I found twenty dollars in my pocket today. That was pretty cool. I have no idea where it came from, though. Hmm. I hope these are my pants.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Sometimes They Come Back
Thursday, November 17, 2005
John
18 comments
This may come as a shock to those of you who check back here for updates every day, but I'd have to say that my biggest weakness is procrastination. Why put off until tomorrow what you can do next week? That's my motto. Actually, I was going to write about this earlier, but, well...you know.
Procrastination is my Kryptonite™. Actually, I've never been anywhere near Kryptonite. Maybe Kryptonite is my Kryptonite. I mean, it looks extremely radioactive, like it could give you cancer or something. But excluding actual Kryptonite, I'd say that procrastination is my Kryptonite.
Case in point: any number of the purchases I've made over the years based at least to some degree on the considerable savings I'd get from the mail-in-rebate. It always starts the same, "Wow, with the rebate, this is practically free!" My cell phone had a rebate of nearly 75%. But the problem with rebates is you have to mail them in. I don't think I've ever followed through and mailed in a rebate in my entire life. I did try once, but by the time I sent it out, the offer had expired. It's just too much effort. You've got to get the receipt, make copies of it if you bought more than one thing with a rebate offer, cut out the UPC code, find a stamp...why don't they just give the rebate at the store? If you ask me, it's a conspiracy controlled by the U.S. Postal Service.
I've had that ridiculous headset sitting at my house for a couple of weeks now, and if I don't send it back within thirty days, I'm stuck with a $300 bill. The time for procrastination has come and gone. This thing needs to go. I've carted it to and from work a few times, thinking I could mail it during lunch or take care of it over the weekend, but something always seems to get in the way and it ends up sitting back at my desk. I finally found some time Tuesday afternoon and I was determined to get rid of it once and for all.
I tucked it under my arm and set out for the Post Office. After waiting in line for a few minutes, I went up to the counter and argued my case. I told the guy that I a telemarketer sent me a package that I didn't want and that I wanted to return it without paying for shipping. He said that as long as it wasn't opened, I wouldn't have to pay. But...he couldn't accept it because it was sent to me through Airborne Express and that's how it had to be sent back. I asked him if he knew where an Airborne Express location was, but he didn't know. There was a Mailboxes Etc. near our old office, so I headed there. I stepped out of the Post Office and, as if on cue, it started to rain.
If I had another Kryptonite, like the red kind, it would probably be my navigational skills. I once got lost walking home from the train station, something I'd done several times before. But this time, I thought I'd take a shortcut. So instead of my usual route, which takes about 40 minutes, I hopelessly wandered around for four hours. Much of that time was spent going in the opposite direction. I probably could have walked to Boston in four hours, so it's kind of sad when you realize I pretty much stayed within the same few blocks of Braintree and Weymouth. I finally got to a pay phone and had my dad pick me up at Caswell's Seafood, which is only a few minutes from my house, but I just couldn't walk anymore.
Armed with this information, you can probably see what coming next. I left the Post Office and walked down to where I thought Mailboxes Etc. was. Before I left the office, John T. told me where it was, just in case I ended up having to go there. So I went over to the corner where he said I would find it, but it wasn't there. I don't know what it is about that place, but I could never remember where it was, even though it was relatively close to our old office. I thought maybe he had the wrong intersection, so I combed three blocks in each direction, but to no avail. The rain collecting on my glasses wasn't helping the cause, either. After about twenty minutes, I called the office and asked John T. where it was again. He said it had been a few years since he'd been there, so it might have closed, but it was at the corner of Appleton and Columbus Ave. So I went back to where those two streets meet, and I'll be damned if I wasn't staring right at Mailboxes Etc. I swear to God it wasn't there the first time.
Or, to be more accurate, I wasn't there the first time. I was at the corner of Appleton and Clarendon, four blocks away from where I started.
Just thankful to have found the place, I went inside and propped the infernal package on the countertop.
"Do you take Airborne Express packages? I'm trying to get rid of this thing."
"Um...DHL? Generally, no. But you can call them and have them arrange a pick-up."
"I just...I got this thing from a telemarketer and I don't want the damn thing and I'm not going to pay to send it back."
"They should be able to take care of that for you if you call the 800 number."
Feeling somewhat defeated, I put the package back under my arm and trudged back to the office. At least now I knew how to get rid of it once and for all.
