with? Or singles, who don’t? The answer is obviously singles. So I think the situation should be reversed. I think the married people should do something for the single people on V.D. THAT would be a real ministry right there.

I know I sound bitter and dangit all I am.

So what did I do? I moved into our new house and had On the Border with my roommates. I don’t think we looked too gay though. Next time we will go to Laguna.

Hair Raising Ideas to Plug.

SO I have this idea and I am pretty sure I can get rich off of it. The idea came to me when I was admiring my hair in the mirror the other day and I was lamenting the fact that I am slowly losing it all. I have always loved my red hair and I suspect it is the secret to my powers. So you can understand my concern over losing it.

I thought that if I could save my hair and use it later then I would, and that is when it occurred to me. I can start a business for men going bald. They can grow their hair out long, we then cut it off and store it for them, then when they go bald they come back to us and we make their saved hair into a wig for them! I might be able to even make plugs for them. We could develop a scientific process to freeze the hair and preserve it, like cryogenics or something like that. I would call it Follicle Freezing or Hairgenics or something controversial like that. I know I would make millions though.

Well that about wraps up this round of short bloggings. Stay tuned to next time fair citizens and remember: Happy F-ing Valentines day!

A Greater Moment in O.C.D. History

The time is 4:13 P.M and I am being force to listen to Puff the Magic Dragon by Peter, Paul, and Mary. I left my headphones in the car and I am sitting right over the speakers at this organic coffee shop. Probably what I get for going to an organic coffee shop anyways. So we have a first in New Prussia, an addendum to my last entry if you will. I don’t think I have had an update before as opposed to new entries all together, but considering the circumstances I would call it appropriate. So now I give you the first ever….

Great Moments In O.C.D. History Update:

So my last entry discussed the fact that I hate the bathroom key all the clients have to take with them into the bathroom at work. The receptionist keeps the vile, germ encrusted, thing on the desk and I avoid it at all costs. Anyway, they moved the marketing dept. and human resources into another office set across the hall next to the restrooms. We also have a large conference room and computer training room in our side of the building. My desk sits out in the open where every one has to pass through. I look kind of like a receptionist but I am not at all. So the partners were all meeting in the conference room and one of them walks out and says, “Jeff, do you have a restroom key?” I said “no.”. (I have my own personal one but no general one.)

“Well, we need to get you one for people over here.” She said.

“Like hell you do.” Was what I nearly responded. Instead I swallowed my anxiety and squeaked out a feeble “sure.”

The next day the H.R. woman walks up to my desk and places a key on it. Now whenever anyone in our area needs to go they grab this key and take it with them. Of course, they set it back down on my desk when done with it. They plague filled thing just sits there like the coiled Cobra I mentioned in the last entry, just watching and waiting for me to get to get within striking distance. The irony here is killing me. I mean this is the type of irony Shakespeare would be jealous of. This literally happened the very day after I posted about how I hate the public use key. I can’t believe the rotten, crappy luck I have. I don’t even want to be near it or breath the air around it, let alone touch it.

On the plus side I have thought of a way to have fun with. I will appoint myself the keeper of the key. In order for people to use it they must either A. Solve a riddle or a puzzle or B. Bring me some kind of gift or offering. This has all sorts of potential. I could wear a dark cloak, grow a long beard and use a quill pen on parchment paper to write the list of users down. If they don’t do one of those two things they can’t go to the bathroom. Simple enough and I win either way.

I have decided to try and blog more. Instead of doing one really long blog every month I am going to try and do more short quick hits. We shall see how it goes. Later gang.

Twice the germs! Twice the fun!

The time is 5:45 and I am listening to reggae of some sorts. It is playing at the Starbucks I am at. Oh, the Starbucks I am at happens to be overlooking Laguna Beach. The weather is 60 degrees, the breeze is refreshing and the sun just finished setting. Whenever I wonder why I am paying out the butt to live in SoCal, I just need to come down here and remind myself. It’s weird, I have been here almost a year now but I have only been to the beach four or five times. I think I should make a pledge to go the beach once a month to write and/or brainstorm and check out chicks. Of course, somehow this time I ended up driving down to Laguna with a guy I am friends with. I kid you not, this is the gayest thing I have done in a long time. It was near sunset and all along the boardwalk were these cute little couples cuddling and watching the sun set into the ocean, and here I am leaning against the rail with this dude. (Technically we were watching the surfers.) Then we went to Starbucks afterwards and sat outside and talked for awhile. It was such a romantic evening. Since then at least half a dozen people have told me Laguna is a popular spot for homosexuals. I swear I am never going down there without a girl again.


And now it’s time for…

Great Moments in OCD History!

