Who's the Barber Here?

Who's the Failure?

2011-01-09T08:18:00.001-08:00

PG&E isn't the only one suspectible to failure here.

Verizon Wireless Wanted My Opinion

2011-01-05T21:39:00.000-08:00

Oh boy. Verizon Wireless wanted to know how likely I am to recommend them to a friend. So I clicked on their survey link and gave them a neutral rating, they asked me to expound. So I did. But I'm wondering if others share my opinion of Verizon Wireless and the industry in general. Here's what I wrote.

It's hard not to compare giant telecom companies in terms which is the least evil. Verizon is a terrifically efficient money extraction machine. Not that the others aren't, but despite the decent coverage in my area and better customer service than most, there absolutely no question that Verizon exists only to get my money.

If you want to foster brand loyalty, you gotta give a little. Take MiFi for example. I'd buy one in a heartbeat if you'd let me use my existing data plan, or at least cut me a good deal on the monthly expense. But when I'm already paying you $150 a month, there's no way I'm going to kick down another $50. Or they way you hold back technology. I remember when you were disabling bluetooth in phones (an exec at the time told the press your customers didn't want it), and holding the GPS chip in my old Blackberry hostage unless I paid $10/mo for VZ Navigator. And when I got my Droid a year ago, Verizon spokesperson Brenda Raney stated that tethering would become available in 2010. I bought that phone largely because I wanted to show Verizon that many of your customers will pay for phones that aren't hobbled. Then, in August of 2010 the company announces a change of heart. Want to tether? Buy another phone.

It's all those little digs that undermine brand loyalty. Customers know where we stand. No wireless company has ever demonstrated a sense of loyalty to me, so it shouldn't be hard to understand why your industry can't seem to keep customers from jumping ship. I think it's naively sweet that you posted this survey, but I'm pretty sure Verizon's executive team and board of directors don't care what the customers think as long as we're still paying up.

Then they asked if I could use my comments in their marketing materials. So THAT'S what this was about! They're going to scan the comments of the people who rated them highly and ignore the whiners like me. I've been suckered again.

These Instructions are Mocking Me!

2010-11-15T09:12:00.001-08:00

Your humble author is pretty good with technology. I've managed to make a little business out of my skills and provide for my family, even. What I'm not is handy. Not even a little. I once changed out the flush mechanism in a toilet and, drunk on my sense of accomplishment, attempted to change out another one. I had, in fact, been lucky. and a few hours into the second attempt I called a plumber. He was a nice enough guy, but dispensed with diplomacy when he told me my plumbing skills were so bad, I really ought to steer clear of garden hoses. Other failures include 6 hours attempting to install a car stereo (cost me $200 to have it removed and installed correctly), and a kitchen flooring project that stalled for 5 months at phase 1. That one cost $1,200 to correct. Point is, I really, really, suck at most tasks that require tools.
One day last spring, my darling comes home with a new gas grill. In a box. In pieces. And it's my job to assemble it. Gamely, I unpack the box and start looking through the assembly instructions. It doesn't look good from page 1. By page 6 I'm becoming concerned for my safety. By page 10, I'm becoming concerned for my neighborhood's safety. Then I land on page 12- the exploded diagram showing parts A through SS. To a guy like me, that's fiendishly complicated. Click on that picture above to see it and be sure to read that sentence at the bottom. "Estimated assembly time: 30 minutes." Are you freaking kidding me? That's not an estimate, that's a taunt and a mean spirited lie!
Eventually– very eventually- I got the thing put together and working correctly. Well I'm assuming it's working correctly only because we haven't yet experienced any property damage or injury related to use of the grill. And how long did it take me? Three hours, not counting cleanup time.

QuackBooks Pro

2010-11-10T16:33:00.000-08:00

I was working on a review of QuickBooks for Mac this week. Intuit, the money extraction regime- er, company that makes the product has never made the Mac version comparable to, or even fully compatible with, the Windows edition. Researching the latest release, I looked for an indication that they'd made some strides toward better compatibility. Short answer: they haven't.

But I did manage to dig up this little gem of a chart. Some "Key Features" of QB for Mac just aren't available on Windows. Those first three features integrate with Apple software and services that don't exist on Windows. So, yeah, take that Windows users! Your QuickBooks can't integrate with software for a computer you don't own! Snap!

More interesting yet is Key Feature number 4. According to the chart, Mac users can share data with their accountants and Windows-based users, but Windows-based users can't share data with Windows-based users. I'm sure it was a simple oversight on Intuit's part and Windows users will be able to share data among themselves for a $39 monthly fee paid annually.

But my favorite by far is Key Feature five. Pity the poor Pee Cee drone trying with grit, determination and earnestness to become a more confident QuickBooks for Mac user. If only our hapless hero had checked in advance! He would have known that you just can't become a more confident QuickBooks for Mac user if you use QuickBooks for Windows.

You just know that some jackass marketing director brayed incessantly "give me five key features or you'll be looking for another entry level job!"

It's not you, it's me. Actually it's FailSafe™ MEGA E&O insurance.

2010-10-12T17:37:00.000-07:00

I just got an oddly worded letter from my business insurance company. I carry something called "Error and Omission" insurance which is akin to malpractice coverage for nerds. For context, consider that I've had a policy with this company for five years, my business model hasn't changed in that time and I've never made a claim of any kind.

Perusing the letter, the following statements appear in the order presented.

They value me.
The success of my business is their top priority.
They'll be there when I need them.
They want to continue to provide my insurance coverage.
They're dropping the only part of the policy I really care about.
They look forward to continuing our relationship.

I weep for the jilted lover who gets dumped by the Cyrano de Bureaucrat who authored this breakup letter.

Juxtaposition of Incongruent Images

2010-09-24T18:29:00.001-07:00

So I open up my email from Costco, which, like my beloved SkyMall, is full of the most random assortment of products thrown together in no particular order. And I come across this little gem. The Trojan Pleasure Pack is on sale this week. Someone in the art department must have been concerned that the only product shot they had wouldn't scale up nicely. So what's an artist on deadline to do? Quickly! To the stock photography! Here's how I imagine the process went.

