Goodbye Old Friend

NOT.  You sucked and I am thrilled to shove you into a drawer never to be used again.  This is  my Panasonic micro cassette transcriber, for those of you who never had the pleasure.  We've finally moved on to digital recording devices, or at least I have.  There are some in my office who are resisting  technology.  They prefer to listen to tapes that sound as if they were recorded from within the sunken remains of the Titanic.  Face it ladies, we're all going to be replaced by robots someday.  And when our robot overlords get here, wouldn't it be nice to be able to converse with them about current technology?    You think Zorax57#1029@6 wants to talk to you about typewriter ribbon?  No.  He'll blast you with his ray gun.  But if you say something like "I really like this new Olympus VN-702PC Voice Recorder with 2 GB of internal memory, how 'bout you?" he might just let you live. 

The Worst Movie That Ever Was And Ever Will Be

I got a bad review of my book the other day.  On New Year's Eve, actually.  It was a really hurtful, bitter review, left by someone who was overly angry at a book that she probably paid nothing for.  I was upset about it for a while, then I decided not to waste my time dwelling on such a miserable person's opinion.  I didn't want to become someone who focuses only on the negative.  If I were to do that, then I would be like her.  I decided to start 2014 with only positive thoughts!

And then I went to see Walking With Dinosaurs.

Fuck.  And I mean fuuuuuck.  If Fifty Shades of Grey is the worst book that ever was and ever will be, then Walking With Dinosaurs is the worst movie that ever was and ever will be.  At least until the Fifty Shades of Grey movie comes out.  But even that is debatable. If I had to choose between sitting through Walking With Dinosaurs for a second time, and watching Anastasia Steele get repeatedly railed by that sick twisted s.o.b., I might have to go for the latter.

And now let's begin:

Walking With Dinosaurs was produced by BBC Earth after the success of their 1999 miniseries of the same name.  It was originally made as a silent film.  A silent film that would have been AWESOME and gorgeous and totally enjoyable to watch. But then some Hollywood executives came along and said "Hey, what would be better than this really awesome silent dinosaur film that would be unlike any other dinosaur film ever made?  I know! Let's dub it with the voice of that guy from Alvin and the Chipmunks.  Justin Long.  Yeah, that guy.  We want him!  And don't forget John Leguizamo!"

My.  God.

I read the bad reviews before we went into the theater, but I still didn't quite comprehend.  I thought, how bad can it be? My four year old will like it, and I just want to look at the dinosaurs.  Who cares about the script?  You know who definitely didn't care about the script?  Whoever wrote the fucking script.

The movie starts off in present day with this paleontologist guy driving his niece and nephew up into the mountains of Alaska to look for dinosaur bones.  The teenaged nephew is all into his cell phone and doesn't care about paleontology in the slightest.  He's all "Who cares about science?  Science didn't build my iPhone!  CANDY CRUSH SAGA!!!!!!!"  The uncle parks the car and takes off with the niece and leaves the dopey nephew to wait in the car.  About three seconds later this wisecracking Latino bird flies down and starts speaking to the kid.  Maybe the kid was doing mushrooms in the car while he waited, I don't know.  They didn't show that part.  Anyway, this talking bird, voiced by John Leguizamo, shows up, and tells the kid that the ancient past is really way super cool and that he's going to tell him all about it.  Then he morphs into this dinosaur bird, unfortunately still voiced by John Leguizamo, and away we go!

The worst bird in all of history

I think I'm just going to make a list:

1)  The voices.  My God, the voices.  First of all, since the movie was originally meant to be a silent film, the dinosaurs mouths don't move.  There's just this weird voiceover throughout the entire thing, where it looks like the dinosaurs are communicating telepathically.  It made it very difficult to figure out who the hell was talking.  Unless, of course it was John Leguizamo, then all you said to yourself was "Shit, that annoying bird's talking again."

2) The main character is this teenaged dinosaur (was that a thing?) named Patchi, who goes on a migration with his herd.  Along the way he falls in love with this other teenaged dinosaur and the two of them get separated from the herd and run into all sorts of dopey trouble.  Whatever.  Who cares.  All I could focus on was the absolute garbage that kept spewing out of Patchi's mouth.  Endless references to modern day things, like calling bird-like dinosaurs "Turkey bird!" as an insult.  Turkeys?  Why would dinosaurs know about turkeys??  And ninjas!  And he talked as if he were typing status updates on Facebook.  "Worst.  Migration.  Ever."  He says this.  HE ACTUALLY FUCKING SAYS THIS.

I'm happy you guys are extinct

3) I'm always up for a poop or a fart joke.  I'll even take a vomit joke if it's all you've got.  This movie dumped all of the above on us within the first ten minutes, and did so with such awful delivery that all I could do was roll my eyes.  You know who used to roll her eyes at poop jokes?  My mother.  This movie has turned me into my mother.

4)  The main character has this permanent hole in his head from where he was attacked when he was a baby.  Countless times we were subjected to jokes about his hole.  This movie that only appeals to children under age 3, makes countless references to a dinosaur's HOLE.  Like his butthole, get it?!?  The producers really wanted you to get it - that's why they made the joke fifty-seven times.

