I'd like to take a moment to thank the Post-Gazette and Oreo Cookies for providing me with nightmare fodder for the next several months:
As both of you who read this blog may have noticed, the number of spelling and grammatical errors have increased considerably since I came back from my extended hiatus. This is not (generally) because of my 2 bottles of wine/day habit, as one may have assumed. Instead, I have recently made the great leap in computing technology from a TRS-80 to an iPad 2.
The upgrade was mandated by my Cats, who were tired of trying to wedge themselves between my lap and the keyboard and decided that, rather than argue with me over the issue, they would work together to push the 50 pound behemoth off of my desk, causing it to shatter into a hundred thousand little bits. Also, I did want to play a version of Angry Birds that didn't involve me chucking the entire computer at a flock of birds.
So, I don't begrudge the change, but the iPad 2 is much more difficult to compose long strings of prose than the old computer. For some reason, the iPad 2 hates the letters "t", "h", and "e", so "this" becomes "his" or "is", "the" becomes "he" or "e", and "rhythm" becomes "rym". This I attribute to my disturbing monkey-like, sausage fingers and decades of learning how to touch type (at the expense of not learning how to play the piano), which has made me unable to type with fluidity on what is basically an expensive pane of glass. Sure, it's light and convenient, but I look like an awkward hipster Tyrannosaurus now.
Anywho, as noted at the bottom of the page here spelling and grammatical errors are "par for the course", so if I see them, I'll fix them, but if I don't... well, just ignore the mistak.
PittGirl or Virginia or Ginny or whatever nom de blog she wants to go by now made an excellent point about lawyers and the suing off of pantalones and what not and so forth. But, still here are some points that I feel to be salient... apropos of nothing in particular:
* It's amazing how much information can come out after you feel that you are absolutely secure in a position. We have discovered, for example, that Clarence Thomas has uncontrollable flatulence.As I said, irrespective of nothing in particular.
* Certain decisions are not made lightly, without great thought and reflection. It would be hard to believe that life changing decisions could be made over the course of only three weeks. This is why it took so long for the Obamas to choose a puppy.
* I remember Michael Diven getting criticized at one point for showing a campaign picture of his "happy family," which, if I recall correctly turned out to be his fiancee and nephew.
* The City of Pittsburgh (or at least Pittsburghers) is notorious for not talking out loud about giant elephants in the room, choosing instead to whisper quietly. It is a small City. Things happen. For example: we know you're bald Jim M.
* Not denying is not a denial. Saying that you're not going to comment is a comment. Denying that you won't deny that will not comment, means you won't comment... I think.
* Shoes drop in pairs, or in racks if you've happened to plow into a Payless.
* Some things are more important than governing. Edward VIII gave up his kingdom for "the woman he loved;" Richard III gave up his for a horse. To each his own.
* One can pretty much be a magistrate for life.
Wouldn't it be easier for Tom Corbett to indict everyone in Harrisburg and just figure out what they did later? There's enough of them; statistically, they're all guilty of something.
Alternatively, anybody want to bet that Auditor General (and potential opponent for the Governorship) Jack Wagner releases a competing report saying that entire State House is grossly mismanaged and inefficient, just to show up Corbett?
(Of course, where would anyone get an idea like that?)
I was cleaning out my inbox today and found this little gem:
OK, first, somehow I doubt that British Telecom has a .cn domain level. Call it a hunch.
Our industrious moles, spies, and assorted whistle blowing, stool pigeons have infiltrated the diaries and email accounts of several prominent local figures, and have sent us their personal, private New Years Resolutions for the up coming... er... new year:
[Pittsburgh Mayor] Luke Ravenstahl - Resolves to find some inexperienced sucker to run against him in May, maybe a fetus.
[County Chief Executive] Dan Onorato - Resolves to do absolutely nothing that would in any way stand in the way of him running for Governor, and to rebury that hooker somewhere other than in his backyard.
[Pittsburgh Councilman] Jim Motznik - Resolves to find a job that is cushier and involves less "brain thinkin'" -- possibly as some sort of magistrate.
[URA Executive Director] Rob Stephany - Will Resolve (tm) the awful Pat Ford smell out of his office.
[Mayoral Chief of Staff] Yarone Zober - Resolves to exceed everyone's expectations.
[KDKA News Reporter] Sonni Abatta - Resolves to stop spitting in co-anchor Stacy Smith's coffee.
[KDKA News Reporter] Stacy Smith - Resolves to stop stealing Jeff Verszyla's coffee.
[Pittsburgh Pirate's General Manager] Neal Huntington - Resolves to find out what this "winning" thing is everyone's talking about.
[Pittsburgh Steeler's Kicker] Jeff Reed - Resolves to bring the creepiness factor down to a seven.
[Casino Owner] Neil Bluhm - Resolves to squeeze every last penny from every pensioner within a three county radius.
And finally,
[Lamar Advertising executive] Jim Vlasach - Given the economic circumstances, resolves to invest less money in Ford.
We will be out of the office all day today buying carpet.
So, while we're off trying to decide if berber or pile will look best in our '68 VW Van, please take this opportunity to read the following:
I have nothing substantial to say about the Presidential commuting of the Libby sentence except for the following:
1) When the news broke, I had been incommunicado for about a week after having perfected my Henry-David Thoreau impression. This was the first actual news I had heard for what seemed like an age.
2) But it was immediately drummed out by the cacophony that is cable news, forcing the item to share equal time with such nonsense as "is chocolate good for you?" and "woman gets face blown off by illegal fireworks." That's sad.
3) The events have me furious in ways that make it difficult to type. As a bureaucrat, I am the willing servant of the rules and am compelled, nay, required to use my skills consistent with and pursuant to those rules. The arbitrary breaking of rules based on what I want or to protect my own interests would be grounds for termination, and with good cause. Of course, I'm not the President and cannot willingly ignore the law at a whim.