2:37 PM - "OK, gotta get a picture for these sausage casings."
2:43 - "Too bland."
2:59 - "Too 70s."
3:12 - "Too many dudes."
3:38 - "Too much oil."
3:53 - "Legal might have to OK that one."
4:17 - "Oh God!! My eyes! It burns! It burns!"
4:42 - "Almost out of time. Gotta come up with sexy but not offensive."
4:59 - To boss: "I did not rush through this! That's a sexy laboratory, man."
5:01 - Unicorn Chaser

Instrucciones en Espanol

2010-09-17T11:51:00.000-07:00

Hey there Spanish speakers! Looking for a new cabezal de la ducha? We've got you covered. And just in case you can't figure out the directions, there's a title just for you!
-Thank you Pamela Starbuck for the contribution

New Term: Face-baiting

2010-08-31T12:11:00.000-07:00

Face-baiting v. The act of posting a vague status update for the purpose of eliciting a response, particularly when the topic wouldn't normally merit any comments. Examples:

Polly Anna: Wow! Just Wow! 4 hours ago

In this post, the author has experienced some sort of dramatic event, but rather than just say it, she's opted to tease her friends. Not knowing if it's good or bad, some will comment asking if everything's OK. When they find out that Polly's amazement was at the cost of Disneyland tickets, they're annoyed by the wasted time and needless concern.

H. Po-Condriac: this time I think it's real 2 min. ago via Facebook for iPhone

Here, our status posting friend has indicated that something quite grave is underway. What could "it" possibly be? The paucity of capital letters and punctuation suggest that whatever is in play here has ominous overtones. In reality, the poster has just been diagnosed with his first pre-cancerous skin lesion which will be removed on the spot with no lingering ill effects.

Astair Gazer: Our for drinks w/ @thewilson. You will NOT believe who we just saw! 17 min. ago via Twitware

Ooh! Ohh! Who did you see!? I'm on pins and needles just shivering with anticipation. Did <powerful politician> come shake your hand? Did <famous athlete> just compliment your awesome jersey? Perhaps <beloved rock star> high-fived you in admiration of your air-drum prowess. Alas. Gazer and @thewilson actually saw Soliel Moon Frye. You know. TV's lovable "Punky Brewster?" She's having a girls night out and some of these crazy ladies are on their second glasses of pinot. Sounds like her oldest is going into kindergarten already! Someone call TMZ!

There's no escape– oh wait.

2010-07-01T19:49:00.000-07:00

I was on a public transportation odyssey today when I came across this curious gate. One can envision an apocalyptic scene of overturned and burning cars, crumbling buildings, brimstone raining down from the sky and marauding packs of dogs. And the desperate citizenry lined up, single file, to exit through the gate.

Childrens is Learning

2010-06-25T18:17:00.000-07:00

That headline appeared in my local paper's website a while back. It refers to a blog post by some guy who ranked a bunch of major cities by college graduate density. Now maybe the appalling grammar and quote marks around "smartest" are intentional. Just one paper's dig at a very progressive city that's become a favorite conservative whipping post.

Unfortunately, my local paper is actually The San Francisco Chronicle. So much for smarts.

How To Pay For Something That's Free But Isn't Really Anything

2010-06-25T18:08:00.000-07:00

I saw a 7-11 ad on a bus today that read "Free Virtual Gift with Taquito Purchase." Where to begin? I consulted my dictionary to be certain, and it confirms that a gift is "a thing given willingly to someone without payment." Which suggests that a "free gift" is redundant like an "automatic ATM machine."

But wait, this alleged gift is presented to you only if you purchase a taquito. So 7-11 isn't going to willingly give you this thing without payment for your taquito. The "free gift" is actually something they're going to include with the purchase of a taquito without an additional charge. Free-ish, but you still have to part with some cash.

The questionable freeness of the gift notwithstanding, there's the matter of reality. Does a virtual gift have any value? Sure, some design and coding effort went into its creation, but with the ability to create hundreds of millions of copies with negligible effort or cost, do you really have something of worth? And if you give up your WhateverVille account, you don't get to keep your gift that wasn't real to begin with.

In the end, then, you're buying a nasty-ass 7-11 taquito and receiving access to some computer code for as long as you maintain the FriendFace application that runs it. Score.

Stuart's Sky Mall Game

2010-03-15T15:05:00.000-07:00

I admit it. When I fly, I enthusiastically dive into the Sky Mall catalog. I adore it's randomness. There aren't many catalogs where you can find a $400 foot squisher and a two foot tall Bigfoot statue in the same pages. Inspired by its strangeness and by my beloved parody Sky Maul (Shop 'Till You Drop...From the Sky!™) I came up with the Sky Mall game.

Open SkyMall to any given page. Drawing only from that page and the one facing it, string together a few phrases of your choice. Grammar modifications for things like plurality and subject-verb agreement are OK. Here are a couple from my flight last Saturday.

p. 44-45 The removable pivoting kettle is more of a pleasure when encased in rich leather. Integrated two-slice toaster with special bagel setting does the rest, no plumbing required.

p.38-39 Unlike plastic pet fountains, this forms gently to the shape of your thigh. The falling stream attracts pets which are suctioned by a 22,400 RPM motor.

p. 28-29 This portable device analyzes your dog's DNA and allows you to convert your cherished antimicrobial artificial turf at up to 300 dpi resolution. Integrated diffuser screen gives dogs a place to relieve themselves.

p. 22-23 Nobody needs to know about your notorious and gripping run-ins with your baby in the dark.Calm them behind a bookcase or beneath a couch.

p. 24-25 Impress your friends with work, stress, drinking, and harmful UV rays. A simple swab of your inner cheek turns even the hardest wood into mold and mildew.

This could work with just about any catalog, but the sheer randomness of SkyMall makes for some interesting possibilities...

It's like they're trying to tell me something.

2010-01-25T09:56:00.000-08:00

I've been getting calls supposedly from a collection agency recently. They occasionally leave messages stating they're calling on behalf of Giant Evil Credit Card Company, but usually they just ring my phone every couple hours, you know, just being friendly-like. It's surely a scam because I have an account with Giant Evil Credit Card Company that has never been over-limit or past due. Still, the concern that some jackass out there used my name to get credit and is using it to snap up Jeff Foxworthy memorabilia on eBay was enough to send me for a credit report.

So I go through the unnecessarily arduous steps to obtain my free credit report. At various stages in the process one has to prove that he's human by deciphering misshapen letters. I think, once in a while, bankers and credit card executives should have to prove humanity. Not by transcribing twisted text, but by illustrating some form of genuine kindness. Tax-deductible charity donations don't count. Something selfless and tangible. But I digress. The distorted characters I had to translate seemed to spell out their message to me and it's clear that they'll tolerate my existence as long as they're getting money out of it, but they sure don't like me.

It doesn't take too much imagination to turn FUQK 70 into FU*K YOU...

Go Bold! Or Don't!

