Firewater Fireworks
In general, the lower the IQ the greater the thrill from fireworks and twinkly noisy thingies.
Word from the western front arrived early. It was going to be a “heat advisory” kind of a day. We hunkered in our bunkers and prepared for the worst. I put on a pair of clean tighty whities. Because:
To brine thine own self be true.
–Tom B. Taker
I was already looking forward to the salt water sores in my private areas. You know what they say. “Fight ’em over there or in your underwear.” Like always I choose the latter.
Day 1
Sunday night the neighbor set up a table saw in his front yard. He ran that sucker until 11:36 pm. On a work night. I kid you not. I believe this is the exact storyline of the movie Saw.
Day 2
Even more table saw. It was all squee … squee … squee … when the hours were wee.
What every happened to politeness? Basic manners? Please and thank you? All as dead as my peace of mind and peace and quiet.
Two nights of noise in a row. The urge to fling poo was becoming unbearable. Somehow, though, I was able to hold on.
But, little did I know it at the time, those two nights were merely flanking feints. The best was still yet to come.
Boom Shack-A-Lak!
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Quiet Extraordinary
I’m Starfleet and Starfleet doesn’t lie!
COMPUTER: Working. Private Tom B. Taker. Serial number ABY-7734-Neg. Verified.
So what follows is the truth.
COMPUTER: Subject relaying accurate account. No physiological changes.
Gee, thanks, computer! I appreciate the endorsement!
COMPUTER: Subject in error. No endorsement was implied. Non sequitur. Error. Error. Error.
Dammit, man! I’m a failure, not a negativist! Or is that the other way around?
Anyway, most folks don’t know about Starfleet’s Processed Air Training (PAT). It’s a critical part of Starfleet Academy that must be successfully completed in order to graduate. It’s just like that scene in An Officer And A Gentleman where candidate Sid Worley can’t count cards in the decompression chamber. Yes, he’s got the moves like Jagger! But that doesn’t make him officer material.
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Beat The Heat: Abyss Tips
Looks like I picked a bad time to move to a house without air conditioning. My delicate skin is taking a beating. So, without further ado, I give you my new series entitled Abyss Beat The Heat Tips.
With God as my witness I swear to you I will come up with a tip a day as long as this planet feels uncomfortable.
Your feedback is important so let me know if you find any of these tips helpful. That would be hot.
Frying Off The Handle
Guru enjoys a HAWT cup of coffee fresh from the microwave. (Actor portrayal.) Click for original.
As a man of science, you think I’d be comfortable with a microwave, a device handy for exciting my molecules.
Think again.
I placed my mug of cold coffee in the microwave and closed the door. Using my trusty slide rule I calculated the optimum time. As the seconds ticked down I watched through the meshy window just in case things came to a boil.
Thankfully they did not.
The microwave chirped a friendly beep beep beep so I opened the door and took out the mug. I examined the dark fluid closely.
All seemed well. I stroked my chin thoughtfully. “Hmm,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a flat calm.”
I put the mug on the counter, ensconced the sugar bowl in my loving arms and cued up a teaspoon of sweet heavenly goodness.
As the sugar cascaded into the mug it exploded I was knocked on my ass by a shock wave of exactly 1.21 gigawatts. Covered in burning liquid, I staggered to my feet. Only a crater remained where my mug had been moments before.
I realized I was crying. “Hot water burn baby!!!” I yelled.
Experts later determined the blast was equivalent t .42% of the nuclear device set off my North Korea just last week. So I’m in good company.
Oh Jumpin’ Java – Boom and Doom
How do you know when you've reached your limit? Oh well, I'll call this batch Mouse Blend. Ha ha.
This is a follow-up to yesterday’s product review about a free sample of Starbucks Blonde coffee that I recently received.
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The Office Temp
This is just a quick little serendipitous post because I’m in the mood. I’d like to relate a conversation with the boss that happened yesterday.
Just a bit of background info before I share it, though. As I’ve written several times now, the place I work doesn’t care much about employees. They don’t like expending actual pennies on wasteful things like comfort. So they don’t like to run the heater in winter nor the A/C in summer.
The official policy in winter is that yes, you can run the heat, but if you run it enough to take off your coat, then it is too warm. I’m not shitting you. This is the official policy. Management wants employees to wear their coats all day – every day – during the cold months. (Not a fun or comfy way to work, by the way.)
It’s no big surprise that the hot months are the exact opposite. The boss charges top dollar for everything he makes, but in every other thing he pinches pennies so hard I’m surprised they still retain shape. I call this golden nugget economics.
Unofficially we’re allowed to turn on the A/C just enough to the point where sweat stops dripping in our eyes. A sticky note on the thermostat states: “No lower than 78!”
We knew the boss would be stopping by yesterday, so we had the A/C up at the authorized level. In other words, it was hotter than hell.
The boss stopped by, said hello, and remarked: “It sure feels nice and cool in here.”
That comment was, of course, completely and utterly ignored by us chickens.
Then, again, since it didn’t get the desired response the first time it was trotted out: “It sure feels nice and cool in here!”
Again, no response. It was almost pathetic to watch. Ha ha ha!
The boss was left with no recourse. He had to up his game to the next level. It was time for a direct query. “Is the A/C on?” he asked impatiently.
Oh sweet Jesus I wish I was making this shit up! But I swear to you, this is the exact conversation with absolutely no embellishment. You’re just going to have to trust me on this.
This is where I finally got a chance to step in and speak up. “Yes, the A/C is on. Yesterday, for example, when I got to work, it was literally 81 degrees in my office at 8am. We have no choice. Besides, we need to stop the computers from melting. There’s going to be liquid metal leaking out of these boxes if we don’t run the A/C.”
This confused my boss’ little brain. So I explained further.
“See, the innards in the computers will melt and leak out onto the floor where they will make little shiny pools of metal. Then shiny Terminators will rise up out of those pools. And trust me, you don’t want them running around messing with productivity. They can be quite annoying.”
My point had been made in my own inimitable manner. Woot!
Shouts from the Abyss 
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