4) In the Olbermann clip that has been floating around the Internets, he mentions that "Even Richard Nixon knew it was time to resign." I would take issue with his characterization that the current administration is akin to Nixon's... with the incompentancy and the cronyism, I would say it was more like Harding.
Of course, Harding had the good sense to die in office.
Every now and then, I have to shake out my head and gather the assorted half-jokes, near posts, and other miscellany that fall out. This is one such post:
With the promotion of Trotsky et al it seems obvious to me that the only way that you can get ahead in the Ravenstahl Administration is to commit some sort of domestic abuse. Heads up Mesdames Costa, Graziano, Tutsock, Onorato, Dettore, Stern, Petite, Ashley, McCaughan, and Specter: you may find yourselve "running into doorknobs" or "falling down stairs" in the near future.
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Grant's s word nets $1.6 million at auction. I wonder what that word was. My guess is "solipsistic," but it could've just as easily have been "Scotch."
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Fetus stashing? I didn't realize that fetuses were something you could stash, like old Ramen Noodles. I figured that you'd want your fetuses catalogued and organized, not just tossed in the back of the closet.
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So Dick Cheney says that he's not part of the executive branch and not subject to executive orders, as he's the President of the Senate. Curses! Dick has foiled the Democrats again. If only they had some power in the Senate...
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They're cutting PAT bus routes again in September. This is probably a question for Jim Rohr or anyone else in the Region that runs a 24hr business that needs low wage employees, but how much will these cutbacks affect those kinds of businesses? Perhaps the head of the Allegheny Conference should start looking into that kind of thing. A lot of good a shiny operations center is going to do you if you can't staff it between 11 PM and 7 AM.
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OK, that's it. I'm running away to Glacier National Park to live as a homeless person.
From the New York Times:
One of the most salient features of our culture is that there is so much bullshit. Everyone knows this. Each of us contributes his share. But we tend to take the situation for granted. Most people are rather confident of their ability to recognize bullshit and to avoid being taken in by it. So the phenomenon has not aroused much deliberate concern, nor attracted much sustained inquiry.Awesome.
Just when I thought I was feeling better, I found My Super Sweet Sixteen from MTV and threw up for an hour and a half.
Series guide: Rich teenage girls spend more than your yearly salary on a damn party.
From Episode #103:
The perfect party begins with the perfect venue. For Ava, this is the Four Seasons Hotel. Her mother doesn't agree with all of Ava's lavish plans. Ava's dad proves easier to persuade. He can't say no to his daughter.
Next, Ava must choose four members of the Loyola polo team to carry her during her grand entrance. She has three requirements--the boys must be cute, sexy and have good bodies. The candidates take off their shirts and practice lifting Ava before she chooses.
A party isn't complete without presents. Ava's father takes her to test drive different cars. Although "red is the closest color to pink" in the lot, Ava chooses a black Range Rover. Her dad is hesitant about her decision. He feels the car is too big for her to handle. "I will never settle for anything less than a Range Rover," Ava says.
Back to feeling a bit more than slightly human, although I haven't been wearing pants for 43 of the last 48 hours... which is probably, now that I think about it, the other reason they asked me to go home from work today. One would have thought that I would have noticed the slight chill at my loins. One would have also thought that somebody could have brought it up at staff meeting.
Anywho, while I'm continuing my recovery, feel free to discuss what Dillon's Rule and Hunter v. Pittsburgh have to tell us with respect to the proposed solutions to the City of Pittsburgh Financial Crisis. For extra credit, try to refrain from referring to any distinguished members of Pennsylvania's Legislature as "dicks" or "bitches."
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This post brought to you by: Luke Warm Cup of Green Tea
So as soon as I realized that the Bush Social Security proposal was beginning to make sense to me, I knew that I was hallucinating again.
That and when my boss came up to me and said, "You look terrible. Why are you here?" I took that to mean that I should go home and not that they're now firing the ugly people. Just as well, my productivity was at 0 and inching downwards.
I now believe that I have the Plague, or SARS, or the Flu, or a nasty cold... or something. In any case, it's back to bed for me after some of the white people's ancient remedy for SARS (a bowl of chicken noodle soup, some Sprite, and some Ny-Quil).
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This post brought to you by The White People's Ancient Remedy for SARS
As the delusions of buttery popcorn have subsided, I managed to get out of bed and into work. Still not feeling 100%, but well enough to make irrational decisions.
Realized yesterday that posting while hallucinating isn't fun if it's caused by an illness. Posting while drunk is hysterical.
Needless to say, posts will be few until the screen stops waving about.
In the last 3+ years I have worked at THE BUREAUCRACY, I've not taken a sick day.
Until today.
Stupid head cold is causing me to cough, sweat, and labor under the delusion that I'm Orville Redenbacher; all of which are more than enough reasons not to go to work.
More to come between hacking coughing fits and various bowls of our light and tasty popcorn.
There's nothing more depressing in this job than waking up in the morning, opening up the newspaper, and finding out that you're a dick.
Just thought I'd mention that.
Over a shot of what tasted like Easter throwup, Furrow and I had a discussion about the greatest cover song ever. I maintain it is All Along the Watchtower by Bob Dillon as covered by Jimi Hendrix. Furrow has some different ideas.
While Furrow makes some points, I still hold by my original statement: All Along the Watchtower is the greatest cover, ever.
Those that say otherwise will be the first up against the wall when the revolution comes. [The revolution will be about minutiae, apparently.]
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This post brought to you by: Red Wine.
There are a lot of ugly people downtown in THE CITY, and I just don't mean regular ugly... I mean CARNIVAL ugly.