2009-11-04T15:14:00.000-08:00

So, I'm not particularly proud of my past with Taco Bell. I mean, it was back in college and everyone gets into things they think the better of later. I was simply poor and generally unwilling to cook for myself. So Taco Bell seemed like a good fit. By my junior year, I knew which particular locations had the best burritos, fastest drive-throughs, and least-sticky floors. I was living off the stuff. These days I make my own burritos out of stuff I purchase at the grocery store, but I admit it- I buy the Taco Bell sauce. I like it because it's way less spicy than most of the others on the shelf. Which makes the label design that much more amusing. I buy this stuff because I don't want to "go bold." I want to go mild. Then I want some warm milk while I watch Matlock.

Mr. Opportunity

2009-11-02T07:00:00.000-08:00

A decade ago I bought a new Honda Civic. The nice folks at the dealership still seem to labor under the misapprehension that I'll be able to buy a new car again at some point in my life. That's looking increasingly improbable. Hope springs eternal and whatnot, so they send me postcards and letters asking for my business. Indeed, I once received a mailer with an enticing scratch-off pad. You know, like on Lottery tickets? It was from their service department and under the metallic blot was my personal service discount! I pulled a coin out of the nearest child's hand and began scratching furiously. Would I get a free tune-up? Maybe half off a timing belt replacement!

But my enthusiasm was naive and misplaced. Much like Ralphie decoding Little Orphan Annie's secret message, I was playing the chump. My personal discount was for $2 off any service. That's two dollars off. At a freaking car dealership! Somewhere, in the quietest, most remote part of my brain, the last non-cynical cell in my body cried out: "Son of a bitch!"

Which leads us to Mr. Opportunity up there. Last summer I got another solicitation from the sales department. They managed to insult my intelligence by mistaking the plural for the possessive. There was no shock or hurt this time. I'm a lot tougher now. After a disdainful snort, I made a solemn vow to myself. If I had the money for a new car, I'd take my business elsewhere.

Please Give Generously

2009-10-30T07:00:00.000-07:00

Dear friends, It's my sincere hope that you haven't personally suffered from the Lymes. Even if you haven't, you surely know a friend, family member, or acquaintance who has endured the heartbreak of Lymes. That's why I'm asking you to look into your tick-bitten heart and reach into your wallet. Please help the neediest among us. Every $2,500 (plus tax) you donate buys an hour of hyperbaric therapy for some poor Lymer. And, if you donate today, we'll send you a free "I got pressured into hyperbaric therapy" t-shirt as our gift. So please, before my next boat payment comes due, won't you give to the Lymer fund?

This Time, it's Personally

2009-10-28T14:33:00.001-07:00

It's something they take personal, huh? Well that's heartening. I just wish adverbs were something they took serious.

Sun Hats Gone Wild

2009-08-12T16:46:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm back on the sun hat kick. As my similarly melanin-challenged friend John put it " All of my hats make me think I look somewhere between a homeless guy and an asshole who beats up homeless guys." Let's look at more of the contenders.

Here's the venerable Bucket Hat. I admit having something like this, but I've already successfully reproduced and can get away with wearing it. Fellas, if you want the ladies to know that you're genes aren't suitable for passing along to a new generation. Think of it as a public service. No suitable mate here, Miss, move along.

Remember Dumb Donald? This guy doesn't.

This one is a little unsettling. When someone comes up to you in this gear it's either "give me your wallet" or "I'm going to die of a gruesome skin ailment any minute now. If I crumple right now, please look inside my hat flap for my next-of-kin's phone number."

Our final contender is the ultra-brim. And don't let the goateed model fool you. The only guys that wear these are over 40 types who came back from the doctor with precancerous lesions on their heads. Put off buying the sun hat long enough and somebody might pick up this beauty for you.

Sun Hat Connundrum

2009-06-29T18:49:00.000-07:00

Last year I lost my cancer virginity. I was diagnosed with a Basal Cell Carcinoma, also know as "The Good Cancer." And, for sure, if you have to get the big C, I'll take my tiny skin cancer over a Butterfly Glioma any day. But sreiously, the good cancer? How about the Least Bad Cancer?

I've been a hat wearer all my life, but now my hats require substantial brims and therein lies the problem. If you're a man looking for a sun hat, choices are limited to a few main styles, none of which are particularly attractive. If anybody knows of a less-lame hat style, I'd love to know about it.

Exhibit A: The Uncle Douche

Few articles of clothing impart douchebaggery as resolutely as the Panama hat. This hat says "I'm going to show up to your wedding drunk." It's the hat of the miscreant uncle or maybe Mom's boyfriend who makes the kids wait in the car for a couple hours while he "visits some friends" at the strip club.

Exhbit B: The Neo-Cowboy

About every 15 years there's a cowboy fad. First it was the late 70's with Urban Cowboy and then came the early 90's Garth Brooks stadium extravaganzas. So I guess we're about due. I can't wait to see droves of doughy sedentary work force types squeeze into jeans with huge belt buckles and doff pseudo cow-puncher headgear like this.

Exhibit C: The Chief Executive Asshole

The stony expression. The squared jaw. The narrow slits for eyes. And up top- the laser sharp lines of absolute domination. The CEA will destroy you utterly.

Exhibit D: The Jimmy Cracked Corn

Some folk'll never eat a skunk
But then again some folk'll
Like Cletus the slack jawed yokel.

More hats to come in a later post.

Cognative Dissonance

2009-05-06T19:22:00.000-07:00

Apparently the swine flu has just earned its college degree. You're probably thinking it studied microbiology with an emphasis on virology. You'd be wrong. A super star like this baby is all about the marcom. You know this bad boy is going to reinvent itself more times than Madonna.

Naughty Bits

2009-04-01T12:13:00.000-07:00

I was in my beloved San Francisco last weekend, taking the boy on a Muni ride. He doesn't really care where we go, just as long as we're on some form of light rail. I don't really care either, just as long as I have hand sanitizer.

So we're on the N-Judah rolling through the Castro when we pass Out of the Closet. For the uninitiated, OotC is a thrift store operated by the AIDS Healthcare Foundation. They describe themselves as "the world's most fabulous thrift store." There in the OotC display window was a fabulous display of racy and risqué apparal for the sexed-up set. You know, assless chaps, leather bindings, and, the most eye-catching male mannequin leaning back, hips thrust out and wearing only a sutdded leather thong (and me without my camera).

Now, I'm all for consenting adults to get into any sort of kinky mischief they want to. It beats the hell out of violence and hatred. And I don't even care that my 5 year old boy rolled past this window display. He didn't even see it and if he had it would have been meaningless to him. No, the thing that really gave me creepy heebie jeebies is the idea that somebody out there may be willing to purchase used thongs and chaps from a thrift store.

Career Counseling

2009-03-26T09:54:00.000-07:00

Umm. He's already got one...

Japanese Food Fiasco

2009-02-27T08:16:00.000-08:00

The following is a letter I sent home to my family while on a business trip to Japan.

