Monday, January 30, 2006

Pregnant Pause

God I hate Mondays. I'm not much in the mood to blog today. Then again, I don't feel much like working either, so I've chosen to write. I say that as my way of apologizing for a post that promises to be even more boring than usual.

On Friday evening, I met with a candidate for our soon to be vacant HR Assistant position. As the department manager, I always feel the need to create a good impression on the people that come in for interviews. In short, that means I need to act professional, courteous, personable, and a bunch of other things that I'm not. With that in mind, when she arrived I straightened my tie, grabbed a business card, and proceeded to the interview room.

We sat down and as we were getting the small talk out of the way, I absent mindedly began to toy with a heavy metal disc that filled the hole in the center of the table. At some point, I picked it up and began to turn it over in my palm. Just after I asked her the first "real" question of the interview, I lost control of the disc. It dropped in my lap, scoring a direct and painful hit on a certain rather sensitive area.

Needless to say, I couldn't do any of the things I'd normally do in that situation, including (but not be limited to) cursing, vomiting, crying, falling down on my knees, and curling into a ball on the floor and clutching the area until the waves of nausea passed. Instead, I was forced to simply nod and pretend that I was paying attention to her answers.

Fortunately, everyone else who met her seemed to like her, so I wound up extending a job offer despite the fact that I can't remember a thing she said.

After that debacle, I wound up going out for drinks with a friend of mine. We hadn't seen each other for a few months and we were having fun catching up on old times. At one point there was a brief lull in the conversation, which she chose to fill by asking if I would consider fathering a child with her. Now prior to that very moment, I'd thought that spit-takes only happened in movies and that people's eyes popping out of their sockets was reserved for cartoons. Needless to say, I was proven wrong on both counts.

The oddest part about the conversation is that it was almost exactly the same as one that I'd had with another friend just a few weeks ago. I couldn't help but to wonder what was going on. It clearly wasn't my looks, (as you can see from looking at my pictures), nor was it my charm or intelligence. In fact, I appear to be sadly lacking in many areas. After further discussion it was revealed that the appeal revolves around my status as a single, unattached guy in their approximate age range.

Oh, and that I'm a "nice guy."

It's not that either one wants to have a relationship with me - a point they both went far, far out of their way to make undeniably and painfully clear to me.

Both expressed a preference to go the "natural" route as opposed to the "clinical" one. However, as much as it appears that these offers represent my last, best chance at having sex in this lifetime (It's not like women are lining up or anything...), I just don't have it in me to do it. Fear of catching a disease aside, I'm not all that into having sex with someone that I don't truly have feelings for. More importantly, I simply can't imagine being the father of a child and being with that child every day.

At this point in my life, I've come to grips with the fact that I'm not likely to have children of my own. That said, if there ever comes a time when I do become a father, it'll be because the person I'm with and I have chosen to do so out of love, and not because someone I know has decided that she wants to have a baby without any contribution from me.

Um...other than that original donation, of course.

Friday, January 27, 2006

The Week in Pictures XXXII

A while back I met a woman named Kate. I never imagined that my experimental pick-up line ("If my nose were full of hundreds, I'd blow it all on you") would work on a woman like her, but for some reason it had and we began seeing each other.

Kate had a number of wonderful qualities. She was funny, attractive, intelligent...in fact, the only thing that wasn't nearly perfect about her was her questionable taste in men.

Now prior to meeting Kate, I had gone out a few times with a woman named Edith. Edith shared many of Kate's wonderful qualities and the same distressing drawback when it came to men. Edith and I still dated on occasion, but our conflicting schedules meant that we only saw each other once every few weeks.

Needless to say, it was difficult to decide which woman I preferred.

Anyway, on this particular night Kate and I were out at dinner at a midtown restaurant named Tao. She was busy looking beautiful and taking my breath away with alarming regularity, and I was wondering what the hell she was doing with a guy like me.

Just after we ordered our food, her phone rang. She asked if I minded if she took the call and being the polite guy that I am, I didn't object. She spoke for a few minutes and then hung up.

"Would you mind if we met a few friends of mine for drinks after dinner? I've mentioned you to a few of them and they'd like to meet you."

It sounded like fun, and it meant that I'd get to spend more time with her, so I agreed. As we finished dinner and prepared to leave, I even found myself a little nervous and hopeful that I'd pass the "friends" test.

We walked from Tao over to Sutton Place- a crowded bar on Second Avenue. When we entered, I went straight to the bar to get our drinks (a dirty martini for me and a cosmopolitan for her) while she went off in search of her friend. Thirty minutes and twenty dollars later I had acquired the drinks and was carefully navigating my way across the crowded room as I simultaneously searched for my missing date and tried not to spill more than half of the drinks on my suit. I was about to give up hope and settle down to drink both concoctions when I saw her waving frantically from across the room.