5) Patchi's brother, Scowler, is a total douche-bag.  He talks like Biff from Back to the Future.  He says things like "Hey losers!  Ha Ha! They looked!"  That's all I have to say about him.  I wish he'd died.

Scowler

6)  At one point, when all the dinosaurs were walking across a frozen lake, I wished that they would fall in and drown so that I could go home.

7)  At the end of the movie we get to see the dopey human kid again.  Apparently he's watched the same movie that we just did even though he was standing out in the Alaskan wilderness.  He's suddenly all "PALEONTOLOGY ROCKS!!!"  and even his uncle is like "Woah, it's not that cool."  Then the bird, who literally made me feel like I was being stabbed in the brain with a fork, came back to end the movie with one more lame joke.  Then he burst out of the movie screen and followed me to the car saying things like "I know you are, but what am I?" into the back of my head.

In conclusion:  Don't see this movie.  Don't take your kids to see this movie.  Don't remind me that I've seen this movie.  The script was so bad that I wasn't even able to concentrate on how awesome the special effects probably were, and that's a pretty big shame.

 

BK

When it comes to ribs, or any meat for that matter, I'm usually willing to pay more than $1 for it.  I think it's just a good rule to live by.  But thanks for the gross offer, BK. 

Study Finds Cubicles To Be Soundproof

A recent study has found that when you take personal calls at your desk, not a single one of your cubicle neighbors can hear a word that you say.  Acoustical engineers from several leading universities have determined that an invisible, soundproof, barrier rises up out of the floor, encases you in a bubble, and prevents everybody in the immediate vicinity from hearing about your plantar fasciitis and your gambling addiction, and even that one time you may have been talking about having murdered someone.

According to researchers, it is a widely held misconception that if your cubicle neighbor is sitting on the opposite side of a one-inch-thick fabric wall, they will be forced to listen to every second of your annoying, bullshit, personal conversations.  When in truth, the study finds that you can say whatever gross, disturbing, and totally weird thing that you want, and your coworkers will just think that you're working really hard and doing your job.  They won't have heard a thing.  Not even the part about how you had diarrhea all last night.
 

The totally soundproof chambers

The rising of the invisible, soundproof, barrier may be triggered by speaking the words "Jiffy Lube," "What are we doing for Thanksgiving," and/or "Let me get on Expedia and give you a call back," although some evidence suggests that repeatedly clearing the phlegm from ones throat may also be effective.

While the invisible, soundproof, barrier has been confirmed, further research is needed to determine whether or not people standing outside of your cubicle can still see you scratching your ass.

Performance Evaluation Asks Secretary About Accomplishments, Goals

In a totally uncalled for, dick move, Human Resources has asked a secretary to complete a Performance Evaluation detailing her accomplishments from the past year.

"Are they kidding?" asks the secretary, squinting at her computer screen because she can't believe that's an actual question that anybody would ask of someone who routinely empties the K-cups out of the Keurig machine. "I mean, they've seen my job description, right?"

The Performance Evaluation, which is distributed to all employees regardless of how depressed it will make some of them, is due on November 16th.

"I haven't killed myself yet. Does that count?" sort of jokes the secretary as she tries to just click Submit without filling in any of the comment boxes. "Crap, that doesn't work."

The secretary, who has mentally run through all of her typical tasks, numerous times, is unable to pick a single one that could non-sarcastically be referred to as an accomplishment.

“Answering the phone, opening the mail, bringing the Fed Ex packages outside to the Fed Ex box. Could that be one? I mean, I always get it out there before the 6:00 p.m. pick-up time.” Upon being informed that, no, that is not an accomplishment but rather a regular duty that a Golden Retriever could perform, the secretary returns to staring despondently at her computer screen, only to find that the next question asks about goals she plans to set for the coming year.

“Christ.”

While it would seem reasonable that HR develop separate evaluations – one for employees who work on important projects and make actual decisions, and one for employees that print out Google Map directions to Town Hall – they have consistently failed to do so.

“Do they really need to rub it in my face like this?” asks the secretary, catching out of the corner of her eye the stapler that she once spent two hours trying to un-jam. “I guess I’ll just say that I plan to ‘catch up on my filing’ and maybe ‘take a class in Word’ or something.  That shows ambition, right?”

After drumming her fingers on the keyboard for several seconds, the secretary decides to type a single period into all four comment boxes before hitting Submit.  As of press time, the secretary was seen heading home to work on her second novel.

How We're Celebrating Halloween At The Office

1.  Switching to an orange highlighter.
2.  Imagining each of our coworkers dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.
3.  Wearing the black cardigan that eternally hangs from the back of our chair.
4.  Abandoning giant bag of Necco Waifers in the break room.
5.  Listening to Thriller until asked to stop.
6.  Coughing from flu virus.
7.  Egging boss's house on our lunch break.
8.  Bringing glow sticks to status meeting.
9.  Changing ringtone to Monster Mash before setting it to vibrate.
10. Leaving early.