Maybe I should have ramped up by eating a Japanese restaurants in the weeks before my departure. See, I just can't get into the food here. I'm pretty convinced it's a matter of biology and not taste. My body is actually telling me that I'm incompatible Japanese food. Yes, I am sincerely trying, but it's not working out as well as I'd hoped.

For lunch on Friday, Jason, Kojima-san, Kawazoe-san and I went to Coco's. That's right. Coco's. Same architecture, same green sign, same font for the lettering. They pronounce it "co-CO-su" but the sign reads "Coco's." Sadly for me, that sign is where the ties to home end. Even though the menu says "Coco's California Restaurant," the food is ALL Japanese. No club sandwiches, no hamburgers, no pie. Coco's without pie!! They had soup. Miso soup. Swell. So I did the only thing I could do in my position, I ordered deep fried pork.

I know what you're thinking. At least, I know what my dear mother and beloved bride must be thinking. "Surely, Stuart, in all of the Coco's menu, there must be SOMETHING more appealing and wholesome than deep fried pork." Surely there must, but you see, preceding the finalization of my menu choice was a protracted process whereby I would point to pictures in the menu and Kojima-san would tell me what it was. It went something like this:
"What is this?"
"Fish."
"How about this?"
"Fish."
"Is this chicken?"
"Fish."
"What is in--"
"Fish. How about shrimp, you eat shrimp?"
"No, but this looks good."
"Fish."
"This is fish too?"
"That is pork."

Pork! He said pork! I had to go with it. After all, he needed a chance to pick his meal too. So pork it was, a lot of pork. But I wanted to be a polite and respectful guest in Japan, so I ate it all. I even poured on the sauce Kawazoe-san suggested. It was pretty good at the time.

I've never eaten a pound of bread pudding, but the deep fried pork sat like a lump in my stomach much like I guess a pound of bread pudding would. Sheer conjecture on my part, though. When it came time to have dinner, Jason, the pork, and I were walking around a pedestrian-only shopping street. The three of us would stop at each eatery and look over the menu for something appealing. Jason, I think, could have happily found a dish at any of the restaurants. I found a few items that seemed workable, too. The pork was a lot more choosy. It wasn't about to share its space with just any meal.

Eventually, I was tired of the pork and it's onerous demands so we entered a noodle shop. At this shop, you can't talk to the guy behind the counter. I mean, you can talk to him, but he'll grunt and point to a machine behind you. We'll call it the "Waitress-o-Matic." The Waitress-o-Matic is a vending machine. As you drop coins into the slot, buttons begin to light up. If you put in 300 yen, buttons with pictures of menu items up to that price light up. I put in 500 yen and pushed number 20, a little udon and vegetable number that looked innocuous enough. The Waitress-o-Matic spit out a ticket which I handed to the grunter behind the counter. The grunter prepared my selection, placed on a tray and let out a grunt that I think meant "your udon bowl is ready, sir. Enjoy your meal." I said "arrygawtow gozymaws," and he delivered a final grunt which I took to mean "you're most welcome, sir, and if there's anything I can do to make your meal more enjoyable here at Noodle World, please don't hesitate to ask."

Well, old number 20 let me down. Fist of all, it had no cheese. I knew this going in, but a lack of cheese in any meal somehow violates my sense of propriety. But the real problem with the meal was me. I'm not used to the flavors in Japan and apparently the pork wasn't either. None of us got along. Worse, the unidentifiable vegetables and other fungi-like things atop the noodles were exotic to a fault. They looked like broccoli and green beans in the Waitress-o-Matic photo. In real life, they were freaks of nature, so repellant to the pork and I, we had to push them aside and concentrate on the noodles.

The noodles were delicious. They would have been better were they not tarred with the stigma of the repellant vegetables and broth, but I had to eat, so I decided to go after the noodles and ignore the broth and whatever that other stuff was. Instantly, my Ameri-centric mindset and life experience proved problematic.

I can't use chopsticks.

I'm not so pathetic that I didn't KNOW chopsticks are the primary utensil of Japan. I just didn't have time to think about it or practice. So now, there I was with a bowl of noodles in front of me and two wooden sticks in my right hand. I'm a messy eater when I use utensils that I've mastered (I can hear you asking me to name one utensil that I've mastered, but I won't dignify that with an answer). By the time I'd eaten all the noodles, my place at the counter looked like the scene of a food fight. Jason was sporting and tried to help me with my technique. Making an honest effort to incorporate his suggestions only embarrassed both of us, and he suggested I go back to my improvised approach.

I've never eaten two pounds of bread pudding, but the deep fried pork and the newly arrived noodles sat like a lump in my stomach much like I guess two pounds of bread pudding would. I began to wonder if there was a way to make the breakfast meal last all day.

On Saturday, Jason and I met Kawazoe-san in Tokyo. Kawazoe-san is the consummate bachelor waking late in the morning and working deep into the night. We woke him around 11 and he met us at a subway station. Around 1 pm is was time for his breakfast. Being afraid to eat, I feigned indifference to food and let the others select a place to eat. Kawazoe-san chose a small restaurant with traditional low tables and pillows on the floor for seating. It was neat to experience this.

We ordered beer and discussed the menu. Even if I could have read it, I would have been afraid to order. The pork and the noodles were no longer lumps in my gut, but I didn't want another pound-of-bread-pudding experience. So I asked that they order plain rice for me. Just a bowl of plain white rice. They ordered other food for themselves, but it turns out, they didn't really think I would only eat rice and nothing else, so they ordered enough for me too.

Sitting there, eating my plain white rice for lunch, I couldn't help but wonder if I was turning into my sister Abbie. Abbie as a child, anyway. I never really thought about it before, but maybe the food available to her as a kid left her feeling like my Japanese meals were leaving me. Maybe she wanted to eat, but nothing seemed to work out except plain white rice. Abbie, I'm sorry if I ever gave you any grief about not eating as a kid. I don't think I did, but just in case.

My big breakfast and small rice bowl got me through a 14 hour Tokyo adventure. By the time we got back to Kawagoe, we had probably walked 10 miles and it was nearly eleven at night. Our only choice for dinner was AM/PM Mini Mart. You may be shuddering, but it turns out this AM/PM was not the filthy gas station market you might expect. It was clean, well stocked, and had many food options that looked pretty decent. I selected a ham and cheese sandwich, prefabricated Belgian fries, and a Kit Kat for dessert.

