Everyday Is Better Than The Next

accents are bullshit

danbag — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 20:31:28 +0000

When you turn on CNN what do you hear? Do you hear someone speaking like George Bush, either of them? Do you hear someone speaking like a lobster fisherman? No, you hear someone speaking like a midwesterner. The only true way to speak in the world is the way us midwesterners do it. We don’t make our R’s soft and we don’t pronounce O’s like A’s or anything stupid like that. We speak words as they were meant to be spoken. I purport that people with accents, much like people who act like they’re always happy, are liars. Why is it that Natalie Portman can be in a movie a speak as if she was from the middle of America and then in an interview she sounds like she’s fresh off the boat from Liverpool. I’ll tell you why, she’s a liar. She was born in Israel. It’s this kind of deception that makes me angry. Quit it Natalie, we don’t think it’s cool.

Who Gives A Fuck About Swine Flu?

GreenLantern — Fri, 01 May 2009 04:58:44 +0000

I just don’t understand why everybody is flipping out about swine flu. It has effected the stock market. What in the hell does swine flu have to due with the market? People are walking around wearing surgical masks, as if that is going to help at all. It makes no sense to me. What makes it so scary? In the past week, one person in the United States has died from it. One. Let’s look at some other things that are more likely to kill you this week.

Heart Disease - 12,500
Cancer - 11,000
Accidents - 9,500
Obesity - 6,000
Diabetes - 1,500

The point being, you have way more to worry about than swine flu. If you are really that worried about dying then shut the fuck up, put down the Big Mac, get your ass on the treadmill, quit smoking, wear a motorcycle helmet everywhere you go, and get a gas mask.

be careful… it’s a slippery slope

danbag — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 19:09:36 +0000

When you see a crazy looking hillbilly on the street or in the grocery store, do you wonder how that person came to look that way? Have you ever wondered the evolution and thought process that resulted in the guy at the hardware store wearing a 20 year old cut off nascar shirt while donning a nasty looking mullet?

I’m here to tell you that it’s a slippery slope. Those people didn’t wake up one day and say to themselves “I’m gonna look like a fuckin’ moron today and continue to do so for the rest of my life.” What we see when we look at John Q. Redneck is a look that took years to cultivate. This person’s journey began at the top of a slope that is very slippery. The mullet probably started out as some guy liking long hair but not really wanting hair in his eyes. 20 years later, the guy has buzzed hair on top and hair down to his ass in the back. We all encounter some form of a slippery slope in our everyday life and it’s up to us to not slide down that slope. It’s up to us to keep our hair and clothing styles modern. We must at some point step outside of our comfort zones in order to keep up with the times. Otherwise we shall fall victim to a slippery slope and turn into that stupid fucker that entertains us.

please billy, don’t do it

danbag — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 21:21:01 +0000

Everyone is probably pretty familiar with a man by the name of Billy Mays. Originally made famous by hoching oxyclean, Billy has rose to fame selling many other fine household products, to the point to where he himself is almost as American as apple pie. The man has a wonderful ability to sell things. I believe that Billy could sell things to me that I don’t even want. I’m even going to go as far to say that Mr. Mays might be able to turn me gay. Yeah, I said it. I have no aspirations to have any kind of sexual encounter with any man walking the face of this planet or even the face of another planet. But I believe that with Billy’s unnatural ability to make the dim look bright, he could trick me into buying into homosexuality. So, in closing, I plead to you Billy Mays… Please don’t try to sell me homosexuality because I don’t know if I’d be able to resist your sales pitch.