Back at the office, I typed "Airborne Express" into Google and came up with the DHL homepage. I found their 800 number and gave them a call. It wouldn't be long now. After a few minutes of Musak peppered with reminders that my call is important to them, I was greeted by a very nice young woman who listened to my story and, after a brief meeting with her supervisor, said they would pick up the package and return it without billing me. She asked for the location of the pick-up and final destination and told me someone would be over before five. At last! The Hello Direct saga was over!
So why is there another paragraph? Well, you know at the end of horror movies, after the killer gets shot, stabbed, impaled, beheaded and drowned several times over and everyone is calm for a few seconds, then BAM! He inexplicably springs back to life? I came home Wednesday night to find a present waiting for me...
THEY SENT IT BACK TO MY HOUSE!!!
Unbelievable. It came back the very next day, like The Cat in the Hat. What is it going to take to rid myself of this monstrosity? Even now it sits on my desk, mocking me. I put in another call to DHL, and wrote "Return to Sender" in huge black Sharpie. With any luck, this time it'll be gone for good.
Fantasy Football Update: Week 10
The Dingleberries are clinging on to first place at 7-2-1.
Procrastination is my Kryptonite™. Actually, I've never been anywhere near Kryptonite. Maybe Kryptonite is my Kryptonite. I mean, it looks extremely radioactive, like it could give you cancer or something. But excluding actual Kryptonite, I'd say that procrastination is my Kryptonite.
Case in point: any number of the purchases I've made over the years based at least to some degree on the considerable savings I'd get from the mail-in-rebate. It always starts the same, "Wow, with the rebate, this is practically free!" My cell phone had a rebate of nearly 75%. But the problem with rebates is you have to mail them in. I don't think I've ever followed through and mailed in a rebate in my entire life. I did try once, but by the time I sent it out, the offer had expired. It's just too much effort. You've got to get the receipt, make copies of it if you bought more than one thing with a rebate offer, cut out the UPC code, find a stamp...why don't they just give the rebate at the store? If you ask me, it's a conspiracy controlled by the U.S. Postal Service.
I've had that ridiculous headset sitting at my house for a couple of weeks now, and if I don't send it back within thirty days, I'm stuck with a $300 bill. The time for procrastination has come and gone. This thing needs to go. I've carted it to and from work a few times, thinking I could mail it during lunch or take care of it over the weekend, but something always seems to get in the way and it ends up sitting back at my desk. I finally found some time Tuesday afternoon and I was determined to get rid of it once and for all.
I tucked it under my arm and set out for the Post Office. After waiting in line for a few minutes, I went up to the counter and argued my case. I told the guy that I a telemarketer sent me a package that I didn't want and that I wanted to return it without paying for shipping. He said that as long as it wasn't opened, I wouldn't have to pay. But...he couldn't accept it because it was sent to me through Airborne Express and that's how it had to be sent back. I asked him if he knew where an Airborne Express location was, but he didn't know. There was a Mailboxes Etc. near our old office, so I headed there. I stepped out of the Post Office and, as if on cue, it started to rain.
If I had another Kryptonite, like the red kind, it would probably be my navigational skills. I once got lost walking home from the train station, something I'd done several times before. But this time, I thought I'd take a shortcut. So instead of my usual route, which takes about 40 minutes, I hopelessly wandered around for four hours. Much of that time was spent going in the opposite direction. I probably could have walked to Boston in four hours, so it's kind of sad when you realize I pretty much stayed within the same few blocks of Braintree and Weymouth. I finally got to a pay phone and had my dad pick me up at Caswell's Seafood, which is only a few minutes from my house, but I just couldn't walk anymore.
Armed with this information, you can probably see what coming next. I left the Post Office and walked down to where I thought Mailboxes Etc. was. Before I left the office, John T. told me where it was, just in case I ended up having to go there. So I went over to the corner where he said I would find it, but it wasn't there. I don't know what it is about that place, but I could never remember where it was, even though it was relatively close to our old office. I thought maybe he had the wrong intersection, so I combed three blocks in each direction, but to no avail. The rain collecting on my glasses wasn't helping the cause, either. After about twenty minutes, I called the office and asked John T. where it was again. He said it had been a few years since he'd been there, so it might have closed, but it was at the corner of Appleton and Columbus Ave. So I went back to where those two streets meet, and I'll be damned if I wasn't staring right at Mailboxes Etc. I swear to God it wasn't there the first time.
Or, to be more accurate, I wasn't there the first time. I was at the corner of Appleton and Clarendon, four blocks away from where I started.
Just thankful to have found the place, I went inside and propped the infernal package on the countertop.
"Do you take Airborne Express packages? I'm trying to get rid of this thing."
"Um...DHL? Generally, no. But you can call them and have them arrange a pick-up."
