NiceHoles: The Candyland Edition

A new NiceHole has been uncovered:

The SweetHole.

DO NOT GOOGLE THAT AT WORK, you will be put back on that list you had to work to get removed from.

The SweetHole is a NiceHole who provides some sort of confection as a way of saying "Aren't I wonderful?" Really, their intent is not to bring candy to co-workers and share some joy, it's just to get rid of stuff they aren't going to eat at home. Nice, but come on...
The road to this blog is paved with the good intentions of people who are retarded in a way you can't test for.

I've noted this before in THIS BLOG about good intentions. Candy in the workplace should be familiar, individually wrapped, and portable. You wanna sandbag 40 packages of Coconut M&Ms near the printer, GREAT, you should be canonized.

But you want to leave a box of "Orchard Fruits" (the smelly 3rd-cousin version of Fartlets&Craplets) along with those wax bottles filled with colored syrup out by the garbage cans?

What kind of skidwagon raised you?

Work candy should be, if NOT chocolate, close to it.

Everything else falls short and you should just stop trying to be nice to people. If you're not willing to fess-up that you shop for groceries at a drug store, then you aren't good with work candy. Stick with collecting Faerie Tale Cat Figurines.

NICEHOLES. They're everywhere.


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NiceHoles

NICEHOLE: Any person who, while "just being themselves," and not necessarily being rude or mean, still manages to bother the living shit out of you.

For example:
The Feeder: Any NiceHole demanding that you 'have a bite, just a bite, take some, take some food, EAT SOMETHING!" even if you are hunched over in front of their toilet, throwing up after a frosting binge. Should you deny their culinary advances, YOU are the rude one.

The Knowblivious ("no-bli-vee-us"): This NiceHole knows something about everything, and will start a pointless conversation merely to tell you something about it.

WhistHoler: This person whistles indoors. Like a gigantic asshole. Because there's no music. And there's no music indoors for a reason. And they're a gigantic asshole and have to make noise. And when you blow, you suck.

The TimeJacker: Often starting in Knowblivion, the TimeJacker is a master of the circuitous route to NoWhereberg.
While the topic may start with something you didn't want to talk about, the trip from "A good place to eat" winds through "the time he ate BBQ in Tulsa" to "the best place to buy a banjo" to "streetracing in the 1970's" to "the Coast Guard has a boat with a gun that shoots lasers" to "why he makes his own cheese" and ends with tips on "owning your own alpaca farm." Everyone works with this pile.

NiceHoles is now ALL MINE!

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Workin' It: Good Intentions vs. Good Traffic

There are days, as a new dad, that getting out of bed before 6:45 anti-Meridian is as likely as Barack Obama second-guessing himself. But today I was DETERMINED to do so. Getting a good start on the day is vital to getting the F outta work early.

So I got up and got moving. With only the most-minor lollygagging, I was outta the house by about 7:45 so that I could get to work at a decent hour, so that I could walk the 1/4-mile from the off-site, across-street, near-campus parking afforded to me, the lowly contractor.

Normally I'll leave the house around 8:10-8:20 and, with but a few red light waits (great name for a bearded indie band NOW NOW NOW) I zip to work and arrive by 8:45. Today, ha HA!, I left around 7:50. There was a back-up to the on-ramp, through 2 lights, stretching nearly 1.5miles. I thought it was just a small backer at the crosswalk as some Immigrant youth made their way to the public transit stop so as to ride to their "America Today!" classes. NOPE... Big stinkin' backup. So I said a long stream of expletives about debt and mortgages and sleep deprivation and the entitlement of youth and people who buy Aplets & Cotlets and why can't I install a new version of an internet browser at work instead of the shit-pile that is IE6 which does NOT have tabbed browsing??? NO, it does NOT have it unless you bang-in the MSN Toolbar which I cannot do, as I'm lacking admin privileges on this machine. Otherwise I'd be elbows-deep in iTunes. Pssssh!

The huge back-up to the on-ramp ellicited a new circuitous route to 405-North.

Long-story short, when it comes to your morning commute, there are 2 things you must keep in mind.
FIRST, are you leaving the house at a time when you are accustomed-to, even if it gets you into the office a bit later, but absolves you of jams longer than Phish unspooling at Bonnaroo?
SECOND, are you knocking out your debt so that this morning commute will soon be a thing of the past and you can take that drive leisurely in the near future, driving in the carpool lane with your giant middle finger raised to the Rat Racers?

Had I not left for Los Angeles a few years ago we'd likely not be in a position where I'd have to go do this work or take this trip. But Life is funny the way bee stings are tingly. You gotta go and do a few different things to really remind yourself of why you gotta stay the F outta debt.

To paraphrase Thoreau, "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams, thy traffic maps be damned." What an asshole. Probably telecommuted.



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I Can Hear You Now

Okay, I've decided on a sense I would give up if I had to lose one of my senses.

The decision was made for me, really.
At first, I figured that I'd go with "taste." If I wanted to drop a sense, it would be Taste. The upside is that I wouldn't be tempted in most ways that I am tempted by certain things. The downside is that, if I lost my sense of taste, I would start enjoying the music of Nickelback, The Music Industry's Answer to Illegal Downloading. Plus, I love foods. And I have a lot to try.

So I went another way. Or, like I said, the way came to me, and I said "mmmmB'okay." I know that I'll live a long, healthy life, vibrant and full of fun clothes and trips. But if I had to be robbed of a sense, of the 5 we have (Smell, Sight, Touch, Taste, Hearing), oh crap, EASY...

HEARING.

• I can read captions to funny movies and humorous passages in books.
• I can remember how many of my old favorite songs sound, but most of today's music is recycled from an era I wasn't that hip to anyway.
• I would never have to listen to somebody tell a totally F'ed-up joke. Not a "wrong" joke, a joke they aren't smart enough to remember the proper delivery to.
• I wouldn't have to listen to people complain about how their $5 coffee doesn't taste enough like coffee after they put enough milk and flavor in it to give a leprechaun insulin shock.
• Crying babies? Never again.
• Children's laughter? Creepier than you think.
• You're gonna have to come into the room to tell me the cat has diarrhea.
• Co-worker's diatribe, punctuated with mistimed giggling, about how "this place used to have creamer but now, I uh, my friend works at a place that has creamer and this place used to have creamer, and uh..." WHAT? WHERE IS THIS GOING? WHAT DO YOU WANT? WHAT?

SORRY, I cannot hear you. The Lord has blessed me. So what, I have to talk with my hands and tell people via written word that I'm unable to hear them? Look at all I have lost! It would be worth it.

Think of all the stuff you are inundated with on a daily basis that just turns to white-noise in your mind.
Never again.
The aliens have it right. TELEPATHY. ABDUCTION. PROBES.

Humor is a sense, much like taste.
Some people can enjoy the foie gras, the slow-braised elk tenderloin, and the cheese pairings. Some, well, they're just pissed you passed ANOTHER Arby's, man.

So yes, Hearing. If I had to lose a sense, it would be hearing. No more Nickelback. Yes, I'd choose to lose my sense of hearing,
Or Decency. I'm tired of gut aches from non-farting in public. Or maybe half-decency, half-smell. I think too few people have the perspective of what I could be doing in grocery aisles and various clothiers. So yeah, Decency would be the other sense I may give up.

I should re-think this.

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