Fair citizens, I delight you today with not one, but two, great moments in OCD history. The first involves me personally, the second does not, but I digress, so let us begin. Due to the layout of the building I work in, the restrooms are outside of the building, sort of like a gas station. This means they stay locked for safety reasons. Their being locked has the unfortunate side effect of having to have a key to open it. Now everyone who works here has their own key, but clients, clients are different, they have to use the general purpose key kept at the receptionist desk, much like the school hall pass or something. So I found myself being the only one up front when a client comes in and asks for the key. Fear rises within me. I mean, different people are taking this thing to the bathroom with them. I HOPE they leave it on the sink counter, but probably they set it on the filthy toilet or on the toilet paper dispenser. For all I know, they could have dropped it in the toilet itself. This poses quiet a problem for me. I eye it suspiciously on the desk, sitting there like a coiled viper, waiting to bite me. I briefly consider giving him my key, but my key is clean and kept safely in my pocket. No one is allowed to use my key, lest they contaminate it and make it ceremonially unclean. I slowly reach for the key, anxiety building. Right when I touch it the snake bites. What did I just expose myself to? Hundred of diseases could be crawling all over it, from scurvy to Ebola. I was sure to die a painful death. I hand him the keys and tell him to go quickly go God’s sake, get out of here! I then calmly walk out of the room until I round the corner. Then I hauled ass to the kitchen, lathered my hands up, scrubbed them for thirty seconds, rinsed them and repeated the process one more time. Hopefully I will live, but don’t send flowers if I die, instead make a generous donation to the OCD of America Foundation.


The second story is a first for Great Moments because it doesn’t involve me directly but rather a story I read that troubled me greatly. So yesterday I read about two survivors who had been afloat at sea for 25 days after their fishing ship had sunken somewhere around Indonesia/Australia. They said that everyone else drowned, but as the ship was going down, they saw a cooler, yes a cooler, about the size of a desk floating out of the ship, so they swam to it and got inside it. They floated in this thing, in shark infested waters for 25 days and somehow survived. The article said that they were dehydrated and that currently doctors were trying to find out how they survived and what they drank to stay alive. What they drank to stay alive?? Out in the sea for 25 days!! The answer should be obvious to anyone! THEIR URINE! They had to right? I mean the body can’t go more then a few days without water and salt water is no good, so what else is there? I’m pretty sure this cooler wasn’t filled with Desani or Miller Lite. Immediately, to my horror, I realized this is what must have happened and I wanted to puke. I tried to picture myself in this situation. (Why I have no idea) Cupping my hands, lifting the warm liquid to my lips, you get the picture, and as the anxiety of just thinking about it rose I realized that if I was ever lost at sea, I would be just as good as dead. Not even to get out of the deepest darkest pit of some grotesque, unimaginable hell would I drink urine. If God appeared to me and said, “Verily Jefferson, I say unto thee, in order to pass through the pearly gates and have an inheritance in mine kingdom, all ye has to do is drinketh up of thine own urine,” (This is the KJV of the Lord, not the NAS, NIV and certainly not the Message.) then I would be damned straight to hell.
If I was in a cooler floating in shark infested waters I would do my best to attract a shark and throw myself at it, hoping it will end me quickly rather then drink the lemonade of death. Of course, the worst assumption here on my part is that they drank their OWN urine, the alternative, yeah, we aren’t going to go there.

You Got To Have Faith:
I think it would be funny if there was a faith healer who healed appliances and electronics instead of people. I can see it now, a long, line of people bringing in busted printers, blown speakers, VCR’s, coffee pots, 8 track players, Commodore 64’s, and lots of HP Desktops. He would lay hands on them, say a prayer and yell “Be healed!” and lo, they would work! Instead of just blowing on them like Benny Hinn does he could just use a can of condensed air that you use for cleaning keyboards. Just spray on the Spirit and bam! It is healed! Now that is somebody I would tithe to.


Well folks that about does it for this entry. Hope you enjoyed it and catch you next.

Blast From the Past.

The time is 10:30 P.M. and I am listening to The Muse. We have a few things we can discuss tonight and I might not get to them all but we shall see. For one, we can talk about my new job a bit, also random Obama paraphernalia, gay protests, charismatic faith healers, possibly Michael Phelps, or eve an email scam I chanced upon in my inbox. Let’s start with the email.

So I have been getting a lot of spam mail the last few months and they are getting annoying. Sometimes they are cleverly labeled like “Are you that guy I used to pick on in Jr. High? (The answer is probably)” and “Are you that nerdy guy with the pimples from math class?” (The answer to this is definitely.) So much to my curiosity I opened my inbox and saw an email titled, “Hey it’s Erin…remember me?” I thought really hard for a moment, yes, I had known a couple of Erin’s in the past. At the same time however a cautious warning that it could be an invitation to porn crossed my mind. My curiosity, among other things, was aroused, so I immediately opened it. This is what I read.

