Healthcare, Bend over and say "AHHHH"!

Who knows what was going through my head this day. Suffice it to say something about the debate in the Supreme Court over the healthcare bill. Here's an idea, "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for yourself."

Kardashian's Butt Crashed My Computer

Okay, I promise this is the last of my surreptitious attempts to lure clicks to my blog by using titles and labels that are on search engine's top most searched list. Butt I can't help butt make one more comment. I had to do a search to figure out, what the hell did this Kim Kardashian do prior to becoming a "reality" celebrity. The low down...she FUCKED her way to the front page. Yea. The daughter of an attorney in LA. She married some rapper, made a sex video, it got released to world, she sued and won $5 million. Well there ya go. I shared this with my wife, yea she's not willing to go there with me. So I guess I'm stuck in the realm of the unknown.

Kim Kardashian! Hey! Stop Wasting Other People's Time

Kim Kardashian Attacked by Flour Bomb...really this is the top Google search. It is still beyond me. Then the rest of the trends: Chipper Jones, Matt Forte, Josh Johnson, Marquette, Whitney Houston, Al Sharpton, Hunger Games, NCAA then number 11 Romney Etcha Sketch, then the balance of the top are more Hollywood and Sports. Mindlessness is fine, I understand the need, but even then it is amazing out of the whole population that could be searching for info on the internet, that obviously the vast majority have little to no concern over government, politics, economy, self improvement, expansion of knowledge, learning. I went through a phase right out of college where if I was going to allocate any time to reading it was going to be something that would expand my knowledge. I just couldn't embrace the idea of reading for pure pleasure. It was about time and use of time. I guess that I why I'm perceived as such an uptight, robotic individual. I am a bit curious how many flies I catch by incorporating the top trend words in my label and title (I'm so evil...Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha!!!)

My Teen Was Still Born

I was born the last month of the last year of what is considered to be the baby boom birth years 1945-1963, so everyone I knew was older than me. Looking at it from this perspective it makes perfect sense that I identify more with older people, especially those about 10 years older than I do with those 10 years younger. What this created was a situation, when I was a teen everything was about those boomers, and their successes in business and their newly found power of consumption, that shaped me. I had a subscriptions to Business Week and the WSJ, when I should of had a subscription to Playboy and Mad. When I should of been gallivanting the globe on a dollar a day, I was consumed with reading about real estate and marketing, trying to figure how I was going to make my first million.

I was so devastated when I turned 29 because I wasn't a millionaire it easily ranks as my worst birthday. Now I'm stuck. Approaching middle age. Those older than me are becoming irrelevant, as social movers and trend setters that really matter. Yes I know they are setting their on trends as they redefine what it means to be retired, but I doubt they are going to be the driving force behind the adoption of a comic strip, like they were so instrumental; (timing was everything here), for strips like Bloom County, Calvin and Hobbes, Doonesbury, and even Farside. I don't understand the younger set, I've never been younger. My whole life has been like chasing a shadow, or as I've said many times before: I've been paddling like hell to catch the wave the boomers have been surfing their whole life, and I won't reach it until it smashes on the shore.

Texting With Aliens

Oh shout out to my first follower...Hello Jimbo!!!!

I've had a slight fascination with large black areas lately. This just evolved out of that and don't know what it means. Guess you could say it plays to the fear of online relationships, you really never know what is on the other end.

Santa, Easter Bunny, Turkey and Leprechauns Holiday Figures Get Funky

Just some stupid twist on traditional holiday figures.

Pi Day. I love Pie. Where Has the Time Gone?

I can't believe I completely almost overlooked that it was Pi-Day...March 14th, 3-14, 3.14. How awesome is that!!! I love pie. I've always wanted pie instead of cake for birthdays. Pies are moist and succulent where cake is dry and blah (that is why you need milk). No milk needed for pie...coffee or nothing will do. Then there are all the pie innuindoes...MMMM!...PIE. Happy Pi Day!

On another note...for most people their day can't go fast enough. Not me. Since TIME is one of the few assets I have, when it goes by unused, wasted, or too fast it is like taking money and flushing it. Yesterday, and the last few days, I don't know where the time has gone. (yea I see the obvious joke with the time change everyone lost an hour), but it seems lately before I know it it is mid-afternoon. Please just slow down. A far as being a sloppy writer...It is just a condition. As hard as I try, it seems inevitable that I leave a word out. I don't know how it happens. I know what I want to write, I hear it in my head, but for some reason the word never makes it out of my pen. It is something I've recognized for years. Once, really early in my career, right out of college, I even put down on my annual review, Things I can improve on: Spelling is what I put. Looking back as if my boss could really give a crap. I'm sure the HR department was looking for something work better in a TEAM...fuck them, I can't carry the whole damn company...it is every man for himself. Give me my raise bitch!