for those times when you don’t want to pay a bill but know that you have to

danbag — Thu, 12 Mar 2009 20:34:47 +0000

I was arrested for an alcohol related offense a little over a year ago. Due to that arrest I had to attend what I called “booze classes” at a local counseling center. It was completely ridiculous that I had to attend these classes, but I understand that when you break the law you have to deal with the consequences. These classes lasted almost 2 months and cost me close to $700. On my very last class I asked the receptionist how much I needed to pay in order to never have to see or hear from that place again. She gave me the amount and I paid it on the spot. About 2 months later I received a bill from this place in the mail saying that I owed them $52.58. I kept telling myself that I was going to call and ask for an itemized receipt and never did. About 6 months went by and I got a call from a collection agency. They wanted the money. I explained my situation to them and explained how I had every intention of taking care of the bill, if infact I actually owed the money. The nice lady let me know my options, which included receiving the receipt explaining why I owe the money. She then warned me that if I didn’t pay the bill in 3 weeks that it would effect my credit score and she could not promise the receipt would reach me before then. Quite the double edged sword, eh? After much deliberation, I came up with a solution that would make everyone in the situation happy. Right now I have a check written out to the collection agency marinating under my nuts and ass. I plan to keep that check there for about 4 or 5 hours and then when the flavor is just right, I will put it in the envelope and send it away to take care of my debt.

Old people need to choose a different car.

danbag — Sun, 08 Mar 2009 19:14:36 +0000

There are many different topics concerning old people that I could complain about. Maybe the way they look gross while eating. Maybe the way most of them are grouchy and mean just because they are old. Maybe the way they drive so slow and activate their turn signals 2 miles before they turn. Nope, none of those things. I would like for the AARP to issue a notice in their news letter to tell all old people to quit driving cars that look like police vehicles. There are many fine vehicles in these modern times in which we live that provide the comfort and safety that these geriatrics seek. I’m tired of coming over a hill while exceeding the speed limit by an amount that would cause me to incur a stiff fine and have to slam on my brakes because some 80 year old decided they wanted to drive a caprice. I believe that alot of money is spent each year on new brake shoes because of this sort of false cop spotting that happens to me almost everyday. We’re all on the same team here, us against cops. We need to come together to make it easier to spot cops and know that it’s not just an old person.

Hippies are somewhat at fault on this topic as well. From a distance, bike racks on top of cars look like police lights. Although these bike racks are usually found on top of Honda and Toyota vehicles, cause those are the vehicles these tree hugging hippies drive, from a distance they look like pig lights. I urge everyone to talk to their grandparents and/or their stupid hippie relative/friend that is at the root of this problem.

Google Racing

GreenLantern — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 05:12:28 +0000

I had a hilarious idea the other day…

I had to make a trip up north a couple days ago. This place that I was going was not all that familiar to me, I had been there before but wasn’t exactly sure how to get where I was going. I pulled it up on Google Maps and got some directions. The total time on the directions told me that it would take approximately 1 hour and 47 minutes to get to this place. No way. I estimated that following the exact directions that Google gave me I could make it in about an hour and 20 minutes. And thus began my idea/obsession for Google Racing.

I got a stop watch. I got in the car. I took a look at the directions noting all turns, estimated mileage before these turns, and possible tricky spots. I started the car. I hit start on the stop watch while simultaneously stomping the gas pedal. I was officially on the clock. Most of this trip took place on roads and two lane highways so I knew that any traffic could slow me down. Thankfully, it was 6:30 in the morning and I would more than likely miss the majority of the morning commute. I drove like a man possessed. On the straight long sections of the trip I was kicking the speed up to around 80, passing in no passing zones, and getting mad at people that were only going 62 in a 55 mph zone.

Keep in mind that I am normally a very calm driver. I barely ever speed. In fact, I usually get made fun of for driving like an old man. However, not this time. I felt like I had something to prove and that was that Google Maps was full of shit. The farther I got on this trip the crazier and more obsessed with Google Racing I got. I had this whole plan to get a website up that would allow people to pick a route and input their best time. There could be special routes from like New York to California, or Maine to Florida. I even thought about forming some kind Google Racing league with sponsors and the whole nine yards.

I ended up making the trip in 1 hour and 9 minutes, crushing Google’s time by almost 40 minutes. I was almost an hour and a half early for my appointment which meant I was going to have to wait around, I was thirsty and hungry because I didn’t stop for breakfast or anything at all, I was kind of shaky and nervous because I had just done some of the most intense driving ever, and I was really beginning to think that Google Racing was actually a stupid idea. The first problem with it is that to make really good time and to really beat the shit out of Google’s time you have to speed. Speeding, of course, is illegal and possibly dangerous. The second problem is that sometimes the route that Google gives you is just stupid. On my trip they told me to take three left turns when I could have just taken one right turn. And finally, what is really the point?