It was no bean burrito, but it was the best meal I'd had yet. Even if Japanese mayonnaise is a little, um, different, the sandwich was pretty good. The fries were awesome, and the Kit Kat even better. I had found my bread basket and AM/PM was its name. But how to describe that mayonnaise? It looks just like regular mayo and tastes so close, that you might miss the difference. In fact, while I know it's not the same (independently verified and all) I can't explain the difference. You'll have to come here if you want to taste it for yourself cause I'm not packing a jar in my suitcase.

Sunday was another massive breakfast as I loaded up in anticipation of no food for the rest of the day. I walked and walked and walked on Sunday and never saw anything appealing. I'm not at a stage where I can eat at MekuDonaldo. You won't get me to eat that crap, I'm an AM/PM man! By the time I was too hungry to continue, I decided to load up on snacks and water from the grocery.

Snacking got me through the evening and in a nod to those days of bachelorhood, I walked down to the Mallard for dinner in the form of a pint of Guinness. Except the Mallard was the Windsor bar in the hotel lobby. I went in and was seated by the bartender. Guinness was the only beer they have on tap. I ordered one and set down a 1,000 Yen bill. The bartender walked over the cash register then returned to me and said "excuse me sir, it is one thousand, one hundred, sixty." In my mind I kept my cool, but in reality I may have fallen out of another chair. He has already pulled it and I really wanted it, so I fished out another 160 yen. I was determined to slowly enjoy my $10.68 beer. I took solice in two facts: the glass was an imperial pint and tipping is considered an insult in Japan. I also toasted my friend Brian in India who paid over $20 for his last Guinness. We're going out for beer when we're both stateside.

Jason joined me in the bar but it was too smoky to hang out once I'd finished my beer. He wanted a salad for dinner and that sounded pretty good to me. You can probably guess who has the best salads in Kawagoe. So we walked over to AM/PM. I picked up a green salad with lots of corn and a small amount of someone's idea of cheese. Having learned caution, I took a whiff of the dressing before pouring it over the salad. It was the nast. I opted to eat my salad dry and it wasn't that bad. Better still, the AM/PM guy put a plastic fork in my bag. How on earth people learn the dexterity to eat corn with chopsticks is a mystery to me.

The fork and I are pals now. I haven't named him, but I think I should. How can you build a relationship when one of you doesn't have a name? For now, he's Forky, but I'll come up with something more appropriate later. Forky, I realized, is my ticket to eating more food. The Bento boxes are sure to come with chopsticks, hindering my ability to eat. But having washed Forky in my bathroom sink, and retained his little plastic wrapper, the Bento scenario won't slow me down. Most restaurants will present you with a warm, moist towel when you arrive. Perfect for giving old Forky a little wipe-down at the end of the meal. So we're inseparable from now on. I'm going to keep him in my shirt pocket so he can see where we're headed. I think we should do some things that he would enjoy too, but I don't know what forks like to do. Suggestions would be appreciated.

Oh Mr. ZIP!

2009-02-06T05:00:00.000-08:00

I gotta say, the US Post Office has been good to me. I send stuff Priority Mail all the time and never have a problem with it getting there on time. Contrast that with the dreaded UPS Ground- for more money, UPS will strap your package to the abdomen of a tree sloth and route it through Lapland, regardless of final destination.

But this isn't one of those paid posts where the blogger pretends to like something in exchange for a few bucks. I do have a little bone of contention here. Look at the form above. It's the form you use to find a ZIP code for a given address. You got your address 1, address 2, city, state, and ZIP?

"Lemmie see here. I need to find the ZIP code for this address which I have a ZIP code for. If only there was some kind of Internet thingie to help."

I can hear the critics now. " Suppose you have the 5 digit zip but want to find the ZIP+4 code." Well, genius, the form is going to spit out the ZIP+4 whether or not you enter a known ZIP code. So our generally competent postal service manages to retain its bad reputation by slapping a ZIP code field on the ZIP code search page. Great Job.

PorkWHAT?

2009-02-04T11:32:00.000-08:00

Hey kids! What looks like a dirt clod, smells like poo, and is (possibly) loaded with deadly chemicals? It's Pork Sweet, The Dandy Candy Porcine Treat.™

My friend Sarah picked this up for me at a Chinese restaurant years ago. Tuned in to my love of bacon and just about anything sugary, she knew it had my name on it. Honestly, I've been afraid to taste, or even open this weird little meat nugget. It's amusing, sure, but I can't get behind the concept. Candied pig meat (that doesn't require refrigeration!) is one of those really bad food ideas like raw horseflesh ice cream or the meat gelatin abomination knows as the aspic.

Today I finally got around to opening the thing up so I could get a scan of the package. To get a feel for the sensory experience, imagine you're at the county fair. Feeling a twinge of hunger, you stride over to the livestock section and engage a pig in hand-to-hoof combat. The pig fends off your attack, but not before you manage to get a raisin-size chunk of it's flesh.

You're not going to just pop that in your mouth, though. You head over to the food carts looking for something to enhance your morsel. A quick detour to the porta-potty is a near disaster. Your pig meat slips from your grasp and into the toilet. Lucky for you, flesh floats and it's easily retrieved. Crisis averted.

Having reached the food-on-a-stick asile, your good fortune persists. The funnel cake guy just knocked over the powdered sugar shaker and there's a small pile on the ground. Rolling your piece of pork around in the sugar and dirt, it picks up a little hair and a dusty brownish hue, but who cares? You've done it. You taken simple pork and sugar, and made a culinary masterpiece.

Bon appetit.

What's This About the Nuts?

2008-12-12T07:12:00.000-08:00

Ummm. This could mean any number of things. Try a comma in various places and see what you get.

Blood Bath and Beyond

2008-12-04T17:22:00.001-08:00

I get a coupon for 20% off any single item at a large, and particularly odiferous, chain store about every third day. It's one of those "big box" stores that hangs product from floor to twenty-five foot ceiling. I suppose they want to give a "well stocked" impression. I tend to simply reel at the volume of crap they can cram into a given space.

And the smell. It's like a Yankee Candle potpourri nose enema. I lose my peripheral vision for a minute or two trying to adjust to the reek. My wife once bought a box of Whoppers from this establishment and we had to throw them out. Whatever trace of chocolate and malted milk remained was just too weak to stand up to the smell. Even if you don't buy a thing, the stench clings to your clothes and catches a ride home with you.

Yeah, I love to hate this place. That's why I never pass up the occasional crapalog they send me. It's like a down-market SkyMall and I eat it up. Imagine my delight when, and I'm not making this up, immediately adjacent to a wine-making kit, they advertise the $15 breathalyzer. I hope that's a clock on the display- if your BAL is 1.05 you're gonna wish you sprung for the $45 keychain breathalyzer. That one texts your next-of-kin when you exceed .99. And it's December. So in an increasingly unfortunate series of decisions, someone decided that a keychain breathalyzer was a corking idea, some marketing mensa singled it out for holiday giving, and in a flash of true inspiration, the catalog genius made the obvious link with the wine making kit. "Everything for the wino motorist on your list."

