The resemblance is uncanny.
Return Envelope Surprise
On one of my last days at my old job, I was offered a look at one of our postage paid return envelopes that had been delivered back to our offices. Normally this envelope would be filled with very, very boring stuff.
Here is the envelope. Looks like the sender is a supporter of stopping breast cancer.
Here's the back. Puppy and kitten stickers!
And inside...
Good old American porn.
I have done similar things with obnoxious mailings from credit card companies, except normally I just take the stuff out of one credit card application and switch it with the stuff from another. This was genius.
And it was real porn. I just arranged the pages so the really good stuff was face down. And I did not get excited by the content. I just had to go pee right afterwards.
Here is the envelope. Looks like the sender is a supporter of stopping breast cancer.
Here's the back. Puppy and kitten stickers!
And inside...
Good old American porn.
I have done similar things with obnoxious mailings from credit card companies, except normally I just take the stuff out of one credit card application and switch it with the stuff from another. This was genius.
And it was real porn. I just arranged the pages so the really good stuff was face down. And I did not get excited by the content. I just had to go pee right afterwards.
Fuck1ng Pa$$word
At my previous place of employment, our credit card system required you to change your password every three months. Because I only accessed my credit card program once a month, it seem like I was changing it all the time. This made me very angry every time I had to think of a new password. Because I was accessing the program so infrequently, I would have to write the password down. So every third time I would cross off the old password and write the new password down.
Button Weed follow up
It turns out that there really is something called Buttonweed: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diodia
Button Weed
Call me a liar, but it's true... I don't smoke weed. It makes my hands feel big and my head thrums with every heartbeat. I just don't like it. I prefer a safer alternative, like alcohol. But I have some friends that like weed. This is a story about one time when my friend smoked button weed.
We had gone to Cleveland to visit friends. While there at my buddy's apartment, a few of his friends popped by. We were getting ready to head out to a concert/bar, when one of the chicks asked if anyone wanted to smoke some weed. A few did, so they stepped out back.
When they were done, we headed out to the show and then to a bar. All throughout the night, my stoned friend said nothing. He was really, really stoned. Once we were finally at the bar, I asked him when he was going to start speaking again. He said as soon as he remembered what vowels were. The next morning we questioned him as to why he was so stoned. He said that he didn't know and that it must have been the button weed.
I don't know about you, but I am not wise to the different kinds of weed out there. I know you can roll it or smoke it out of a pipe, but that's the extent of my knowledge. When he said "button weed" I assumed it was some type of potent, compressed weed that was in the shape of a button. A fabricated, easy to use portion that you might drop in a pipe or bong. An easy size to sell and transport. (This is starting to sound like a commercial.)
For the past two years, at times when people started talking about weed, I would bring up my friend and his experience with button weed. For some reason, button weed must be a Cleveland thing because no one had heard of it.
Last week found us back up in Cleveland for a less exciting trip. But the story about my friend being stoned came up again and the phrase button weed was mentioned. I remarked that the button weed must be a very regional drug because no one else had heard of it. My friends looked at me as if I was crazy. I explained what I thought button weed was... little, potent, button sized, compressed.
My friends laughed and laughed.
As it turns out, button weed was not used to describe what the weed was but rather what the girl kept it in: the little plastic bag that extra jacket buttons come in. She kept her weed in that bag and there were still some buttons in it with the weed. Button weed.
I'm an idiot.
We had gone to Cleveland to visit friends. While there at my buddy's apartment, a few of his friends popped by. We were getting ready to head out to a concert/bar, when one of the chicks asked if anyone wanted to smoke some weed. A few did, so they stepped out back.
When they were done, we headed out to the show and then to a bar. All throughout the night, my stoned friend said nothing. He was really, really stoned. Once we were finally at the bar, I asked him when he was going to start speaking again. He said as soon as he remembered what vowels were. The next morning we questioned him as to why he was so stoned. He said that he didn't know and that it must have been the button weed.
I don't know about you, but I am not wise to the different kinds of weed out there. I know you can roll it or smoke it out of a pipe, but that's the extent of my knowledge. When he said "button weed" I assumed it was some type of potent, compressed weed that was in the shape of a button. A fabricated, easy to use portion that you might drop in a pipe or bong. An easy size to sell and transport. (This is starting to sound like a commercial.)
For the past two years, at times when people started talking about weed, I would bring up my friend and his experience with button weed. For some reason, button weed must be a Cleveland thing because no one had heard of it.
Last week found us back up in Cleveland for a less exciting trip. But the story about my friend being stoned came up again and the phrase button weed was mentioned. I remarked that the button weed must be a very regional drug because no one else had heard of it. My friends looked at me as if I was crazy. I explained what I thought button weed was... little, potent, button sized, compressed.
My friends laughed and laughed.
As it turns out, button weed was not used to describe what the weed was but rather what the girl kept it in: the little plastic bag that extra jacket buttons come in. She kept her weed in that bag and there were still some buttons in it with the weed. Button weed.
I'm an idiot.
The Shot
Jen and Robert's wedding was great yesterday. It was wonderful catching up with old friends.
Many drinks were consumed and after we were "asked" to leave the reception, the seven of us walked over to The Tip Top. Some of us ordered drinks. Some of us drank water. One of the water drinkers, who we will call "Mr. G", grew quiet. Then, he quietly walked off behind a planter and reduced the load of wine and cookies in his belly.
Mr. G returned to the table as if nothing had happened.