Jon Hamm Bashes on Idiots, Thank you. Really.

Jon Hamm says, “Whether it’s Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian or whoever, stupidity is certainly celebrated,” the Mad Men star told the magazine (Elite UK), adding, “Being a f—ing idiot is a valuable commodity in this culture because you’re rewarded significantly….It’s celebrated. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

Hooray, for someone putting it out there. It has not yet stopped amazing me the endless stream of things that can garner their own show. Every time I see one I just shake my head and a remark to my family...if they can do it, surely we can be a reality TV show...really! All we need to do is film one another, edit in some over dramatized narration, and wham-o, we have a show. Hell, my life is such a mess right now, I can't imagine in not being interesting to someone else who wants to waller in my misery to lift themselves up.

HAIL to the Pencil. The Empathetic Writing Tool

Okay, so I dedicated, well maybe dedicated is too formal a description, more like a study...yea, a study in the symmetry of the humble pencil. That mostly forgotten school day companion. The old Number 2 to your Number 1. The mandatory writing implement when doing math, because he was full of forgiveness. The pencil, unlike the pen, is full of compassion, he knows you make mistakes, and hence brings his own eraser, but yet would not begrudge you for using a stand-by eraser. Who was there for every standardized test...the Pencil. Who wouldn't run dry...the pencil. He could be sharpened at the front of the classroom with a few quick cranks on the sharpener. The ultimate sacrifice , giving you his all. But now he, The PENCIL PAL, mostly resides in the bottom of the junk drawer, or maybe he can be found in the tool box, but never does he get to attend those business meetings, those fancy dinners, those check writing and contract signing events. I think we should declare a PENCIL day (date to be announced later) HAIL TO THE PENCIL.

Mother Farts To Make Point. Idea Stinks.

I've got boys, for kids that is, and...well boys will be boys...not that I condone everything, and not that I don't school, chastise and otherwise correct their social miscues, I do...but they unfortunately have a certain comfort level, and a majority rule mentality when it comes to farting in front of their mother. And when it occurs, their mother will verbally brow beat them regarding her disgust with their cavalier attitude, to which the response is normally laughter on their part. They just think it is funny. The threat was thrown out there the other day by me, to them, "what if your mother would just start ripping farts in front of your friends, guys and girls"...from that threat the whole idea of how funny it would be, then it would be posted by their friends on Facebook, and Twitter, and picked

up by the local media, "Mother's Fart For Discipline..Stinks", eventually, it would go viral, and finally would wind her up on the Today Show being interviewed by Ann Curry, in a very typical manner of fake concern and desire to stir the emotions.

Pressure Creates Change

Without a doubt I feel a constant burden. Working at home creates no separation of time, space, or pressure. It is always here, because I'm always here. (E-gad imagine living at your office). Pressure does create change, i.e. the old coal to diamond analogy, but do I really want to be hardened? The more pressure I'm under to perform or get results, especially if it comes at the expense of my time, or knowledge, the less forgiving I become. I've only got finite resources, and I'm pretty good about rationing them to last. Lately I've made some changes to the BoonDawgoggle Blog. If you've been secretly watching you'll notice, but my impression is there is no one watching. I could dance naked here and not worry (some would say I wouldn't worry anyhow). You can see from the sketch pad I've illustrated the office cohorts piling on, and the possible change in logo for the blog.

Don't Count My Drinks, I'm A Big Boy!

I believe it is an old saying or good etiquette at least, "don't count how many drinks another man has had"...it ain't polite. If that counter is a kid, it has really crossed the line. It was all I could do to hold my tongue the other day when I went to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine at 5pm, and my oldest son's friend, a neighbor girl, made the comment of sort, "I guess it's 5pm somewhere." As if I was drinking too early (I pointed out it was 5pm here, in my FUCKING kitchen!!!)

Then she proceeded to ask if I'd made it home okay the other night, when evidently she saw me at the local watering hole on Valentines, with my wife and adult friends. Really, that is some balls. I just smiled and commented, "don't worry about me I'm a big boy." I was way nicer than I should of been.