A Haiku For Today

Hello non-existent followers!

I would like to submit the following haiku for your amusement.

dog hair floating
the children are screaming
dinner is ready

Thank you.

Dame Iron Fury

Random Wednesday Musings, Volume 2

I feel the swastika has a bad rap.  It’s actually a cool symbol, but no one can use it without being associated with Nazis.  The swastika was a symbol before Nazis borrowed it.  They didn’t make it up, but that’s what the majority of the world sees when they look at it. Sorry, swastika.

Girls have to go through way too much effort to be at a socially acceptable level of appearance.  I’m sure plenty of girls, excuse me-women-enjoy it, but overall it’s just too much.  Speaking of, high heels are pretty but walking in them all day is bad for you.  I know that because of the scientific study I have been working on.  When I wear them, my feet hurt.  There.  End of study.  That is why I stopped wearing them and have opted for combat boots.

Sometimes I wonder why I haven’t gotten a job writing professionally yet especially when a lame-o like Jose Canseco already has two books published.  And then I remember, “oh yeah, I probably need to finish something first.” 

I’m always unimpressed when people are surprised that I can say something intelligent or make an interesting observation.  Should I dumb everything down to meet their expectations?

Being creative everyday is hard.  It might not be so hard if I didn’t have anything else to do or anyone else relying on me. 

I was glancing through our employee handbook and I got upset at certain things.  “Pants, shorts and skirts worn below the waistline are inappropriate.”  Um…how many people these days still have pants at their waist?  I would like to see how funny it would look if everyone in the office pulled their pants up to their waistlines.  They would probably look like our Asian sales manager who never ceases to amaze me with his high riding pants.

Females dread having another female wear the same thing at the same time.  It’s a commonly known social faux pas, but I’m not sure why exactly.  Is it jealously over wanting to be original?  Or maybe it’s the fear that someone will look better in that same outfit? Uniforms for everyone would probably be easiest at social occasions.  Maybe we should start there and see how it works. 

I just had an idea and before I could maximize the screen for this document it was gone.  That’s just cruel and unusual punishment.

One of my favorite words in the English language, facepunch, is not actually a word.  That should be crime because I use it continuously throughout the day.  “Can I get a prescription of facepunch?”  “Can I get a medicinal facepunch IV drip?”  “Don’t make me have to facepunch you!”

Love,
Dame Iron Fury

Late Breaking News

This just in… My computer sucks.

That is all.

Thank you for your attention and your regularly scheduled program will resume after these messages.

Dame Iron Fury

It Seemed Like a Good Idea

I’m a bit tired today, so I’m going go slowly.  I’ve been toying with the idea of sleeping at night, but so far I don’t think I have the right timing on it.  I’ll keep working on it and let you know.  Which got me thinking about things that seemed like a good idea at the time, but didn’t turn out that way; similar to staying up just a little later to try to finish that movie…

How can cute shoes be a bad idea?

  1. Wearing these shoes.  Sure, they look cute, but are they good to wear for all day?  Negative.  Since I have to grip them using my toes with every step, it makes walking something I have to actually think about vividly.  Since I’m tired I could be using that extra real estate in my head for something more useful, like working. (Nah.)  Maybe if I walk around more my feet will swell up and I won’t have to work so hard to keep them on.
  2. Parking in the shade.  It’s going to be 85 degrees today, so a little warm.  I thought, I should park in the shade and save myself later in the day from an overheated car since my hubby hasn’t gotten it all put back together yet and I don’t have air conditioning.  OK, sure, that sounds like a really good idea, but coming back to the shoe problem…  It took me forever to walk across the parking lot wearing these dogs while thinking about how to hold them on my feet the whole time.  “Grip, grip, grip…”  (They are pretty dogs though.)

    This tea tastes, unfortuately, like those cherry cough drops I used to take when I was little.

  3. Having a cup of tea.  Whether it’s a calming cup of chamomile or a rousing cup of green, it’s sure nice to start the day with a tea.  Tea is a comforting bit of morning tradition for me, but when you end up bumping into that EX-friend who now gives you the evil eye for some reason that you don’t know, tea time is a little less of a treat.  Which brings us to our next one…
  4. Being friends with that girl at work.  Sure she seemed cute and nice and funny in an elfish sort of way; but was all the drama worth it?  And when I say drama, I mean drama with a capital D.  There was a new disaster every day from her roommate’s son finger-painting with her shampoo in the shower, to everyone at work flirting with her, or maybe the store was out of her favorite tea.  “We must call an emergency meeting to discuss how to get through this crisis!”  Now she just seems like a weirdo that clears her throat all the time, has big feet and ignores me like I’m invisible.  I still don’t know what I did to make her not want to be friends anymore; but somehow I’m alright with that now.
  5. Rocking too hard. I know!  How can that possibly be a bad thing?  Well, it is when your headphones are turned up too loud for extended periods of time or you have been to one too many rock concerts with horribly distorted speakers.  I think I have damaged my ears because they ring when there is a lack of ambient white noise.  And what’s worse than them ringing, is realizing I’m telling my kids that they will understand when they are older and they should just take my word for it.  I added 15 years to my virtual age by uttering those words.  Oh, my sacroiliac!  I think my gout just flared up!

    I kept making this face and it stuck! Listen to your parents!

I’m sure I could go on and on for days…but I better just smile and nod and get back to work.  

Peace out!