A few minutes later, Mr. G wandered off again to the delight of everyone on that patio. We couldn't see Mr. G as he had wandered off down the street a good ways, but we knew when he was puking because the crowd down at the other end would release a "whoa!" every time he puked. They said "whoa!" about five times.
Mr. G returned and was very proud that he didn't get his tie dirty.
Ten minutes later, one of the people on the patio that had been yelling "whoa!" showed up at our table with a present for Mr. G.
It was a shot with a lemon on the side. I assumed it was tequila.
Holy shit we laughed. Mr. G took the shot from the dude and was very polite at trying to turn it down. The guy was insistent that Mr. G try the shot. For a split second, we thought he was about to take it. Then he set it down on the table and didn't touch it again.
A few scientific tests later we discovered it was just water with a lemon.
Whoever you are, Shot Guy, thank you for the laugh.
And thank you Mr. G for being a good sport.
Congratulations Jen and Robert!
Many drinks were consumed and after we were "asked" to leave the reception, the seven of us walked over to The Tip Top. Some of us ordered drinks. Some of us drank water. One of the water drinkers, who we will call "Mr. G", grew quiet. Then, he quietly walked off behind a planter and reduced the load of wine and cookies in his belly.
Mr. G returned to the table as if nothing had happened.
A few minutes later, Mr. G wandered off again to the delight of everyone on that patio. We couldn't see Mr. G as he had wandered off down the street a good ways, but we knew when he was puking because the crowd down at the other end would release a "whoa!" every time he puked. They said "whoa!" about five times.
Mr. G returned and was very proud that he didn't get his tie dirty.
Ten minutes later, one of the people on the patio that had been yelling "whoa!" showed up at our table with a present for Mr. G.
It was a shot with a lemon on the side. I assumed it was tequila.
Holy shit we laughed. Mr. G took the shot from the dude and was very polite at trying to turn it down. The guy was insistent that Mr. G try the shot. For a split second, we thought he was about to take it. Then he set it down on the table and didn't touch it again.
A few scientific tests later we discovered it was just water with a lemon.
Whoever you are, Shot Guy, thank you for the laugh.
And thank you Mr. G for being a good sport.
Congratulations Jen and Robert!
Erik Eats: MARATHON!
For those of you unaware, Erik and I no longer work together. Let's just say that those sexual harassment "guidelines" actually stand up in court. What this means is that our "Erik Eats" segments are going to be few and far between.
The only good news to all of this is that the food we had stockpiled in my cubical needed Eats and Erik was on board to plow his way through everything we had left. So at my going away party at Hal & Al's in Columbus, OH, we did it.
So here it is: The Erik Eats Marathon.
A bright orange package arrives! What could it contain?
Open carefully!
Oh dear! A treasure trove of delightful solids and liquids!!
It's Super Supau Drink and Kuai Kuai Corn Snack!
And look! Some kind of lollipop thing and Preserved Fruit of Haw!
MORE?
Some kind of crayon shaped food. (With a premature thumbs up.)
Hyper Cool Gum!
How did this get in there?
Let us begin.
Kuai Kuai Corn Snack BAG OPEN!
Smell?
It's just the sweet, sweet smell of coconut.
Eat one.
Eat many!
Nom nom nom nom nom nom.
Erik says.... delicious!
Next!
It's Preserved Fruit of Haw!
It's Preserved Fruit of Haw in a pre-opened package that maybe we might have already gotten into because we were hungry!
Erik removes the last individually wrapped stick of haw fruit from the package.
Erik struggles to remove the wrapper.
Look! A friend has joined us. It's Freckled Jen to the rescue.
Even with Jen's help, Erik struggles to get the wrapper off. Perhaps it is the flashbacks to years ago as an awkward 24 year old when he had trouble getting a wrapper off something else for the first time?
Erik goes in for the age old "Lady and the Tramp" move.
Fail!
Failure or not, Erik goes in for the kill.
Decision?
STILL MORE TO COME!!
The only good news to all of this is that the food we had stockpiled in my cubical needed Eats and Erik was on board to plow his way through everything we had left. So at my going away party at Hal & Al's in Columbus, OH, we did it.
So here it is: The Erik Eats Marathon.
A bright orange package arrives! What could it contain?
Open carefully!
Oh dear! A treasure trove of delightful solids and liquids!!
It's Super Supau Drink and Kuai Kuai Corn Snack!
And look! Some kind of lollipop thing and Preserved Fruit of Haw!
MORE?
Some kind of crayon shaped food. (With a premature thumbs up.)
Hyper Cool Gum!
How did this get in there?
Let us begin.
Kuai Kuai Corn Snack BAG OPEN!
Smell?
It's just the sweet, sweet smell of coconut.
Eat one.
Eat many!
Nom nom nom nom nom nom.
Erik says.... delicious!
Next!
It's Preserved Fruit of Haw!
It's Preserved Fruit of Haw in a pre-opened package that maybe we might have already gotten into because we were hungry!
Erik removes the last individually wrapped stick of haw fruit from the package.
Erik struggles to remove the wrapper.
Look! A friend has joined us. It's Freckled Jen to the rescue.
Even with Jen's help, Erik struggles to get the wrapper off. Perhaps it is the flashbacks to years ago as an awkward 24 year old when he had trouble getting a wrapper off something else for the first time?
Erik goes in for the age old "Lady and the Tramp" move.
Fail!
Failure or not, Erik goes in for the kill.
Decision?
STILL MORE TO COME!!
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