The kicker? It's "For Entertainment Purposes Only." Entertainment!? Let me tell you, after a couple hours pounding homemade wine, "entertainment" usually starts with the phrase "hey guys! Watch this!" and ends in the emergency room.

Hockin' up for Science

2008-11-21T18:32:00.000-08:00

I got a letter from Kaiser medical's research arm a few months ago asking me to participate in a decades-long genetics study. It didn't take me long to decide if I would participate. I mean, a bell curve has to start somewhere, right? So I sent back the letter saying I'd do it. They sent back a letter saying "thanks, any you may or may not ever hear from us again." Feeling a trifle toyed with, I sat by the mailbox for the next few days yearning for some sign that they liked me. My codependent behavior was rewarded when another communication arrived advising me that another communication would be arriving. And this next was was the one I'd been waiting for. Kaiser wanted my spit. A month in and I was finally getting to first base.

Those of you who aren't key participants in groundbreaking research such as myself may think that spitting into a cup is a simple affair. You poor, naive souls. Placing laboratory-quality saliva into a sample container is precise, laborious work. Indeed, it takes a full page of instructions with multiple diagrams to teach the novice expectorator just how to hock into that cup.

My favorite direction was number 5. "Finish spitting within 30 minutes after you start." I just wanted it to go on forever...

Underwear Overboard

2008-11-21T18:06:00.000-08:00

I went to Target yesterday. Funny thing about Target. No matter what I go there for, I end up spending at least a hundred bucks. I may think I just need chapstick, but somewhere between the front door and checkout, I find my arms laden with $100 worth of whatever it is Target sells. Yesterday it was $175.

Roughly 8% of my bill went to underwear. I like this kind of unmentionables because whenever someone asks me "Boxers or Briefs?" (which, mind you, is the kind of coy flirtation that happens to a guy like be on a semi-decadal basis), I can cleverly retort "Yes." At which point I successfully stanch all playful banter.

The other thing about this- that model is WAY too happy about his undies. And what about this "No Ride Up" money back guarantee? How does one go about securing a refund when their drawers start riding up? Do you have to drop trau for the kid behind the returns desk? Send a picture along with the unused portion back to Bangladesh? I wonder how many people take them up on the offer?

(parenthesexy)

2008-10-13T08:23:00.000-07:00

So, we're all used to getting spam. And I certainly get my share of Nigerian "I've got $47Million I need to stash in your bank account" pitches and "You've won some lottery you never entered in a country you've never been to" scams. I also get these "I am handsome woman with requirement make the acquaintance for fetching mans" emails a couple times a week. But this one is the first I've ever seen with such copious use of parenthesis.

hey;) how are you?) do you have a second?)... i have not boyfriend(( I very want to meet real men...which will know woman's need ...like in a cinema ... you know)))) lets chat!) i am pretty girl)) I have a lot of time for meetings and if you have any ideas how to spend it with me... just email me back at ROMEY@[blahblah].com and i will reply back with some nice ;) photos with me ...and maybe, you will want to write me again)))

I much want to know...when the using upon parentheses...why are the symbols leaving balance...you know)))))

Bed Bath and Beyond

2008-09-23T07:36:00.001-07:00

Somewhere I read that children process language very literally. According to the author of this article, it's not until a child reaches the age or 9 or 10 that linguistic nuances like sarcasm and irony are comprehended. That theory seems to hold up in my house. What else can explain this remark from my five year old boy while pretending to work at Bed Bath and Beyond?

"We have good prices on various things that don't do much, but comfort you."

Yeah, that seems to describe "As Seen on TV Kinoki Cleansing Foot Pads" perfectly.

Good, Better, Best. Never Let it Rest

2008-09-12T21:37:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, my mom would tell me this rhyme:

Good, better, best
Never let it rest
Till you good gets better
And your better is best.

So I wonder what she'll make of the choices my scanner presents. The tangle of comparatives here is thick. Is "best" better and faster than "excellent" or is "excellent" somehow bester? And the speed. Nothing is the slowest, but "excellent," which may or may not be the bester setting, is slower.

My poor brain is hurtinger than it's been in a while. This isn't the confusedest I've ever been, but it's the closerest I've come in quite some time.

Less than Zero

2008-09-08T07:38:00.000-07:00

So I'm looking for some way to strap my boy's DVD player to the back of a car headrest and I come across this on the manufacturer's website. A very simple order form does not require instructions. Indeed, poor instructions could make matters worse.

“Input non-zero quantities for the parts you need” we're advised. Hold on there Einstein! You're talking to a liberal arts major here. I don't live in your cold, cold world of numbers. “Non-zero” you say? Well I did take a little philosophy. I think I can put together a pretty sound argument for why you should money to me when I enter negative numbers. They are, after all, “non-zero.” Maybe I am on my way!

Is it Really Worth It?

2008-08-09T17:45:00.000-07:00

Behold the dangers of a jewelry cleaner. Could this be the same company that brought us Innervation Racing? Thanks to our friend Kamala for this one.

Do not dissect the unit except the authorized serviceman.
Repeat working cycle can enhance the cleaning effect While the interval is better longer than 5 minutes.
Unfirmly inlaid studs on decorations may shed off during cleaning.
Unfastened parts may also meet above problems.
Do not merge non-waterproof watch into water.
Close supervision is necessary when this product is used by, on, or near children or invalids.
Never use while sleeping or drowsy.
During cleaning, the "ZiZi" noise is normal.

Think of the horrors that could ensue if a sleeping invalid merged a watch into it while children were dissecting it!!

Paradoxymoron?

2008-08-04T16:13:00.000-07:00

This little nugget comes courtesy of Meritline.com. It's actually my favorite place for picking up random cheap techy stuff. In what can only be described as paradoxymoronical, "Custom Accessories" is offering a Universal Cell Phone Holder. There seems to be a little tension in our adjectives, no?

You know, I have one simple request

2008-07-10T21:41:00.000-07:00

And that is to have sharks with FRICKIN' LASER BEAMS attached to their heads!

So you can imagine my joy when LEGO, of all sources, comes through. My boy is signed up for the LEGO Brickmaster club, but honestly, I'm more into it than he is. The current issue brought us this riveting scene from the Agents series of LEGO sets and I swear those are sharks with frickin' lasers! Awesome!

How Hard Can It Be?

