der Housen

Hello good people of blogspot.

As you may have read on Mielikki's blog, we went to go look at a house last night. It has the potential of being a beautiful home, warm and fulfilling. I sent a link to my sister to see it and her comment basically boiled down to this method of restoration.
1) Go into the house and measure the square footage.
2) double check the square footage, just in case (we do come from a family of measure twice, cut once people)
3) Go to the gas station
4) Pour the gasoline into the house, light a match, run and then watch it burn. (Strange advice from an insurance industry employee)

I don't know, I like the house, Mie likes the house too, I think it has plenty of potential, minus the ugly ass master bathroom which looks like it needs some sort of exorcism to rid it of the demons of stupidity of who ever thought that it was a great idea to put jungle wallpaper, animal print shower curtains and a leopard print lamp shade into one room.

OUT DEMONS!! BE GONE!!

Let me know what you think. I've got a pretty good eye for detail, I should, it's the only one that I have left since the leopard attack in the jungle(bathroom)...

http://www.photomax.com/web/mem_album_photo_slide_show.php?TrackId=1628413&RandomId=2101888593

Things stolen

Ok, so yesterday started as a typical Monday always does, a long drive to work, followed by a quick bite from the cafe. I came back to my desk and realized that I really had to make water, so I got back up from my desk to go into the men's restroom. I turn the corner to the urinal stall and someone had stole the urinal. Standing there in disbelief, the pressures of the mornings bottle of water and the O.J. temporarily skipping my mind as I looked for the urinal. It was just there Friday, I know, I used it. So I went back to the door, opened it to see if I had for some unexplicable reason, walked into the women's restroom by accident, unlike in high school when I was pushed into a girls restroom (another blog all together). Seeing the Triangle and the little white marker wearing slacks, I knew I had chosen the correct door. SO I head back in to see if indeed I missed the urinal or if someone was playing a cruel joke on me. Sure enough I go back and low and behold, it's still missing. "Harumph" I think to myself, then try to think of WHY someone would be so brazen and cruel as to steal this very functional, if not very disqusting piece of bathroom equipment. No answers, still... I chuckled as I thought of all the uses a urinal could be used for. First was an interesting conversation starter of a sconce hanging on the wall of a house. Or a planter for a Cactus outside, every guy that I asked at work agreed that it would be so very cool to have a urinal installed in their bathrooms at home so that they didn't have to worry about the lid being left up and their wives/girlfriends/kids going for a swim at the midnight hour in a groggy state.

As of today, we are still pondering the missing urinal (yes it is a slow news day here at work) but there is now a bigger story to work on, some one has taken my red swingline stapler and my coat hook. Obviously these fiends will stop at nothing to continue my personal torment, I may have to make a shank out of a staple puller to defend myself.

Harumph.

Geek Poem

This being my first posting, I don't really have much to say. I am a "Techno-weenie" as my sister would love to tell you. Often times friends and family ask me what it is that I do, when I tell them, their eyes tend to glaze over and they get the slack jaw followed closely by the jell-O neck, while a little bit of drool forms at the corner of their mouths. So I've come to the conclusion that I need to just tell them that I'm a janitor. The nice thing about telling people that I'm a janitor is that they can grasp that reality with one hand and no need for further explanation. To top it off, I'm not lying.. really. I do go in and set things up, or tear them down per requests from people outside of my pay grade, not to mention I also get to clean up other people's messes, which is always a joy, almost as fun as shaving my head with a cheese grater or dosing my shorts with gasoline while standing in the middle of the Burning Man festival.

To help people out with what I do at work, I wrote a poem:


Here I sit, watching the new server installed and ready to go.
I type in a command, nothing
I go to the command line, type the command, still nothing.
In my head I hear it, pulsating, pounding just below the surface
I try something new, still the system thumbs its nose at me giving me a raspberry...
The roar grows louder, slowly reaching it's crescendo, building
roaring, ripping at my mind, my fists clench in undeniable rage
Fatal error flashes on the screen, the roar becomes a primal scream
AAARGHH!! the volcanic scream is now a maelstrom of lights and sounds
building, roiling, screaming, pounding... until it pushes the envelop of sanity and maniacal genius into being one
The gurgle rises to the top, bursting forth in one single completely meaningful word

"FUCK!!!"

Unfortunately, the meaning is lost in translation from my mind to my mouth and body and comes out as a whimper followed by a thud as my head hits the desk...