I made my way over and handed her the drink, then smiled amiably as she introduced me to her friends, one of whom turned out to be the aforementioned Edith. Our eyes locked for a moment, and I knew I was screwed.

I downed my drink in one gulp and headed back to the bar knowing that there was no way that I'd be able to have my Kate and Edith, too.

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Now on to the Week in Pictures:


As part of his punishment for his role in causing the downfall of Enron, disgraced former CEO Jeffrey Skilling is being forced to stand on a Houston street corner wearing bottomless trousers.


An army of snowmen stormed Moscow this afternoon, advancing as far as Red Square before being driven out by soldiers wielding portable heaters.


In Montreal, a PETA demonstration came to a sudden end when the woman in the background disrobed in solidarity.


Meanwhile, in Barcelona, crowds quickly gathered at the site of another protest offering one coat for every seven PETA members they were allowed to kill.


Pharmaceutical giant Sanofi Aventis was forced to recall the popular fertility drug Clomind after it caused overstimulation of the ovaries in some women.


The International Hot Air Balloon week Balloon Festival in Chateau d'Oex in the Swiss Alps was postponed when several of the balloons suffered from performance anxiety and were unable to inflate.


And here's a life size replica of my penis. Uh, sorry. You really didn't need to know that.

Um...here's our video of the week. It's a bit old, but it's one of my favorite songs (and one of the ones that I once wrote about playing every night.)



Family members going through the personal effects of the recently deceased Jolly Green Giant were shocked to discover that he lead a surprisingly active sex life.


Dogs in China are flocking to the recently opened "Hump a Leg" sex club in Beijing.


The E! network (future home of The Idle Receptionist) announced that Gumby's son and daughter will appear as participants in the upcoming second season of Filthy Rich Cattle Drive.


And finally, friends of the Nicole Richie staged an intervention this week after becoming concerned that her weight loss regimen had spiraled out of control.

Monday, January 23, 2006

Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me

The weekend went as expected. Now I'm back at work sore in all the right places and hurting everywhere else. Here's a rundown of my morning thus far:

6:30 a.m. - Alarm goes off for the fourth time. Throw alarm clock across room.

6:31 a.m. - Cord remains plugged into socket and lays neatly across my throat - choking me. Oddly enough, it's enough to wake me up.

Note to self: Strangulation Alarm Clocks - possible big seller (additional applications in the autoerotic asphyxiation market?!?)

6:32 a.m. - Lay completely still until waves of nausea subside.

7:30 a.m. - Finally in decent enough shape to emerge from under the covers.

7:31 a.m. - Step out of bed. Discover gravity still works. Crawl to bathroom.

7:45 a.m. - Recall that I once read that hangovers are a sign of dehydration.
Problem: Stomach not likely to hold down liquids.
Possible solution: Stay in the shower until I soak up enough water to move at more than a sluggish pace. I should be fine if I stay here until Thursday.

8:30 a.m. - Ready to leave home. Down a few aspirin and handful of tic tacs. Also a piece of gum. Can't be too careful.

8:32 a.m. - Walk to train through a driving rainstorm. Keep head tilted up and mouth open in a pathetic effort to ingest more fluids.

9:00 a.m. - The........ subway........ride........is........going........to........kill........me. People are actually edging away from me and towards the homeless guy at the other end of the car.

9:10 a.m. - Subway stops in tunnel. Pass time thinking that they really should have a monorail reserved for people in my condition. Quiet ride, dim lights, private insulated cabins. Make another note to self to suggest this to the MTA.

10:00 a.m. - Arrive at work. Receive compliments on my new look. Said "look" consists of glasses and a two-day stubble - the result of eyes refusing to open wide enough to admit contact lenses and hands not steady enough to shave.

10:30 a.m. - First meeting of the week. I hate Mondays with the white hot intensity of a thousand blazing suns.

10:45 a.m. - Politely asked to leave room. Apparently It's considered bad form in the business world to dry heave during a meeting.

10:50 a.m. - Slumped back at my desk surrounded by three cups of coffee and six bottles of water.

10:53 a.m. - Trying to decide if suicide is the way to go.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

The Week in Pictures XXXI

I'm exhausted. In fact, I was so tired last night that I didn't even make it to Mr. D's. I can only hope that the cute waitress was somehow able to get through the evening without me.

Anyway, the NFL playoffs continue this weekend. The best part is that for the first time since 1983, my Seattle Seahawks are just a win away from the Super Bowl. Well, that's not true. They're not really my Seahawks. They actually belong to billionaire Paul Allen. I just say they're mine to impress the ladies.

It doesn't work.

