This is a rake with a flashlight attached.
- Woke up screaming.
- While getting the kids ready for school, I read the “Pre-Surgery” instructions. I learned that I was supposed to be scrubbing my loins for the past five days. I’m sure my cursory “soap across the balls” does not meet their definition of scrubbing.
- Kissed Miss Sally goodbye and confirmed that she would be picking me up at noon thirty.
- Got in the shower and gave myself a good 2 ½ days worth of scrubbing action. By 1867 standards, I would be blind now.
- I shaved my balls.
- I got out of the… hold on, what? You SHAVED YOUR BALLS? That’s right. The instructions said to shave them and they got shaved. I pulled out my grooming kit. Knocked the shrubbery down as short as the guard on the electric trimmer would let me and then I jumped in the shower. Balls are not a good medium to be dragging a sharp blade across. And the reason I know this is because I spent a full 30 minutes bent over and staring at my ugly, wrinkly, bigger than average, dropped melon shaped nutsack. Men, don’t ever examine your balls with your eyes. Check for cancer, but do so with your eyes closed. Women, kudos to you for even getting within three feet of that withered fruit, change purse. Shaving balls is like trying to wrap a coat hanger around a whipped cream covered balloon. As soon as pressure is applied, skin around the man grapes distorts and deflects away from the blade. I found it best to stretch the loose skin in a tennis racquet stringer to create the proper tension on the surface. Let's just say I pulled things taut and did the best I could. Thirty minutes later, I was done.
- I got out of the shower, got dressed and went to Target to buy
tidytighty-whities like the instructions suggested. I also bought two bags of frozen peas. And Swedish Fish (Comfort food, not for a dissolving stitches replacement).
- Back at home, I put on tidy-whities for the first time in 25 years. At least now
tidytighty-whities come in different colors.
- Sally picked me up and we drove to the MD office. Checked in and only waited 2 minutes before being called back. The MD assistant was very, very cute. We went to room #7. She told me to remove my clothes below the waist and hang them up. It was then that I realized that she would be seeing my shaved balls and cold, shriveled penis. Usually, I bone up very easily and would be concerned/embarrassed about that, but I was nervous and cold and more concerned that the cute chick would have trouble deciding which was balls and which was penis.
- I got undressed and sat on the table. She came back in and gave me a sheet to cover my shame. I laid back and she got everything in the room ready for the surgery. From this point on, I did not look down and instead counted the holes in the ceiling tiles.
- Doc came in and we had some chit chat about the music on the radio and that he was going to feel me up like he did at the previous examination. He then gave me a good scrubbing with some soapy something. I haven’t had that kind of action from a guy in months.
- Surgical pads were placed around my loins so that only my balls were showing. The pads had adhesive on them, but I didn’t find that out until the end.
- There was a shot, some numbing, a little pressure, a little more pressure some chit chat. Then another shot, more pressure, a lot of talk about my work and then it was done.
- Stitch, stitch. That quick.
In December of 2012, Keegan and I were in Las Vegas for an exhibit installation at the Discovery Children's Museum. We were wrapping up the installation, but had to extend our stay due to some delays and city inspections that, oddly enough, took place over the weekend.
|Saturday night after a successful inspection.|
On that Sunday, we decided to go to see Hoover Dam after we
did some laundry. Keegan said to me, “You must be out of clean underwear by
now,” and I replied, “Duh, of course,” secretly smirking because I know the
secret of wearing the same pair of underwear four times. The hotel didn’t do
laundry over the weekend, so we went in search of a laundry mat. Las Vegas must
have some larger aversion of Sunday laundry because we went to three different laundry
mats and they were all closed. The third location we tried was next to a Target,
so Keegan said that we could just buy underwear, so we did. I wish I had photos
of Keegan and I going through the underwear rack and gleefully comparing the
different brands, sizes, and colors. More than likely, Target probably has security
footage of it that they watch when in need of entertainment.
Underwear purchased, we headed to Hoover Dam for a day of tourist fun and then traveled home a few days later.
|Keegan on the bypass bridge overlooking Hoover Dam|
|What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas|
After returning to work for a week, Keegan and I were summoned to the front desk. We had turned in our trip expenses and the Finance Woman in charge of going through the receipts had some questions for us. She had clearly been interrogating Keegan already, because he looked physically and mentally spent.