Dame Iron Fury

Random Wednesday Musings v. 1

*When other people don’t turn their cell phones to silent in the office, it bothers me.  It especially bothers me when they leave them at their desks and walk away.  But while I sit and listen to it ring, I think: why did that person choose that ringtone?  Was that the default one or did they choose it?  Was that the best one they could find?  Were they too lazy to search for another?  Maybe they actually paid money for it.  Maybe they just changed the ringtone, and they forgot that it was theirs and are also wondering whose cell phone is ringing.  And when the tone is song that plays very loudly, like “Oh, Mickey, you’re so fine, you’re so fine…” or it’s the chipmunks singing Christmas songs, I have to see who it is.  Hello headphones.

*Getting up early and going to work when the rest of my family gets to stay home on vacation is just plain wrong.  There I said it.  I’m not as mature as I claim to be. 

Then I took our M1 adjustment, combined it with our 108b adjustment...

*I don’t know what you have heard, but working on taxes is boring.  Pretending to be interested in them is a lot of work; as is pretending to be interested in what tax people are saying. 

*Crisp rice in granola is a waste of space.  When I buy expensive granola, I don’t want filler. 

*Sometimes I wonder why I work so hard to stay sane.  I mean living in padded rooms, coloring all day, watching TV, and taking drugs are what some people do anyway.  Well, maybe the padded rooms aren’t so much a popular choice.  But, seriously, doesn’t it seem like a simple life?  Maybe I’m missing an important reason of why being crazy is bad.

*My husband said yesterday he met a guy that reminded him of Jack Black, was named

Hello. Just call me Octavius

Octavius, and quoted the movie Sling Blade.  Was anyone else’s interest piqued? 

Anywho, back to the taxes,

Dame Iron Fury

Speak Up, Man!

I'm going to keep smiling and pretend I heard you.

I’m sitting at my desk, minding my own business, when a co-worker pops into my office.  I know that he’s a casual acquaintance (ie: baby friend) and that it will just be a funny conversation (or creepy) so I don’t prep myself to actually portray intelligence.  The only problem is, when he opens his mouth, I see his lips moving but I can’t hear anything coming out of his mouth.  Since the confused look on my face doesn’t seem to tip him off that I didn’t understand, I utter my natural response, “what?”  To which he responds in the same manner.  I don’t want to ask again so I just smile and nod, he returns the smile and leaves.  Sigh.

This causes me to pose a few questions to myself: have I been to one too many rock concerts or was he just talking too softly?  Should I have come right out and said that I couldn’t hear him?  Perhaps he was going to say something creepy again, so maybe I should just thank my lucky stars that I didn’t hear him.     

The moment has passed anyway and whatever he was talking about probably doesn’t matter anymore.  Or what if it does?  Maybe he was telling me that the Grey Aliens have

Take me to your probing!

landed on the front lawn and they are asking everyone to line up for their turn to be probed.  Perhaps he came by to remind me that my husband’s belt and shoes don’t match.  Or maybe, just maybe he came by to tell me that my cube wall is crooked, yet again. 

In my logical Spock-like manner, I have decided that if it was actually important, he would have spoken more loudly. 

Logic dictates that you're a creeper.

Therefore, logic dictates that he was saying something stupid that doesn’t matter (I need to speak frankly since Spock is incapable of lying.)  If there are Grey Aliens outside or even green, pink, or vermillion, they will just need to wait until I’m done posting this blog. 

Live long and prosper,

Dame Iron Fury

Warning: Details to Follow

Details are very important but there are times when details make us shutter.  These are the times when details attack, just like the animals in those shows.  You’re innocently walking along and out of nowhere you are mauled by a bear, or perhaps a woman you causally know from work explaining how and why she

Tampax or Playtex Pearl?

switched tampon brands.  Each situation is equally grizzly and horrific.

In casual practice, details are not horrible, but when they are misused it is cause for panic and screaming.  They are little pieces that make up the whole, like an atom is made up of protons, electrons, neutrons and probably some other stuff we haven’t discovered yet.  Details are the building blocks of anything.  They are crucial, I mean, how else am I going to find out how you ended up putting on your tights while driving to work?

Ralph's all about the details

I’m a tad bit detail oriented, which is a good and bad thing.  Saying I’m “detail oriented” sounds almost clinical, like I’m applying for a job: “Applicants must be detail oriented, range between 5’9” and 5’10”, covered in purple spots and be named Ralph Wiggum.”  In truth, being a slave to the facts such as I am, can cause problems when talking to regular folk.

Are you still able to breastfeed?

It used to be, when someone asked me how I was, I literally opened the flood gates and told them about how I’m a little down because I had run out of tea due to lack of funds because I spent too much on my credit card when my kids were little because I stayed home with them when they were little because I wanted to breastfeed them.  This type of conversation is usually followed by a blank stare and me feeling uncomfortable for a few  moments before the other  person finds a convenient way to excuse themselves.  Naturally, over time I began to give out less and less information, until I have finally arrived at “fine” as a stock response.

There is such a fine line between too much information and just the right amount.  Knowing when to stop talking is like an artist that knows when to stop painting “one more stroke will be too much.”  Maybe, I just haven’t spoken to enough people and it’s a trial by error type of scenario.  Lucky for everyone out there, you are all my guinea pigs and eventually I will get just the right amount of information when I speak to any of you.  Thank you for participating in my study; there is a box of stickers by the door and you can take one as you leave. You’ve got your choice of Spongebob Squarepants or a kitten.

I should have known! You use Always with wings!

Love,

Dame Iron Fury