Anyway, because I have big plans for the weekend, today is likely to drag on longer than most Fridays do. As soon as its over, I going to jet out of here like a hummingbird on crack and meet some friends for a drink or two before heading home and cooking dinner for friend.

I just can't believe that HDD hasn't offered to fly out and serve as my personal chef for the evening.

The rest of the weekend will be spent with some old friends - and at least one pretty new one - and promises to be filled with zany hijinks and madcap hilarity. If I'm able to roll out of bed in time for work on Monday, it'll mean something has gone horribly wrong.

The best part of the weekend will involves my plan to kill the brain cells that form my personality - with an eye towards beginning development of a new, significantly less pathetic personality next week.

Wish me luck.
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A local man was rushed to the hospital last night after experiencing a burning sensation when he urinated.


A few months back, we told you that officials tracking Hurricane Rita were shocked when satellite images showed the states borders. Well it seems that cartologists using satellite imagery to create more accurate maps were in for another surprise when they learned that the city names appear as well.


An exclusive Week in Pictures investigation reveals that increased development has left a number of animals scrambling to survive. Many have been forced to assimilate into society and take on jobs, including this Panda who works as an accountant;


These polar bears employed as lumberjacks;


And this penguin who works as a bellhop.


Other animals have taken a different route to financial security as evidenced by the burgeoning Panda Porn industry.


And flourishing publications such as 'Squirrel Tail' magazine.

More on this story as it develops. Now it's time for our video of the week:




Celebrity chef Rocco DeSpirito announced that he's closing his recently opened restaurant after his revolutionary new seating arrangement failed to catch on.


In other restaurant news, diners are lining up for a table at the city's recently opened "World's Freshest Sushi" restaurant.


Aww....look. Little baby feet-us.

Ugh...sorry.


The world's shortest race ended with the Volkswagen car crossing the finish line just .1 second after the start of the race.


Tennis star Jelena Dokic will be out of action for a few weeks after misinterpreting her coach's instructions to keep her eye on the ball.



On a similar note, France's Fabian Bourzat suffered minor injuries when he was "accidentally" kneed in the groin by his ice dancing partner Nathalie Pechalat after the pair had an argument over which one of them is prettier.

And finally....

Tired of being clad in dreary black, Death appeared on Oprah for a makeover this week and emerged with a sporty new scarlet and white look. Speaking of scarlet...

mmmmmm...Scarlett Johansson.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

A Monumental Idea

Apparently, the illness that I've been fighting off somehow snuck up on me while I was otherwise occupied this weekend. Not that I'm complaining - especially in light of the fact that it already appears that this year will be roughly a million times better (I've yet to do the math) than last. We've had beautiful weather over the last few weeks which allowed me to get in a few late season hikes and even catch back up with some old friends and...um other stuff. (Notice how cleverly I imply that my life is much more exciting that it actually is)

Anyway, as I was saying. I didn't realize until I got down to DC this morning that I'm tired, feverish, achy, and on the verge of laryngitis (much to the relief of my DC office brethren). On the Metro ride over from the airport, I decided to take my mind off of the symptoms by thinking of ways the government can add revenue streams with an eye towards reducing the growing deficit.

As the train emerged from underground and rolled over the Potomac River, I caught sight of a few of our national monuments and inspiration struck. The solution to all of our financial woes rests in two simple words. Naming rights.

It's so obvious! For example, the White Castle House, Liberty Taco Bell, Washington Mutual Monument, Ford/Lincoln/Mercury Memorial, and Capital One Building leap to mind. On the television front we could also have the Nick at Night "Weezy" Jefferson Memorial or the Cartoon Network Yosemite Sam National Park.

Anyway, I'd write more but I'm off to pitch this idea before anyone steals it. Meanwhile, feel free to read the hastily thrown together story that I wrote on the flight down this morning.
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Living by the Book

What would Jesus do?

It was a question Rob asked himself at least fifty times a day.

When Bill's wife, a woman who every man on the block fantasized about - and who many women hated as a result of hearing their husband's scream out her name in the throes of orgasm - showed up at his door one evening wearing nothing but a trench coat and a smile, he asked himself "What Would Jesus Do?" and he closed the door (with her still on the other side).

Later that night when Bill came over in a jealous rage and punched him in the mouth because didn't believe Rob's impassioned denial of having slept with his wife, Rob asked himself "What would Jesus do?" And he turned the other cheek - allowing Bill a free shot and resulting in a broken jaw. Rob even found reason to be thankful for this since by the time the wire holding his jaw closed was removed, he'd lost 15 pounds.

The next morning when Bill showed up to apologize after learning the truth from his wife, Rob forgave him because that's what Jesus would have done.

