Frequent Fungus Program

I'm not a big fan of air travel. I used to fly a lot for my job several years back, but I prefer to drive when possible. (I mean, why let a jet airplane take little baby bites out of the ozone layer when I can burn off the entire atmosphere with my SUV, right? ) Recently, I discovered a new reason why I don't fly: Due to necessary security protocols (thanks once again to our ass-wipe jihad friends), everyone has to remove their footwear at the security checkpoint. Unlike a whiney liberal, I realize air travel is a PRIVILEGE not a RIGHT and I don't feel 'violated' or 'humiliated' just because the TSA want's to x-ray my shoes in an effort to keep my plane from being hijacked. Of course, the unfortunate side-effect of the footwear removal is that the airport now shares the same dank and musty funk as my high school locker room. A walk to the terminal was already a nose odyssey of fried foods, discount perfume, and windex. Those old familiar odors are now accentuated by ten thousand sweaty feet. I haven't smelled anything like that since I was a kid, when I used to hide from my brother in the clothes hamper. When they catch terrorists, they should force them to clean the airport floors with their tongues before shooting them. I think that's only fair. Until then, I guess it's time I invest in athlete's foot products and room deodorizer stocks.

SKEETERS

My stuck-up sister Kathy gets all upset when she hears guys talking about going to HOOTERS "Family" restaurant. She's real sensitive like that. I guess it may be because she's a little on the 'small' side upstairs if you know what I mean. I tried to tell her that if she kept a positive attitude she could someday open her own "Family" restaurant. She just glared at me though when I suggested that she could call it SKEETERS. No matter how hard I try it seems like some people are just too proud to accept my help.

Flamin' Junkers

I think some people are a little too 'flame-happy' with their vehicles. Just the other day I saw a 15 year old minivan with those flame-stickers on the front and sides of it. Fifteen years old!...Minivan!...American made!...like we're supposed to believe that this vehicle is traveling so freakin' fast that the friction of the air is causing the front of his lame-ass vehicle to ignite! Is that what this driver is asking us to believe? He was beggin' for me to run him off the road and just beat the crap out of him. Fortunately I'm not a man that's prone to violent rages so I just followed him home and went back later and poisoned his cat (or maybe it was just a raccoon in his yard, I don't know, it was dark). OK sometimes the Redneck part of me wins out over the Educated part.

UPDATE: People, stop chewing on me for this. It was a joke! No more emails!

Advice for Female Rednecks

Ladies, if you find it necessary to have a tattoo etched onto your ‘lower back’ please be considerate of others when choosing your design. Most chicks choose a fancy design with swirly lines that doesn’t actually mean anything or even better, the Chinese characters that 99.98% of Americans can’t understand and probably translates into Mu Shu Pork anyway. For those times when you get falling down drunk and don’t want to be left out of the tattoo craze, please consider one of the three following ‘useful’ tattoo options. First you could have an image of a beautiful woman (tasteful nudity optional) carved there. This would definitely draw attention to where you evidently want it and men can stare at a good piece of ...uh…. art all day long. Secondly, you could choose an instructional tattoo. You could even use this opportunity to let your man know exactly how to please you. It could say ‘Enter Here’ with an arrow pointing down if you like, or even a ‘Please use Other Door’ if you prefer. You could even say ‘Exit Only!’. You are always saying how guys never read instructions, well this would insure that your instructions would be read and followed to the letter. If you don’t choose to be stylish or practical, please consider the funny option. You could go with something similar to a bumper sticker like ‘My other Butt is Smaller’ (or ‘Larger’ depending on which ethnic group you’re trying to associate with), ‘Do these Buttocks make my Jeans Look Bigger?’ or ‘If you can read this, Thank a Bartender’. Remember, you can’t see it anyway so if you’re going to draw my attention to you, make it worth my while. Plan your new tattoo now – think before you drink.

How is everything?