“It’s been awhile, Almost 2 years now I think! This still you? What have you been up to? Still single? I have been with my GF for just about 2 years now! We met a little while after you and I stopped talking.”

I thought, okay this has to be porn related but I will make sure. So I read on:

“She’s really great and is the reason I am messaging you... her bday is coming up and since we are both into men I thought it would be fun to set some fun up for us as a present! I remembered how hot you are…”

I would just like to state that when she said, “I remembered how hot you are…” it became painfully obvious that this was a hoax. No girl from my past still in her right mind would call me hot. On a very nice day, if they are feeling generous, I might get a cute, but never a hot. I will let you finish reading the rest of the email if you are curious.

“…And was wondering if you were still interested in meeting us and taking it even further hehe”

Hehe indeed. I mean seriously, this is the kind of low grade, hack job, crappy writing I am supposed to fall subject to? I should be offended, no rising action, (Hehe, no pun here either) no antagonist/protagonist, no sense of irony, please spare me the Harlequin details. Anyway, there was a link there that I did not post here lest you may stumble, nor did I follow it myself. I can’t actually prove that I didn’t, so you will just have to trust me.

Gay Day: So I am sure you are all familiar with the recent protests for gay marriage. One such protest came to my attention from a newspaper in San Francisco. It stated that on a certain day this year every gay person “call in gay to work” and not show up to protest their rights. They were calling it A Day Without A Gay. I don’t know if this plan really ever happened or if it was just a possibility. It is pretty darn funny though. So if this is like calling in sick are they equating homosexuality to a sickness? We discussed this issue at work and we decided this would actually work against their cause because all their co-workers would be pissed at having to cover their jobs while they “Called in Gay.” Besides, if they actually went a day without gays, then every Disney store in the world would all be closed since at once. We also thought that, given the bad job market, calling in to work was not a wise idea. However, I have to say, “A Day Without A Gay” is better then their original idea which was “A Year Without A Queer.”

ODD JOBS:
So I have a new job as you all should know by now. It is pretty cool and the people I work with seem nice enough. They are letting me pretty much design their intranet site, which leaves me with loads of tantalizing possibilities. I have a cubbie (much like a cubicle but made of dry wall.) It has a window and faces my boss’s office. I have a cubbie hole? I have never had one before. What should I do with it? This leaves me in a conundrum of sorts. Everyone knows when you have an office, there are certain obligatory items that you must put in it, that more or less define you, or at least give off clues about yourself. Pictures of family or pets, bobble head dolls, sports stuff, little figurines or signs along with a whole myriad of other possibilities. So I will ask you dear reader, what should I put in my cubbie that defines me?

I know what you are thinking, a map of Middle Earth, Cobra Commander figure, a model Tie Fighter, a poster of a hot elf chick licking a dagger and maybe some multi-sided dice. But I have a chance here to be creative and not let them see me as a nerd just yet. Specifically, there are two special points of interest: the screen saver, and the calendar.

My current screen saver says, “Dell” on it and the current calendar hanging on my wall is a “Waterfalls of the World” one. I was at least hoping for a “Large rocks of the earth,” one but no, I get water. So I ask for your suggestions. My current laptop background is the picture of me with my Russian hat and German coat on. I call it the Czar picture and my friend Faith took it a few years ago. Maybe I should just use it for my screensaver. As for a calendar, how about the Far Side daily calendar or possibly a homemade "Cats I Have Loved" calendar. You decide.

So I am sitting at work on Friday and my boss walks in with a box and says, “Jeff, here are your business cards.” And I’m like, “I get business cards?!?! HELL YEAH!!!!” Was more or less my response. I have business cards now. I feel so grown up and professional. It says Jeff Jordan on it and has our company and logo etc on it. I was hoping it said, R. Jefferson Jordan, ESQ, Marketer Extraordinaire on it, but alas it didn’t. I latter asked an attorney friend of mine if Esquire was saved only for attorneys and she said, “yes. Damn lawyers, why do they get all the cool titles.

Anyway, I get business cards! I can’t wait to start handing them out to hot girls I meet on chance encounters. The real trick I have to learn is how to sneak in and leave some in women’s restrooms without getting caught. Sounds like a great way to meet chicks in my opinion.

I also have to bring a gag gift for the company white elephant party next week. I am brainstorming.

What to take a bunch of accountants? Maybe pocket protectors. One co-worker went online and found a black bobble head Jesus that looks like Snoop Dog. I totally want this. I have been debating collecting weird stuff anyway and I think that would fit right in.

Well gang that is about it for now. As you see from my first paragraph I have plenty of material to pull from for another blog or two. Until then Merry Christmas and Happy New Year and all that.