So when the squirrel ran in front of his car, it took only a nanosecond for him to ask and answer the question. Conveniently ignoring the facts that Jesus didn't drive a car and that there was nothing in the Bible about saving squirrels, he swerved to avoid running over the creature, losing control of his car in the process. The vehicle skidded off the road and tumbled down a steep ravine. By the third flip, he was unconscious and he felt no pain a few moments later when the driver's side door slammed against a tree, killing him instantly.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in heaven with Jesus standing before him. He was overcome with a feeling of peace and love. He turned his face upward in rapture as Jesus opened his mouth to speak.

"I gotta tell you, I would never have killed myself over a squirrel." Jesus said.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

The Week in Pictures XXX

Last evening was spent at my usual Thursday night haunt, Mr. Dennehys - a place that's quickly become by favorite bar ever. As I stood at the bar drinking a Guiness, I decided to take what I now refer to as the "Trevor approach"- which consists casting numerous sheepish glances at a woman in the hopes that she'll talk to me - with the cute waitress that I noticed last week. Unfortunately, it only succeeded in her approaching my friend and me to see if we needed menus.

Shortly thereafter, I headed home and settled in with the copy of the PostSecret book I'd purchased earlier in the day. Now, I don't know about you, but I always have mixed emotions when I go to the PostSecret site. On the one hand, its comforting to know that everyone has secrets and interesting to see that some folks out there have been through some of the same experiences I have. On the other hand, some of the things people share are troubling at best and often quite depressing. As I flipped through the pages, it dawned on me that the range of emotions that I felt were probably intentional. After all, good art is supposed to provoke a reaction and change us in small but profound and lasting ways.

About halfway through the book, it began to feel too much like vouyerism. I recognize that the people who sent the postcards done so of their own volition, but it just didn't feel right to intrude on their privacy and longer. So I put the book down, picked up my binoculars, and spent the remainder of the evening looking into my neighbor's bedroom window in the hopes of catching her naked.
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Anyway, it's time for the Week in Pictures XXX. In honor of the whole "XXX" thing, I'd planned to post pictures of myself in various poses and states of undress. Unfortunately (or fortunately for you) my camera shut down when I tried to take the first picture and refused to work again until I signed an agreement to remain fully clothed at all times when engaged in picture taking.

As a result, you're left with nothing more than my usual pedestrian attempts at humor.


Hundreds of supporters at a Republican rally in Texas cheered wildly as President Bush correctly responded to the question "Where is your head?"


Later that day, President Bush was joined Louisiana Lt. Gov. Mitch Landrieu and New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin for the unveiling of his Presidential portrait.


Meanwhile, over at Capital Hill, the Senate passed a resolution forcing Diane Feinstein to keep her face covered at all times while they're in session.


After weeks of being battered by the press corps for the administration's handling of the war in Iraq, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld has taken to performing magic tricks at the podium in an attempt to distract reporters.

Alternate caption suggested by HDD:
During the briefing, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld tried to deflect reporters questions about Iraq by pretending to grope the breasts of an imaginary woman.


Scientists at the National Taiwan University have successfully bred three pigs which glow fluorescent green in the dark, marking a breakthrough for midnight snackers trying to locate items such as ham and bacon.


Organizers held the weigh in for this weekend's middleweight animal boxing title fight which pits the lightning quick tongue jabs of Kermit D'Frog.


Against the brilliant defensive style of Turtle Soup.


A group of black bears in China have opened the world's first People Zoo.


Over in Turkey, members of the country's elite "Snow Ninja" corps demonstrated their skills by sneaking up on a flock of ducks.


If you'll excuse me for a minute, I have to go kick Mr. Blackwell's ass for putting Shakira on his 2005 Worst Dressed list. Please feel free to watch the video of the week while I'm gone.




Okay, I'm back. Expect to see him release a revised list later today.


This afternoon's weather forecast calls for sudden and extremely localized downpours that are expected to completely soak 2-3 pedestrians.


I wish I knew how to quit you, Joan Rivers!


John Cleese was at Sotheby's this week to pick up a nose hair trimmer he purchased at an auction on the late Fred Flinstone's possessions.


Researchers at NASA were shocked when a photograph taken from an x-ray camera on the Hubble Telescope showed that earth's rotation is actually caused by a giant, sad clown walking around on the inside of the planet.


Germany's Kati Wilhelm had to flee for her life after leaving the biathlon course to steal a golden idol head from a hidden temple, then setting loose a giant boulder as she tried to escape the structure.


Organizers at the upcoming Winter Olympics in Turin are redesigning the ski jump after several participants were injured sliding straight down the original ramp.


The World Sumo Wresting Championships were delayed after one of the contestants got stuck in the bedpan he was using to relieve himself before the match.


And finally, we'd like to apologize to George Lucas and his daughter Amanda for incorrectly identifying this image as the year 2010 version of what Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky would have looked like had they stayed together.