Archive for June, 2013


I need to record this story while it’s still fresh in my mind and I’m not completely sober.

We’re at Hooters tonight (normal Thursday), me and Rob, but what isn’t normal is that they’re showing the 30th annual Hooters swimsuit pageant.  While, we’re watching, they pass out free copies of Hooters magazine, which contain pictures of all of the contestants.

So midnight comes around and although they’ve announced the 5 (out of 60) finalists, they haven’t gotten to the winner yet.  And then DirecTV cuts out. Seriously? You’re going to leave us in suspense, DirecTV?  And so then I start making jokes that I probably wouldn’t have made if I hadn’t been on my second pitcher of beer.

“I guess I’m just gonna have to go home and jack off to all 5 since I don’t know who won.” And then, of course, Rob is like, “he isn’t even joking.”  So then I say, “Hell, I may expand the pool and give the others a ‘mercy jerk.'”  And that’s when everyone started busting out laughing. (Everyone being me, Rob, Susan, and our acquaintance Williams.)  We laughed so hard.

We then started drunkenly brainstorming.  Let’s make a “mercy jerk” calendar – nothin’ but runners up. We could market mercy jerk socks, mercy jerk tissues.  Mercy Jerkin’… who needs lotion when you’ve got sympathy tears.

Of course, mercy jerk has a different definition on Urban Dictionary, but we were having too much fun with the spontaneous idea we had come up with.  And Rob decides to register mercyjerk.com on GoDaddy… and it’s not already taken!

Where this idea goes, who knows.  I just think it’s funny as hell, but Rob thinks we might be on to something.  I guess we’ll see.


I was thinking the other day about how working in an office is a great way to lose your individuality… or at least have it suppressed.  Everyone is expected to behave a certain way. Everyone is expected to dress a certain way. They want you to adopt their way of communication.  It’s about the group, not the individual.

For 5 days a week, you’re expected to fit into a particular mold.  If you have something to say, you have to figure out how to communicate it within certain guidelines.  Perception is your enemy, and intentions don’t matter. Frustration must be contained. Don’t do anything to damage the hive mind. Everyone must adapt.

Do you remember who you are? Who you used to be?  Before corporate buzzwords and drone mentality infected your person? Do you remember what it’s like to express a contrary thought?  When was the last time you had an opinion that rubbed others the wrong way?

Instead of agreeing to disagree, can we just disagree?  Am I allowed to hate?  Am I allowed to have politically incorrect thoughts? Am I allowed to do something you don’t like even though I’m forced to like everything you do?

Goddammit, I am a PERSON. I am an INDIVIDUAL. I am NOT A ROBOT. I like what I like for the same reason that you like what you like, but that does NOT mean that I have to like what you like or care about what you care about.  I don’t have to care period.

Faking it is a job requirement.


Remember that old superstition about how having your picture taken would steal part of your soul?  I guess I can see that given the way that cameras used to capture light.  But that superstition has died away with the proliferation of digital photography, hasn’t it?  I mean, camera phones and digital cameras don’t capture light in the same way as cameras that use film.  We have more of our souls left than our ancestors did at our age.

Disclaimer: I don’t know much about photography or souls… and these thoughts came to me in the shower this morning after only 3 1/2 hours sleep last night.