2008-06-18T08:30:00.000-07:00

My name is Stuart. When I speak my name, I make a conscious effort to pronounce it clearly. I give the S plenty of hiss and both Ts have a strong snap to them. Yet for some reason, when I order my burritos, the folks behind the counter have difficulty with my name. Now don't jump to any conclusions about the people behind the cash register. They're all nice, hard-working people from a variety of ethnic backgrounds. Still, when faced with the prospect of typing "Stuart" (I accept "Stewart" as phonetically indistinguishable), they routinely fail. Comically.

My favorite bungled version is "Storch." Regrettably, I lost that receipt.

You're On Your Way!

2008-06-06T10:14:00.001-07:00

Am I on my way? Read that first section in bold and tell me if you agree.

Now, I must fully disclose my mathematical aptitude. Many of us in this world are not particularly gifted in the manipulation of numbers. I believe that my skills settle somewhere below that. I struggled with math all through school and never once turned in an A. I'm so averse to math that I selected my college major based largely on the math requirements. I had a single course titled "Mathematics for Liberal Arts Majors" but everyone just called it "Intro to Numbers." And still I produced the weakest showing of my college career, grateful that a C is still a passing grade.

Knowing this, I believe that I'm still within my mathematical capacities when I assert that a person requires at least one TrueBlue point to be considered "on your way to redeeming for your next Award Flight." Moreover I am squarely in my realm of expertise to state that the preceding quote contains too many prepositions. Jetting indeed.

Something Isn't Quite Right Here

2008-05-27T16:39:00.000-07:00

So, uh, was this Historic Life-Saving Station poorly run? Are these the, let's say, negative outcomes? See, a good Life-Saving Station really ought not need its own cemetery.

This troubling sign comes courtesy of Point Reyes National Seashore. While I'm not above poking a little fun at the place, I do truly adore the park and the whole Tomales Bay area.

Going Through the Motions

2008-05-09T06:42:00.000-07:00

This morning I woke up to find this message darkening my inbox:

Congratulations. The South African football association, safa is proud to inform you that you have just won Two Million Five Hundred Thousand United States Dollars (US$2.500, 000.00).

I have to wonder, are these guys even trying anymore? These schemes were never models of grammar and spelling, but come on. If you can't even type a number correctly, how many suckers are you going to reel in? You'd think they might use some of their spoils to, say, hire someone who speaks the language of their marks. But I guess everyone burns out at some point and just churns through the workday. Makes me wonder what a trip to the DMV is like in Nigeria...

Daddy Smells Like What!?

2008-04-24T12:05:00.000-07:00

A couple days ago, my bride and I were on either side our five year old boy on the couch mercilessly delivering kisses to his cheeks. After I'd delivered about 5 or 6 he turned away from me and announced that he only wanted kisses from Mommy because: "Daddy's breath smells like Thursday."

I excused myself to brush.

The Grand-Daddy of Useless Guarantees

2008-03-27T09:46:00.000-07:00

This one has bugged me since I was a kid. Look on any Band Aid package and you'll see this pointless pledge. I mean, we all know they can't guarantee an open bandage retains its sterility. So why the guarantee? It's the Schrödinger's Cat of product safety: you can't know if your Band Aid is clean without collapsing the waveform.

I've got a few more to propose.
Mac OS X: Guaranteed not to crash unless computer is running.
Windows: Guaranteed not to crash unless you're alone or with someone.
Claritin: Guaranteed effective in the absence of allergens.
Taco Bell: Guaranteed E. Coli free unless opened or eaten.

Screaming Baby Airlines

2008-03-12T11:59:00.000-07:00

So, this doesn't really fit the theme of the blog, but I just love it. A little audio nugget of goodness from Jim Ward of the Stephanie Miller Show.

Japanophobia

2008-02-16T18:57:00.000-08:00

A few years ago, I was sent to Japan on business. You might think "Cool! Free trip to Japan" Many folks would. I'm not one of those people.

See, I'm a bit of a curmudgeon. Not only that, I'm a picky eater with lowbrow tastes. It's the culinary analog to stagflation, rare but not unheard of. Worse yet, I don't eat any seafood. And I mean any seafod. If it lived in water, I won't eat it. Japan, being comprised entirely of islands, is a place where whole fish are in the breakfast buffet. So it might not surprise you that I didn't take to the cuisine.

I recorded the experience in an email to my family.

In the Next World

2008-01-28T21:27:00.000-08:00

I'm a fan of cemeteries. Many people have no concept of how a person could actually like cemeteries and I get that. But to me, they're amazingly peaceful places full of art. Last spring, I had the opportunity to visit the Columbarium in San Francisco. Among a century's worth of memorials, I came across the ashes of A. Buck. What good is a buck when you're deceased? What does it mean when a buck moves on? Kinda makes me wonder.

You want me to screw what now?

2008-01-16T23:37:00.000-08:00

See my previous post for the background on my remote control car and the less than meticulous effort that went into translating the instructions from Chinese to English. This bit is from the product box itself. I suppose it's grammatically acceptible to hyphenate a word before "tion" but it sure doesn't look right. The absence of an actual hyphen isn't helping matters.

"screw the cover"
I'm a little perplexed at the battery installation process. Specifically the last step when installing both the car and controller batteries. When they say "screw the cover," is it an offhand kind of "screw the cover, just leave it off" comment? Or do they want me to affix the covers using screws? Surely they're not making some lewd suggestion, are they?

"Put the 'ON' switch on both the car and the radio control box and the instruction light will be on."
OK, it sounds like there's an "ON" switch knocking around somewhere and I've got to place it on two things at once. Is this some sort of quantum superposition state I'm supposed to set up? Will a cat die if I collapse the waveform? And what the hell is the instruction light!?

"You can put the signpost first and they start."
Sure, I can put the signpost first. I don't even have a signpost. Was it supposed to be in the box? Will they start in the absence of a signpost? What are "they" anyway; there's only one car.

It shoulda been called Infuria-tion Racing.

When a Man and a Woman Love Each Other Very Much

2008-01-10T21:54:00.000-08:00

So the boy and I enjoy this Science Channel show called How It's Made. Each episode shows how four things are made. Might be saddles, might be surgical thread, might be acid for cleaning driveways. You just never know.

This evening, I was perusing the shows we've recorded and came across this disconcerting description.

Now, I'm a married man. Most of my friends are too. I've been to, and in, many wedding ceremonies. I can say with absolute certainty, that electrodes have never been part of the ritual.

On the other hand, the program is produced in Canada. I have not been to a Canadian wedding, so perhaps electrodes play some role in their nuptials. Here too, however, I'm skeptical. A friend of mine recently married a delightful Canadian woman and he possesses dual Canadian/American citizenship. While I was unable to attend their celebration, I think I would have heard about the electrodes at some point. I remain at a loss.