All in all it was one of those ideas that was “in the moment”, and once I was out of the moment it doesn’t seem all the fun anymore. It did make for an interesting trip. If anyone is interested in carrying through on this, googlemapsracing.com is available to be registered.

Shoot the Messenger

GreenLantern — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 21:05:57 +0000

Today I woke up at about 4 PM to my phone ringing. I normally turn my phone off before I go to bed, but as fate would have it today I forgot. I picked up my phone trying to focus on it, which is hard when you fist wake up. I didn’t recognize the number so of course I didn’t answer it. After it stopped ringing I checked my other missed calls. I had 6 total missed calls and all of them were from this mysterious number. I immediately go into panic mode thinking that someone is desperately trying to get a hold of me for some important reason. Before I can check my voicemail to see if somebody left me some important message, my phone rings again from the same number. I answer it immediately, say “hello?”, and I get a recording “all of our operators are busy right now, please hold for the next available representative”. This immediately pisses me off. Since when is it ok to call someone and make them wait?

After about 30 seconds on the phone I hear a voice say “Hello this is Omar and i would like to talk to you about your Best Buy card. You currently have..” I interrupt him with “Fuck Omar did you call me six times today? I don’t think there is anything that important going on with my Best Buy that requires calling me six times.” Omar goes on to explain that he did not call me six times, they have an automated system blah blah blah” I stop him, and ask him what is wrong with my Best Buy card. He tells me that I currently have a balance of $210, and owe a past due amount of $20. He then asks me if I am able to make a payment today.”

At this point I am a furious ball of anger. Granted, this is my fault. Somehow my Best Buy bill slipped through the cracks this month and I didn’t pay it. However, I think that calling me six times over 20 bucks is a little fucking extreme. My first instinct is to advise Omar that he can tell Best Buy to take a rolling fuck through a flying dough nut, but I take a deep breath calm down and decide that I’m going to fuck with Omar.

“Omar, how much is that in Pesos? That’s all I have laying around here. Omar starts explaining to me the available payment options, but I interrupt him by yelling “OMAR” as loud as I can. He says “Yes sir?”, I say “Did you hear that?” “Did I hear what sir?” I go on “I think it’s my heart, it’s beating like really loud.” Omar tries to get the conversation back on track but I throw him another curve ball. “Omar, what’s a golgi apparatus?” I hear him sigh, and then say “I don’t know.” I respond with “HAAAA I know what it is. I’m smarter than you.” Now I’ve got his attention and he says “What is it?” I tell him it’s the thing in your car that mixes the gas and air, which if you didn’t know is complete bullshit. He says “Isn’t that the carburetor?” I come back with “NO, and don’t fucking argue with me Omar. I know about shit.”

At this point I say “Oh, this is my favorite part”, I turn up the music that I have playing in the background super long and start singing along to Disturbed - Just Stop. This goes on for about 2 minutes, and I have to give Omar credit. He listened to the whole thing and didn’t say a word. I turn the music back down and say “Ok, where were we? Best Buy wants me to make a payment or you are going to come break my legs.” Omar slips and says “Yes.” I flip out. “Omar, you are going to break my legs?” He realizes what he just said and tries to correct himself “No no no no, I’m just calling on their behalf to ask if you can make a payment today.” I’m not letting him off that easy. “Omar, please please please don’t break my legs. I love my legs. I enjoy walking and doing interpretative dance. I can’t live without the use of my beautiful legs.”

Now I can tell that Omar is getting a little frustrated with me. He says “Sir…” with a long pause after it. I say “Omar are you mad at me?” He then breaks it down for me that he’s just doing is job. I then tell him that I am just doing my job. He then asks me if my job is harassing people via the telephone. I have a minute long gut laugh at that and the come back to Omar and say “Omar, your company has called me 6 times today. Who is harassing who?” Omar gives it one last desperate attempt “Sir are you able to make a payment today?” I politely tell Omar “I will never pay it, ever. You will have to pry that 20 bucks from my cold dead hands in hell. The next time I have 20 bucks and nothing to do with it, I’m going write Best Buy on it and set that mother fucker on fire.” *click* I hang up, go on the internets, and pay the bill online. I’m such a bastard.

