Where will you be?

I turned 39 last Saturday. My good friend and ‘spiritual advisor’ turns 40 tomorrow. I asked him today, “Is this where you’d thought you’d be when you turned 40?” His response, “I had no idea where I’d be when I turned 40.”

It got me to thinking, which is usually a bad thing. I started to wonder if I should have made plans and laid out my life like so many others do. I’ve always coasted through life, trying to avoid stress or unpleasantness and have succeeded for the most part, but at what costs? If I took more risks, would I be more successful now, more financially secure? Still married, but to someone else? Would I have had kids? It’s a lot to think about.

I was never a planner. In high school, the plan was to get out and move away. Got that one right. In college, the plan was to be a doctor, but then realized you don’t just be a doctor. All the bullshit you had to go through just didn’t seem worth it. Plus, I absolutely sucked at math (Ari?) and you can’t be a doctor without it. So, I got a psych degree instead, which has never been taken out of its box. Well, not officially, that is, since my professors made me sign a Will not practice psychology ever. agreement before they’d allow me to graduate. I’ve kept my word and never practiced. Thankfully, I was smart enough to get a business minor, which paid the bills.

Now that I’m 39, I start to wonder where I’ll be in the next 10 years. The next 20 years. Am I saving enough to retire on comfortably? (Uh, no.) Will I be remarried? Have kids, or step-kids, or grandkids, or step-grandkids? Will I still be fat? Will I make it 20 years? 30 years? 40 years?!?

What about you, Dear Reader? Do you have a plan? Is your life mapped out for the next howevermany years or are you flying by the seat of your pants? As for me, I think I’ll continue to fly. Hell, I was never very good at following maps, anyway. This plane’s a two-seater if anyone wants to ride shotgun. I must warn you, though, once we start this journey, I’m not stoppin’ every hour to pee. You’ll just have to hold it.

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JA Bowling Classic Redux

OK, folks, there are only 4 days left to donate for the Junior Achievement Bowling Classic. I’ve gotten $80.00 in donations so far, and really want to thank all of you that donated.

Don’t forget, the dogs are going to randomly select one lucky donor for a $25.00 Amazon gift card.

All monies donated go directly to Junior Achievement.

Shave my what?

A good friend is turning 40 on Friday. As a tribute, or to mock him, 5 of us are talking about shaving our head to look like him. He has the typical monk look, bald on top, hair around the sides.

We’re about 95% agreed that we’ll do it, then shave the rest of it off.

Opinions?

GRRR!!

I am fixin’ to choke the ever-livin’ shit outta some people. I have 4 users who are trying to connect to our office via VPN. Each one has a different kind of internet connection and each one is having different issues. And each one is crawling my ass to get them fixed. Fine. You want them fixed? I’ll fix ’em.

Effective immediately, we will no longer support users attempting to access our VPN via a home wireless network. How the fuck do you like them apples, huh?

Effective immediately, we will no longer support users attempting to access our VPN who use the built-in Windows VPN dialer. You want in? You use our Cisco VPN software. You got more complaints? Bring ’em on! BRING! ‘EM! ON!

Effective immediately, if you access our VPN via a home wireless network, you better have WEP security enabled or I’m going to stomp a mudhole in your ass and walk it DRY!

Well, I must say I feel better. Nothing like solving problems by eliminating them all together.

Y’all have a nice day.

Girl Scout Cookies

This is from the 3leggeddog archives. One of the guys brought the dreaded cookies in this morning, so I pulled this one out of the vault:

The Girl Scout cookies arrived today. I bought 3 boxes, one of Thin Mint, one of Peanut Butter sandwich, and one of Fudge-dipped shortbread (pease exuz any tipos…the drool is makin the kebord slipery).

I am in the middle of my 27th annual “It’s Time to Lose Weight” diet marathon, so this is a really bad time for the cookies to appear. I was going to give them away, but the Thin Mints looked so sad when I told them they were going to a better place that I just couldn’t do it. Maybe I can just leave them in the breakroom. The vultures in this department will eat any unattended food as long as it doesn’t smell too bad.

The sad part is that I keep stealing glances at them as I type. Hello, little cookie, how are you today? You seem pretty lonely in that box. Would you like to see how nice and sunny it is outside? You would? Oh, that’s wonderful. Here, let me open the box for you. There now, isn’t that better? What? You can’t see? How about I hold you up to my eye-level so you can look out the window. See the squirrels playing. Aren’t they fun to watch. You’re cold? Oh, I’m sorry. Here, I’ll just hold you in my mouth to keep you nice and warm. Is that better? I’m so happy. You’ll be safe in there. Nothing bad will happen to…CRUNCH!

That doesn’t sound right

I called the local Mazda dealer to make an appointment for an oil change. It went something like this:

Mazda: Service Department, can I help you?

Me: Yes Ma’am, I need to bring my car in for an oil change.

Mazda: Can I get your name?

Me: Sure, it’s Howard G—-in.

Mazda: (typing) Hmm. I don’t show a G—-and.

Me: No, Ma’am, there’s no a, n, d. It’s i, n.

Mazda: Oh. Sorry. Let me try that again. (keys clicking) I still don’t find you. You said it’s “G—-an”.

Me: No, Ma’am. It’s an i, and an n. In. G—-, then an i, then an n. I as in “icycle” and n as in “nancy”.

Mazda: (keys clicking). I still don’t find you. Are you sure that’s correct? It just doesn’t sound right.

Me: Well, that’s how my Dad taught me to spell it. He wasn’t very good at spelling though, so he might’ve gotten it wrong. Do you think we could try it one letter at a time?

Mazda: Um, sure. Whatever.

I spell it one letter at a time and have her repeat it as she types.

Mazda: OH! There you are. Howard G—-in.

Me: Yes Ma’am, that’s me. Just like my Daddy taught me.