Thank God my kid can't read yet. "Daddy, what's a wedding electrode?"
"Well, son, when a man and a woman love each other very much the make a commitment to one another called a wedding."
"And the electrodes?"
"Uuh. Right. You see, there are times when mommies and daddies need to, like, spice things up a little bit. And some people like to, uh, you know...."
"You don't know what you're talking about, do you Daddy?"
"I sure don't. Want some ice cream?"

Here's Something No One Ever Thought of Before

2008-01-07T19:18:00.001-08:00

This delightful little nugget came to me from my editor Liz. Her new iPod charger dingus comes with this thrilling bonus:

Features our exclusive ON/OFF Switch

No one ever thought of this before! A mechanism whereby the device can be actuated and incapacitated at the mere whim of the operator!

Sno•Baller

2008-01-03T09:51:00.000-08:00

To celebrate the new year, my bride, our boy and I headed into the mountains to play in the snow for a day. While breaking for lunch we bought a new toy for the little man, a Sno•Baller. This thing is the love child of ceremonial ribbon cutting scissors and a melon baller. But I will affirm that, given the right snow, it did indeed make perfect snowballs every time.

But reading the label aloud, adjacent to "Hours of fun for all ages" was the admonition "NOT INTENDED FOR USE UNDER 5 YEARS OLD." Our four and a half year old became concerned upon hearing this. Was it not going to be fun because he's four? Would he have to wait until April to play with it? Were we going to play with it in front of him? Most importantly, why does it say "all ages" then go on to exclude him? We assured him that being responsible parents, we'd dispense with all caution, disregard the warning and allow him unfettered access to his new toy.

It was, indeed, hours of fun for all ages.

Innervation Racing

2007-12-29T19:52:00.000-08:00

This is what happens when you skimp on translation services
---- or ----
"He is, the one that happens if you skimp to the works of the translation."

I was given a remote controlled car for my birthday this year. It was made in China and, I can only gather, was hastily prepared for sale in English speaking markets. For starters, the product is called "Innervation Racing" and is adorned with decals such as "Speeding!" and "Good Sale" (which I'm guessing was supposed to be "goodbye" but stopped off at "good buy" before arriving at "good sale"). One need only read the instructions to be fully convinced. To wit:

1. If another car using the same radio frequency operated same time nearby ,the control of car would be malnutrition .
So...get two cars together and go hungry?

2. Please change the place or other period of time to play .Sometime , if affected by other radio frequency transmition the control may be also out of order .
OK, this one is a gem for punctuation alone. But it also seems to suggest that whatever time and place you had in mind for using this toy will have to change.

Apparently "transmition" will mess you up too. So please, children, say no to transmition and stay in school.

3. This car suitable to play on the roughage sand road ,if playing on the every smooth polished ground ,because the fiction between wheel and ground is too small , may cause problem of moving in non-straight path ,car rotate 180º or continually rotating on the ground.
Cursed fiction. If only the fiction between wheel and ground were larger, but no. They have to be honest and ruin our fun. Not only that, where am I going to find a road that's built of sand and non-digestible fibrous vegetable matter? At least the malnutritioning car will be continually rotating on the ground and not in the air where someone could really get hurt.

I do give them credit for omitting the space before the period .

4. Better play on the larger playground ,not suitable playing indoor on a single-family house .
Surely you'll appreciate the relief I felt upon first reading number four. You see, I own a condo that is attached to two other dwellings and am therefore cleared to use the car indoors. I am a bit miffed that I can't play on the smaller playground. The larger being considerably less convenient.

I have another set of instructions from this product I'll post next.

I was Angling for a Norton

2007-12-26T09:13:00.000-08:00

I was hoping I'd come through as the beloved Emperor Norton. Alas, I scored a C6.

Which Historical Lunatic Are You?
From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.

The Treachery Of Images

2007-12-22T18:49:00.000-08:00

So. Uhhh. Here's what I don't get. If my computer is not connected to a power source, how can it light up the screen and display this message? Reneé would approve.

Red State Blue State

2007-12-21T18:17:00.000-08:00

Do you ever get the feeling that both political parties in America are more concerned with carving us up into warring factions than actually listening to our needs? I'm of the opinion that Methodists in Kansas City and Buddhists in San Francisco have a lot more in common than we've been led to believe.

Get people fighting over, say, abortion long enough and maybe they'll forget what they agree on. We all want safe neighborhoods, good jobs, and clean water to come out of the tap, right? So when the politicians start paying more attention to earmarks than citizens, is it any wonder we catch on too late?

I decided to try out my hunch with a little experiment. Everyone knows the red vs. blue map from the 2004 election. But suppose you blend red and blue based on the percentage of votes each state recorded for the candidates. What would happen? Things get a lot more purple...

Do Not Disturb

2007-12-19T21:55:00.000-08:00

Umm. Who, exactly, occupies a vacant lot?

Bridge Ho? What's a Bridge Ho?

2007-12-19T21:45:00.000-08:00

I admit this was outside Adobe's control, but I couldn't let it get away. A ho with new episodes of ass? Who's interest wouldn't be piqued?

I got this message just days after attempting to pay Adobe $150 to upgrade some software I own. In short, they acknowledged that I legitimately own the software, but didn't own it in just the right way to buy the upgrade. This comes after they take my money. So I ask for my money back and they demand certification that I destroyed all copies of the software that I can't install. Sure thing, guys.

What's in Your Wallet? ™

2007-12-19T21:15:00.000-08:00

Here's another little gem from our friends over at CapitalOne. You know those "Convenience Checks" the credit card companies like to send you? Take a look at the terms sometime. Not only will they charge you $50 to write the check, you won't get your miles or bonus points or whatever crumb they offer you on regular purchases.

You will, on the other hand, be treated to astonishingly odd nuggets such as clause number seven in the image below. I'm sure this is meaningful to CapitalOne's lawyers, in fact, I'm pretty sure I know what they're getting at, but come on!

What's in your wallet? What's in your cranium?

Financial Genius

2007-12-19T20:42:00.000-08:00

This is the one that inspired the whole blog. It defies commentary. And makes me wonder just how reliable those interest calculations are...

Who's the Barber Here?

2007-12-19T20:17:00.000-08:00

"Who's the Barber Here" is taken from the old Saturday Night Live sketch where Steve Martin plays a medieval barber. Regardless of the ailment, the prescribed treatment is always a bloodletting. When he's challenged on the wisdom of letting the blood of a bleeding accident victim, he counters: "Say, who's the barber here?"

That's how I feel when some company or another makes utterly specious claims or thinks we're too ignorant to know what they're up to. So, herewith is my humble collection of BS from the "barbers" of today.