Strange Things That Have Happened To Me While Working Third Shift

GreenLantern — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 08:41:00 +0000

Over the past 8 years I have worked roughly 3 years on third shift. Third shift is weird in itself just because you are on a different schedule than everyone else works. While you are working, I am sleeping. While you are sleeping, I am working. Apart from that, some very weird things tend to happen in the middle of the night. Most of these things happen on my breaks and lunches which are at 1 AM, 3 AM, and 5:30 AM. It should also be noted that I only live about 2 blocks from where I work so I am usually walking to and from work a lot. With all that in mind, here is a list of some of the weird things that have happened to me.

Ninjas
I have had a couple of encounters with ninjas. The most memorable was the time that I was sitting out on a bench smoking on my 1 AM break. There is a line of trees and bushes across from this bench about 20 yards away. I heard something over there and I turned my head and looked over but I didn’t see anything. I heard something again and looked back again and there it was, a ninja. It was a guy dressed in all black (black hooded sweatshirt, black jeans, black sock hat, and carrying some sort of black bag) just standing there not moving. I kind of turned so that I was facing him just in case he tried to plant a ninja star in my neck. We kind of starred at each other for a while and then I decided to break the silence by waving and saying “Hi”. He did not respond. After another 30 seconds of uncomfortable silence he started walking down along the row of trees and bushes. He never took his eyes off me. He walked about 30 yards down and then jumped back into the bushes. That’s when I had seen enough and ran back into work.

Getting Shot
One night I was sitting outside on the same bench that I was sitting on when I encountered the ninja. All of a sudden I heard a sound like a cap gun and felt a stinging pain in my arm. I instinctively did an army roll off the bench and ran back into work. After inspecting my arm, I deduced that I had been shot by a pellet gun. I called one of the third shift supervisors and asked him what I should do. He told me he would be right up to check it out. Well on his way up, he called the cops. So by the time he got up there the cops were there too. They looked at my wound and kind of laughed at me and then looked around in the direction that the shot came from. They didn’t find anything, and I never figured out who did it or where it came from.

Drunks
Being that my lunch break starts right around the time that all the bars close, I have had many many run-ins with drunks. One of my favorite drunk encounters was when I was walking home for lunch. I was kind of just looking down at the ground, minding my own business, and all of a sudden I hear “Hey!” I kind of scarred the shit out of me. I kind of took a panicked step back and said “Shit. Hi. What’s up?” I then noticed that this guy was stumbling hammered drunk. He said “I need to go to the hospital.” I asked him why he needed to the hospital, to which he replied “Cause I’m drunk”. I kind of laughed and told him that it would probably be better if he just went home and slept it off. He told me that he lived on the other side of town and that he didn’t think he could make it. Come to find out this guy had started walking home from the bar, but he started walking the wrong direction and was lost and had decided that he better just go to the hospital. After he filled me in on all that his stumbling got a little worse and he started to do a fall over. He caught himself a couple of times, then started to fall backwards, caught himself on that, and then did one of the most horrific face plants I have ever seen right into a street sign. I looked down to make sure he was still conscious, said “maybe you should go to the hospital”, and continued walking home. On my my back to work he was gone, and I never saw him again.

Getting Harassed by the Cops
I have learned that the police do not like for people to be out walking around at odd hours during the night. One time I was walking back to work from lunch on a Saturday. When I am working on a Saturday I don’t do my normal dress up routine. On this particular night I was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and a backwards hat. I was also drinking a giant can of Monster, which to the untrained eye might look like a giant can of booze. So as I am walking I notice there is a car coming up behind me. I then realized that this car wasn’t passing me, it was following me. As I looked back to see what was going on I stepped in a pothole in the road and did a little stumble. The cop immediately flashed his lights and pulled up next to me. He shines his super bright flashlight in my face and starts asking me where I’m going. I tell him that I am going to work. He very obviously does not believe me because his next question is “you been doing any drinking tonight?” I kind of make a joke and tell him “I’m on the wagon, I’ve been sober for 6 days, anybody can do it.” He doesn’t find this funny, and asks what’s in my hand. I tell him it’s one of those new energy drinks, and he asks to see it. At this point this whole thing isn’t really funny to me anymore so I pull out my work badge, show it to him, point across the street, and say “I work right there. Can I go?” He nodds, puts away his flashlight, and speeds off like he has something important to do.