Classroom Notifications

One of the worst things about preschool is receiving the dreaded Classroom Notification email.  These emails never notify you about anything good.  It's never "Surprise! We're keeping the kids for the weekend plus here's a coupon to Mohegan Sun!"  Usually it's about an outbreak of lice, foot & mouth disease, or conjunctivitis.  This past week I received one for a confirmed case of Fifth Disease.

Fifth Disease?  Anyone ever heard of this? I hadn't, so I consulted Wikipedia which said:  The name derives from its historical classification as the fifth of the classical childhood skin rashes (preceded by Measles, Scarlet Fever, Rubella, and Duke's Disease).  I can picture it now:

Scientist #1:  Well fellas, we've got another case of that mysterious rash.  I think it's time that we gave it a name.

Scientist #2:  Where's Duke?  He always comes up with the best names.  Well, except for Duke's Disease, he kind of just mailed that one in.

Scientist #1:  Shit, Duke's out sick today with Rubella. Now what?

Scientist #2:   I dunno.  How 'bout we call it Fifth Disease, since it's like the fifth one on the list.

Scientist #1:  You have a brilliant mind!   

According to Wikipedia, the disease is also referred to as slapped cheek syndrome, slapcheek, slap face or slapped face. There is a disease referred to as SLAP FACE?  Now the idiotic disease name makes a bit more sense, because clearly the scientists were these guys:

 

Slap Face.  As my son would say, "Real??"  Yes, real.  There is a chance we will have to take you to the doctor for a case of Slap Face.  Then, I think, I will get questioned by someone from Child Protective Services.  I can't wait for next week's notification about a confirmed case of Rotavirus - also referred to as Stinky Butt Syndrome, Poop Butt, Poopy Buttcheeks, and Stinkbum.

It's going to be a long winter. 

Pinterest is the Devil

A lot of my son's preschool friends are having birthday parties at those places that are filled with bouncy castles.  If you don't already know what that is, I don't really know how else to describe it.  I mean, it's a big room and it's filled with bouncy castles and parents stand around awkwardly in their socks trying to make small talk with other parents.  And I think they might have Wi-Fi.  Anyway, we considered having my son's party there this year, but since we are also going to Disney World we decided to just have an at-home family party instead.  Of course this morning he asks me if we're going to the bouncy place for his birthday.

Me:  "Not this time, buddy.  We're having your party at home because we're going to Disney World."
Him:   "And because that's going to be more fun than the bouncy place?"

Shit, I hope so.  I mean, you can bounce all day for about eleven bucks.  Maybe we should have discussed this before we booked the big fancy trip.

But anyway...we're having the party at home.  And in the spirit of our fun but apparently not as fun as a bouncy castle place vacation, I decided to do a Disney theme.  At first I wanted to do a Classic Mickey Mouse theme - red, black & white.  You know, this guy:

I figured I could find some decorations to buy online and then get some red and black plates & napkins.  Done and done.  But do you know what actually happens in the year 2013 when you Google the phrase "classic mickey mouse party"?  Fucking Pinterest happens.

Things started out bad:

Cupcakes with bows and Oreo cookies on sticks with at least five removable parts.  Is it even fun to eat an Oreo cookie off a stick? It seems like it would immediately crumble and fall on the floor. 

Then things got even worse.  Now we're talking homemade subway signs.  Homemade bottle labels.  HOMEMADE STRAWS.  I'm not sure what's going on in that bottom righthand picture, there seems to be a can of Coke and some Redi Whip.  Probably a special "signature" drink.  These types of parties always have a signature drink. 

And worse:

Exactly how many sets of lollipop molds do I need to invest in for this party?  Is that even a thing?  I take solace in the fact that every kid leaving this party is in for a boatload of cavities. 

And worse still:

Now they're bringing mason jars into it.  Totally uncalled for.  Never mind that I'll need to get out some sort of drill in order to make the straw holes.  You may as well ask me to make corn on the cob in the middle of the afternoon. 

Then there's the popcorn buffet, because to throw a party like this you need to have invited at least 350 people:

I'm not sure why Goofy is pulling an American Pie on that bowl of caramel corn.  Pull yourself together, man.  This is a children's party.  Of course there are also take away bags for the popcorn with three different stickers to hold it shut:

Don't get me wrong, all of these parties are gorgeous and I would love to do them if I had unlimited time and money.  I obviously write all of this out of total and complete jealousy. But I'd also love to be able to buy some of this stuff from Party Express if it were an option.  It's not an option.  If you want to do any of this you have to craft it yourself.  Or you have to hire someone to craft it for you and spend the equivalent of a small Bar Mitzvah.  Unfortunately, most of us can't do either of those things. Yet Pinterest bombards us with these pictures of what a "good" Mickey Mouse party should look like. It used to be that we only saw these pictures in magazines, and we knew that real people weren't actually doing it.  But with Pinterest, we start to think it's the norm. 

Fortunately for my family, what was an option at Party Express was this 8 pack of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse cups (or "goblets," if you will):

And these bags of chips from Stop & Shop:

And these favor bags with a star on them from Target:

The only signature drink that we will be having is a packet of grape Kool-Aid that my son is super excited about.  I think it will be okay.  And if not, who cares? We're going to Disney World.