"I just...I got this thing from a telemarketer and I don't want the damn thing and I'm not going to pay to send it back."
"They should be able to take care of that for you if you call the 800 number."
Feeling somewhat defeated, I put the package back under my arm and trudged back to the office. At least now I knew how to get rid of it once and for all.
Back at the office, I typed "Airborne Express" into Google and came up with the DHL homepage. I found their 800 number and gave them a call. It wouldn't be long now. After a few minutes of Musak peppered with reminders that my call is important to them, I was greeted by a very nice young woman who listened to my story and, after a brief meeting with her supervisor, said they would pick up the package and return it without billing me. She asked for the location of the pick-up and final destination and told me someone would be over before five. At last! The Hello Direct saga was over!
So why is there another paragraph? Well, you know at the end of horror movies, after the killer gets shot, stabbed, impaled, beheaded and drowned several times over and everyone is calm for a few seconds, then BAM! He inexplicably springs back to life? I came home Wednesday night to find a present waiting for me...
THEY SENT IT BACK TO MY HOUSE!!!
Unbelievable. It came back the very next day, like The Cat in the Hat. What is it going to take to rid myself of this monstrosity? Even now it sits on my desk, mocking me. I put in another call to DHL, and wrote "Return to Sender" in huge black Sharpie. With any luck, this time it'll be gone for good.
Fantasy Football Update: Week 10
The Dingleberries are clinging on to first place at 7-2-1.
Monday, November 14, 2005
A Question For the Ages
Monday, November 14, 2005
John
10 comments
The fine folks at the Comedy Research Institute have dedicated their lives to the scientific pursuit of a higher understanding of comedy. Some have even given their lives to this pursuit (see "the great custard pie massacre of 1932") Others merely die on the inside, toiling away in CRI's vast archives, in search of answers to comedy's most Sphynx-like riddles: "Why is a raven like a writing desk?" "What is the average person's threshold for knock-knock jokes?" and, of course, "Is Andy Dick punishment from God?"
Today, CRI "Laughologists" ask you to kindly participate in the poll below, scientifically designed to extrapolate the "lifespan" of topical humor. The results of the poll will be printed in the December issue of Comedy Research Institute's Published Essays & Stories. For a copy of CRIPES, please ask for it by name at your local newsstand, where you will be openly mocked and called a silly person for asking for a made-up publication.
One more point of interest: In it's vigourous search of the internet, CRI has discovered other instances of the name "Comedy Research Institute" on the world wide web and have therefore decided to rename their organization the University of Finding Out Why Things Are Funny. This change will take effect in the next issue of UFOWTAFPES.
Today, CRI "Laughologists" ask you to kindly participate in the poll below, scientifically designed to extrapolate the "lifespan" of topical humor. The results of the poll will be printed in the December issue of Comedy Research Institute's Published Essays & Stories. For a copy of CRIPES, please ask for it by name at your local newsstand, where you will be openly mocked and called a silly person for asking for a made-up publication.
One more point of interest: In it's vigourous search of the internet, CRI has discovered other instances of the name "Comedy Research Institute" on the world wide web and have therefore decided to rename their organization the University of Finding Out Why Things Are Funny. This change will take effect in the next issue of UFOWTAFPES.
Friday, November 11, 2005
The Final Countdown
Friday, November 11, 2005
John
7 comments
Over the past few years, TV has become less of a form of entertainment and more like a form of torture. The airwaves have been cluttered with mind-numbingly awful sitcoms, scores of CSI and Law & Order clones, and an unrelenting torrent of reality shows that are so bottom-of-the-barrel putrid, they leave you begging for more mind-numbingly awful sitcoms and CSI and Law & Order clones. Anything that's even remotely interesting is swiftly and quietly taken out back and put down.
But every season I come back, with the hopes that one of those good shows might last a season or two. No matter how many times I've been beat down, I always come back. Network TV is the Ike to my Tina.
And you know what? For the first few weeks of this season, I thought this time really was going to be different. I mean, would the old network TV even let a show like My Name is Earl make it on the air, let alone pick it up for the whole season? There's no laugh track. There's only one camera. Just like a certain other great show that had just happen to get the nod for a third season. Yes, after a summer of uncertainty, Arrested Development came back. See, TV had changed!
Silly, stupid Tina.