Wondering Children
I have actually come across 2 kids wondering around aimlessly in the middle of the night. The first kid I found was wondering around in a coat and a diaper in the middle of December. I was heading back to work after my lunch break and right in the middle of the road is a two year old kid. This kid just looked happy as could be until it saw me. I had this freaked out look on my face and I think the kid sensed it and immediately flipped out. I picked it up and started kind of looking around to figure out where this kid came from. At first I tried asking the kid where it came from but it was to busy screaming bloody murder. At the end of the block I saw a house with a door open. I walked down there and knocked on the door, knocked on the door, and knocked on the door again. Just when I was about ready to give up and just call the cops some lady came to door looking all crazy, but as soon as she saw her kid she flipped out and started shaking like a leaf on a tree. Apparently the kid has some kind of serious sleep walking thing, and will wonder around the house. The mom explained to me that they normally have to lock the kids door when she goes to bed, but this time she happen to forget and the kid wondered right out of the house. The second kid I found was also found on my way back from lunch. This one was just playing in the grass on the street corner about a block from work. I estimate that this one was about 4 because it could talk. I said “Hey, what are you doing?” It replied with “Ball”, and pointed to one of those giant bouncing ball things. I asked where it’s mommy an daddy were at and it pointed at the ball again and said “ball”. At that point I decided we weren’t getting anywhere so I picked the kid up and started walking down the street. There was one house with the lights on so I walked up to the door, which was wide open, and yelled “HELLO?” Some crazy drunk lady came to the door, I set the kid down, and she started yelling at it like it was his fault. I just shook my head and walked away.

When Animals Attack
I have had several potentially dangerous animal encounters on third shift. Several dogs, a possum, but most recently a bat. I was standing outside smoking when all of a sudden I start hearing this chirping sound. It’s not in a centralized place though. Sometimes I hear it farther away, and other times it sounds like it is right next to me. The all of sudden I hear flapping and hear the chirping sound very loudly right over my head. I have an “ah-ha!” moment and realize that it must be a bat. I’m looking around trying to see it when all of a sudden it slams right into the side of my head. I start flailing my arms and screaming like a girl. I look down and see the bat starting to get up, so I ditch my cigarette and run inside. I go into the bathroom and make sure I’m not bleeding or anything. I don’t see any visible fang marks on my neck so I assume that I’m ok, and go back to work. I tell a few co-workers about this, and before long I have a new nickname over the whole ordeal “batman”.

Arson Suspect
A couple of years ago, a house that is between my house and work caught on fire. Apparently this happened around 3:30 in the morning, which just so happens to be right when I am walking back to work after lunch. Around 4 AM at work, one of my co-workers who is also a volunteer fireman tells me that there is a fire right next to my house. I walk down there to check it out. I’m standing across the street and I see the police talking to some people, presumably about the the cause of the fire. Then I see a couple of them point at me, and the the police look over at me. They walk over and ask me if I was in the area between 2 and 4. I get a little concerned and start to wonder if I need a lawyer, so I ask the cop if I am a suspect. He replies “I don’t know…. are you?” I decided that I am definitely innocent of any wrong doing so I go ahead and tell him that I walked home at 3, and back at 3:30 and didn’t see anything. He takes down all of my information and tells me “Don’t leave the country… Just kidding.” ha ha really funny asshole. A couple of days later two policemen knock on my door and tell me that it was a dryer that caused the fire. I thought that was pretty nice of them to let me know that I was not a suspect in a fire investigation anymore.

I Fail At Failing.

GreenLantern — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 02:38:07 +0000

So there is this blog that I like reading called Failblog. The idea behind this blog is simple, submit pictures of situations that depict failure and add a caption that says “FAIL”. Sometimes the things that they post are truly hilarious. Being that I am a regular reader of this blog, I thought I would step up to the plate and get involved by submitting my own picture. So, I spend a couple of days coming up with a great idea. I find the perfect picture. I add my “FAIL” caption. Then, I submit it. I wait around for a couple of weeks and I don’t see my picture. I finally realize that my picture was either too offensive, or just plain not funny. You tell me what you think:

Challenger Fail