I don't eat out a lot. Mainly because we have mostly chain restaurants and they generally serve the same boil-a-bag crap I can cook at home. Of course, at home I don't have to tip someone 15% to carry the plate from the kitchen to my table. (I assume some specialist in the kitchen actually removes it from the bag and puts it on the plate - I can do that at home too.). The other thing I am paying for is the delightful little shower I get when my teenage waitress decides to dump a pitcher of ice into my glass - which is already full of water. It's bad when the service sucks, but I am equally annoyed when asked "How is everything?" every 45 seconds. WTF is going on here? Is my entree a Merck field test for a new prescription drug? Is my "waitress" really a lab tech waiting to see if I sprout antlers or begin to levitate? WHAT IS IT YOU WANT!?!? You have to be "friendly and service oriented" because you need the tip money for another tattoo. OK, I GET IT! Listen: I REALLY HATE being interrupted in the middle of a conversation with my wife right when we're about to enjoy the dung-fried onion blossom THAT YOU JUST PUT ON THE TABLE 13 SECONDS AGO. How the hell would I know "how it is" when I haven't even had a chance to to taste it yet! Why do you care anyway? YOU didn't cook the damn thing! But here's the kicker - after being up my butt all night you disappear like a fart in the wind when I'm ready to pay the bill. "Excuse me, could you get our waitress? " "I'm sorry sir, she was just struck by a stray particle of anti-matter and vaporized at the quantum level". If I ever heard that one, I might be more forgiving. Instead it's usually something like "I'll see if I can track down your waitress". Huh? "Track her down?" Why?!?!? Do you intend to shoot her with a tranquilizer dart and tag her? When I finally do get the check, there's always the "Is there anything else I can get you?" Yes, perhaps a keg of pepto. I feel the "onion blossom" is about to be a-bloomin!

Technical Damagement

It's bad enough that my brain-damaged PC has to pause every three seconds to check it's own pulse. But now my management is doing it. Oh wait, it's because they're robots undoubtedly controlled by the same "superior technology" that powers my new craptop and for that reason, they are unable to think and pump their reptilian blood simultaneously. I'll probably be outsourced soon because I'm unwilling to undergo the the lobotomy of a management career path. Don't get me wrong, there are lots of good managers, just none that know anything technical. For starters, that kind of management requires an attention span beyond that of a spider monkey and the ability to identify shapes other than circles. It seems to me that someone in technical management should probably know at least if not more about the work subject than the people they are managing, right?!?!?. But this is not the case, at least not in I.T. Generally, I.T. managers know about things like "perception" , "team building", and the "big picture" (mainly from a stack of 'I'll Manage Somehow ' flash cards). If Homer Simpson, Michael Scott, and a Personal PlayStation were caught in one of those Star Trek transporter accidents, the result would be an I.T. manager. What makes this all even more fun is the endless barrage of Sarbanes-Oxley paperwork that I'm sure is responsible for far more deforestation than all the California wildfires. I spend more time documenting test plans for how I'm going to take a whiz than I do writing actual code. Of course the fact that my craptop has to reboot every time I move the mouse doesn't help my productivity either. Nor does all the coffee I drink. That's a lot of test plans.
Hey, here's an idea: Help me retire from the corporate world - BUY AN EDNECK SHIRT!!!

Happy Belated 4th

Yes, I realize it's the 7th. Been too busy beer-be-cuing with the other ednecks this past week to blog. It's called LIFE, you should try it.

So what's my rant for our nation's birthday? That we have nothing in common with the guys who formed our nation. No, most of them were God-fearing farmers turned soldiers who were brave enough to sacrifice their simple lives to defend their communities ( and the business interests of their wealthier neighbors, of course), and still be tolerant enough to accept a constitution that protects the rights of assholes like Rosie O'Donnell, Alec Baldwin, Susan Sarandon, Michael Moore and the Dixie Chicks. What about the rest of us (not me or other ednecks, but Americans in general)? We're a bunch of couch potatoes who are too concerned about NASCAR, Paris Hilton, and "global warming" to get off our fat asses and care about the idea of 'America'. James Madison, Thomas Jefferson, et. al., were concerned enough about guaranteeing individual rights that our system has actually fostered individuals and groups who have a blatant disregard for anything nationalistic -- that is "American". I'm glad to see people practicing their freedom of speech. Too bad their blatant ignorance of history has hindered their appreciation of our nation. Yes we had slavery (under a Democrat controlled South) and we ended it (under a Republican controlled North). We get into unpopular fights (Bush a Republican with Iraq and Kennedy a Democrat with Vietnam) , and there are lots of other "undemocratic" things we've done as a nation (like decimate native American tribes and imprison American citizens of Japanese descent during WWII). I'm not proud of that stuff. But I am proud that we defeated fascism, put a man on the moon, and come to the aid of nations recovering from disasters who generally end up resenting us anyway. Do the positives count for anything? I guarantee that Michael Moore and that fat little singer for the Dixie Chicks would have been executed in Nazi Germany for saying far less about Hitler than they have about our country. I'm tired of hearing my liberal friends bitching about having "all their rights being taken away". Bullshit. If that was true, just about anyone blogging about anything would be whisked away in the middle of the night by the secret police. How many times has that happened to you Michael? Rosie? Stephen Decatur once said "Our Country! In her intercourse with foreign nations may she always be in the right; but right or wrong, our country!" If you don't know who Decatur is, Google him. I'm not going to spoon feed you.
'Nuff said.