I guess I have no one to blame but myself for the shiner I got this afternoon. Of course, I could blame the network geniuses at FOX, who apparently have no idea how to handle an Emmy-winning, critically-acclaimed comedy. In hindsight, perhaps premiering the third season opener against a special Hurricaine Katrina relief telethon edition of Monday Night Football, then pulling the show for several weeks in favor of the lowest-rated World Series in television history were not the greatest ways to attract new veiwers. To their credit, they did show two episodes back-to-back this week, it's first week back since the WS, and apparently last until some time in December. But hey, Stacked! is coming back!
Tim Kring isn't off the hook, either. Who's Tim Kring, you ask? Only the writer of a little movie called Teen Wolf Too. To this day, simply mentioning "Jason Bateman" will cause some people to set themselves on fire and jump out the nearest window. Those poor, jaded souls probably never even gave Arrested Development a chance. It's a shame, because they're really missing out. Plus, they're on fire.
But really, most of the blame lays squarely on the shoulders of the veiwing public. How many times have your co-workers told you about this show, only to have you say you'll "get around" to watching it? Maybe you've even chuckled at the name Bob Loblaw (and by the way, if you haven't, you're some kind of robot), or at the opening line of his commercial, "Why should you go to jail for a crime that someone else...noticed?" Maybe you stopped while flipping through the channels one night and thought to yourself, "Hey, is that Super Dave? I'm pretty sure that's Super Dave. Why does he have a camera on his head? Huh. That's weird. Oooh! Navy Seals!"
In the end, it's probably for the best. With any luck, Arrested Development will land on HBO, possibly coupled with Curb Your Enthusiasm, where it will collect mounds of awards and hopefully work in a ton of jokes at FOX's expense. Are you listening, HBO? Even with the low ratings AD's getting now, it's bound to do better than The Comeback.
If you've still never seen the show, the first and second seasons are available on DVD. You can even buy the second season from the sidebar over there and help me out a little. I don't want to try to sway your decision, but Brianna sleeps on the floor. Anyway, once you're all caught up, you can check out the o.p. and join the ranks of AD fans. FOX may not realize it, but there are dozens of us. Dozens!
But every season I come back, with the hopes that one of those good shows might last a season or two. No matter how many times I've been beat down, I always come back. Network TV is the Ike to my Tina.
And you know what? For the first few weeks of this season, I thought this time really was going to be different. I mean, would the old network TV even let a show like My Name is Earl make it on the air, let alone pick it up for the whole season? There's no laugh track. There's only one camera. Just like a certain other great show that had just happen to get the nod for a third season. Yes, after a summer of uncertainty, Arrested Development came back. See, TV had changed!
Silly, stupid Tina.
I guess I have no one to blame but myself for the shiner I got this afternoon. Of course, I could blame the network geniuses at FOX, who apparently have no idea how to handle an Emmy-winning, critically-acclaimed comedy. In hindsight, perhaps premiering the third season opener against a special Hurricaine Katrina relief telethon edition of Monday Night Football, then pulling the show for several weeks in favor of the lowest-rated World Series in television history were not the greatest ways to attract new veiwers. To their credit, they did show two episodes back-to-back this week, it's first week back since the WS, and apparently last until some time in December. But hey, Stacked! is coming back!Tim Kring isn't off the hook, either. Who's Tim Kring, you ask? Only the writer of a little movie called Teen Wolf Too. To this day, simply mentioning "Jason Bateman" will cause some people to set themselves on fire and jump out the nearest window. Those poor, jaded souls probably never even gave Arrested Development a chance. It's a shame, because they're really missing out. Plus, they're on fire.
But really, most of the blame lays squarely on the shoulders of the veiwing public. How many times have your co-workers told you about this show, only to have you say you'll "get around" to watching it? Maybe you've even chuckled at the name Bob Loblaw (and by the way, if you haven't, you're some kind of robot), or at the opening line of his commercial, "Why should you go to jail for a crime that someone else...noticed?" Maybe you stopped while flipping through the channels one night and thought to yourself, "Hey, is that Super Dave? I'm pretty sure that's Super Dave. Why does he have a camera on his head? Huh. That's weird. Oooh! Navy Seals!"
In the end, it's probably for the best. With any luck, Arrested Development will land on HBO, possibly coupled with Curb Your Enthusiasm, where it will collect mounds of awards and hopefully work in a ton of jokes at FOX's expense. Are you listening, HBO? Even with the low ratings AD's getting now, it's bound to do better than The Comeback.
If you've still never seen the show, the first and second seasons are available on DVD. You can even buy the second season from the sidebar over there and help me out a little. I don't want to try to sway your decision, but Brianna sleeps on the floor. Anyway, once you're all caught up, you can check out the o.p. and join the ranks of AD fans. FOX may not realize it, but there are dozens of us. Dozens!