Keegan had tried to explain to Finance Woman that it was not his fault that the trip was extended, and we didn’t have any other alternatives. She said that she didn’t care what the circumstances were, but he couldn’t expense underwear. I quickly understood that Keegan had put his underwear on his expenses for reimbursement. I had not. I believe Keegan had purchased a few other things at Target that were normal expense items and, shit, why not get the underwear paid for as well. Our company would normally pay for clothes washing services, but it seems they had a real problem with paying $9.99 for three pairs of underwear.
Keegan tried to argue that, if he had used the hotel washing services, it would have cost $30 and he was actually saving the company money. She didn’t buy that. She said the company would not pay for clothes the employees kept. That’s when Keegan came up with a brilliant idea: he would give the underwear back to the company. They would become Installation Underwear. We would keep them in the job box, and if an employee out on an installation ever needed a pair, due to an extended install or pants soiling event, they could use a loaner pair of Installation Underwear.
It was a game changing innovation.
She said no.
Keegan was not reimbursed for his underwear, but I think him paying $9.99 for story that will last a lifetime is completely worth it.
The group decided to create a new set of Christian friendly names for the days of the week and then petition their state and federal representatives to force the government to make it official. The team of representatives from 37 churches gathered at Our Peoples of God’s Church in Columbus, Ohio to decide upon the new, Christian friendly names.
Debate started immediately when someone suggested changing Sunday to "God's Day." It seemed like an obvious change, until one member shouted out that every day is God’s day and they should not narrow it down to one single day. For an hour, debate raged between going with the assumption that everyone would understand that everyday is God’s day and the opposite end of the spectrum of calling Sunday, "God's Day 1" and going through the week in order "God's Day 2", "God's Day 3" and so on. In the end it was decided to call Sunday “Church Day” with the understanding that everyone knows that every day is God's Day.
For the next several hours, the rest of the days of the week were pounded out. Monday would become "Work Day." Tuesday would become "Spirit Day." There was a difference of opinion if Wednesday or Thursday should be called "Wash Day" as different people bathe and do laundry on different days of the week. As many members attend their individual churches on Wednesday as well, they decided to replace Wednesday with “Wash Up Day” to play upon the words sounding like “worship day.” Thursday is to become known as "Love Day" and everyone agreed to call Friday "Pizza Night Day." Saturday, of course, will be known as "The Day Before Church Day."
The Christian Guardians of His Word have put together a statement of suggestion and will begin petitioning their representatives in the new year on Love Day the 4th in God’s Month 2.
What has become of HolyJuan.com when I am posting automotive repair?
We have a 2007 Honda Accord. One day it had the following issues:
headlights not working
blinkers not working
rear passenger side window not working
remote entry not working
(could have been more issue but this was the lot of them)
The engine still started, the hazard lights worked, and the regular windshield wipers worked.
In questioning my son, he said he had left the driver's window open when it rained and the issues started the next day.
In researching on the internet, it seemed there were several people that had slightly similar issues with various Honda make and models. Dissimilar electrical systems all having issues. Solutions given were to check fuses, replacing bulbs, and even to replace the whole fuse units under the hood and at the driver's side dash underside (yikes!)
My solution was to pop out the power window controller and unplug both sets of wires. With the wires disconnected, everything not associated with that control panel worked again. I plugged the wires back in and everything worked again. Thinking I randomly fixed the issue with a loose wire, I popped the power window controller back in and everything stopped working. I removed it again. Removed the wires. Most everything worked. This time I left the turn signal, plugged in both sets of wires, and popped it back in. This time, the blinker stayed on and everything worked.
I assume that I knocked the water out or rubbed the corrosion off or something in my plugging and unplugging. I left a tool in the glove compartment so that if it happens again, my son can temporarily fix it. If you remove the wires from the power window controller, the windows won't work, but he can get home with headlights and blinkers.
I will continue to monitor this and update if needed.
I hope this helps you!
I like this video. I have watched it several times and have come to understand myself a little bit better because of this video. I can only hope that you learn a little bit about yourself or that you learn that I am creepy. More creepy.
Please absorb and remember to play this loud and alone:
So here is my list of reasons for liking this, kind of in order as they appear in the video:
No make up
Detail to the twisting leg
Hair stuck on lip
In the end, it's the crinkled nose that did it for me. I don't know why, but when a girl gives you the crinkled nose, it's pretty much on.
Please contact us with the following information:
1. Your full name, email address, and your relationship to the Zombie.
2. The username of the Twitter account, or a link to the last Tweet they made suggesting that they were bit and feeling ill.
3. A link to a news article or video of the Zombie eating brains.
You can contact us at email@example.com, or by mail or fax:
795 Folsom Street, Suite 600
San Francisco, CA 94107
Please note that Twitter cannot fix the formatting for long Zombie words like Mmmmmmhhhhhhhhhgggggggggggggggggggg, Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgunh, or Rwwwwwwwwwwrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh.
Please note that we cannot do anything about loved ones who turn into vampires. We don’t deal with that shit.
We did a test the first week to see if my content was what they were looking for. I sent them three extended Fake Dispatch posts. Their response was that they were not looking for me to write fake news but to comment on real news. I said I would make an attempt.
For me, it is difficult to write funny commentary on real, local topics, because at some point, someone's feelings are going to get hurt. When I write something made up, there is a buffer of lies between my jokes and others' emotions. But I gave it my best. That next week, I sent them a new set of Fake Dispatch "hot takes" with real, humorous commentary.
Between that first week and the second week, something unexpected happened at this local publication where they reconsidered publishing political commentary. It was an unfortunate coincidence, but Boy was I Proud of the opportunity to try this writing challenge. They said, "thanks, but no thanks" and my work was never to see the light of day.
So here it is in the light of day! Here's what I would like to do: I'm going to post the first "fake" article and its complimentary "real" piece. The last two don't align on topic, but you get the idea. Let me know what you think.
Teh Ohio State University
There is the right way to do things, the wrong way to do things, and then the wrong way that is the best right way you have. My favorite type of wrong/best-right is the one that comes through getting cornered and fighting one’s way out of the problem.
|Metin and Keegan at the hardware store.|
- apply various metric fittings (failed without even turning the water on)
- shove the smaller tube inside the larger tube (it fits tightly, but the water pressure pops it out, with water shooting out like a rouge fire-hose)
- shove the smaller tube inside the larger tube and use a hose clamp to compress (still pops out, water less everywhere as we were prepared this time)
- all the above and use two hose clamps (STILL POPS OUT)
|Court and Chris working on a boiling water fountain|
Since writing this article in March, I've taken a new position with another company. Last night, we had a going away party at a bar and many of my co-workers showed up to say goodbye. AJ was one of those folks and he said he had a gift for me.
The day after I told people I was leaving our company, AJ secretly came by my desk, took the "If it works, it works" hose assembly and replaced it with a decoy. You can see from the image below that the decoy was so close the the original that I didn't notice and brought it home in a box with my other desk crap.
|The decoy - damn good!|
Just in case I did notice, AJ slipped a note in his decoy.
So last night at the going away party, AJ presented me with this:
And like I said above, "If it were mounted to a walnut plaque with a little bronze plate, I think the inscription would say, “If It Works, It Works – September 2015”.
Quite possibly the most thoughtful gift I have ever received. Thanks, AJ. And goodbye. I will miss you.
In 1999, COSI, the Center of Science and Industry, moved from one location to another. On the last day at the old facility, we marched down a few blocks to the new location, which was still under construction. At the new digs, there was a big event to celebrate the move. Everyone on the COSI team had an opportunity to go up on a platform hand get a handshake and a photo with our CEO Dr. Kathy Sullivan and Dimon McFerson, CEO of Nationwide Insurance.
As you can see from this other photo from the event, Stuart (a man who knew beards before they became popular) is posed in the proper position with everyone following protocol.
I had a different plan.
I knew that Kathy and Dimon would continue to follow the procedure of:
1. position team member between the two
2. thank yous
3. hand shakes
4. pose for photo
5. push them off the platform and wait for the next person
My plan was slightly modified in that right before the photo was taken, I was going to turn and kiss Kathy on the cheek.
It was the perfect plan. All my other co-workers were following the rules and doing a great job of keeping the process flowing. I knew that no one else would think to do the turn-and-kiss and once I did it, no one would be able to copy it.
It was finally my turn.
Up on the platform.
Thank you. Thank you.
Pose for photo.
At the moment that I turned my head to kiss Kathy on the cheek... SHE DID THE SAME.
Our lips met. We both recoiled in surprise with laughter. CLICK!
So now, take a second look at that first photo. We are laughing and wide eyed in surprise. Dimon didn't know what had happened and was a little confused.
I was shuffled off the platform and we all had a good laugh.
I didn't know for a few weeks that the photo was not of us kissing. That's what you got back then with film. The photo was taken just a second too late. I was disappointed that there was no kiss photo, but the picture I have still tells the story.
I wonder if she tells her friends about the time she got to kiss me?