The Fat Chancelor

He comes 'round 'bout this time of year, dripping with bacon and holiday cheer.
His cheeks fulla jerky and his mug fulla beer, something something flying reindeer...
Ho Ho Ho is blah blah say, and he's so fat....something about a sleigh..
Donner and Blitzen and Bob and Mittens and fourteen other names.....

Awww hell.  I can't remember.  It's an old Irish Christmas ditty that makes a lot of fun of Santa Claus for being fat and all drunk and stuff.  It's really not very good for getting people in the Christmas spirit.  Nothing like the dogs barking to the tune of jingle bells.

Can a skinny person be jolly?  I can't picture it.

Advice for Santa:  The white trim on your suit would be completely ruined after the first chimney-dive.  It's only a matter of time before some six-year-old fashion and fabric expert figures that out and sees through your lies.

It probably just me but I mistake Santa Claus for Tim Allen all the time.

Have you ever gone to a restaurant and the server doesn't write down your order, or the orders of anyone else at the table?  He just stands there with his hands behind his back nodding and repeating what you say.  That causes me great anxiety.  Will he get my order right or not? If he does....impressive....if not.....what a dick!  Is it worth the risk dude? All you have to do is WRITE IT DOWN.....dick!  Well, the feeling is quadrupled with Santa.  He sees like four hundred kids a day at the mall.  They sit on his fat sweaty lap and rattle off two dozen toys and games and Lego sets and specific colors of stuff and he doesn't write down a damn thing.  Come on man!  Be professional.  Have a database.  Get these kid's social security numbers, email addresses, birth dates, psychological profiles, and a strand of hair for DNA screening.  If you mess up this order buddy you've opened a can of unfettered hell fury.  What's worse is, you and your little modified fat guy accessible sled will have already skidded back to the north pole before the outbreak and the parents of these insane midgets have to deal with it.  Don't make me ask to see the manager.

I bet no one ever challenged Santa to a race.  He would lose every time.  Unless he uses magic.  Is Santa magic?  It seems like he must be magic or something to actually "do what he does" but they never really come out and say he's magic.  I think he has to be magic since he isn't real.  Most magic things aren't real.  Most fat guys aren't magic, but this guy is different.  He wears the weird matchy-matchy clothes and hat.

It sounds like I hate Santa....and I do.  But I love Christmas and I am joyful and filled with cheer.  But I have a problem with that one song about Santa "coming to town".  It's redundant.  If he knows when you are sleeping, then he would obviously know when you're awake....because that's when you are NOT sleeping.  Also, the song is so threatening.  I always wonder: what's he gonna do to me if I don't be good for goodness sake?  Is he coming here to enforce the "don't cry or pout" rule?

Dear Santa....all I want for Christmas this year is for you to stop scaring the children.  Write that down.

Rediscover Your Childhood Superpowers

As adults, we've lost certain supernatural abilities that we possessed as children. All humans are born with superpowers. Its science. These powers are developed during infancy and generally reach full implementation by the age of two. From the age of two until around nine these powers can be very strong. They morph and refine as the child ages but beyond the age of nine they start to weaken. Many experts say that the child begins to forget their powers with the onset of sporting and other activities. The consensus is that all children completely lose their superpowers at a certain point. For girls, its when they become interested in shopping. For boys, its when they become interested in the things girls are interested in to gain the interest of girls. A child cannot have superpowers and also a drivers license.

Imagine if you could reach down into your subconscious mind and pull those powers back into your present world (be careful not to bring any suppressed memories with them...they were suppressed for a reason). Well, maybe you can't imagine it without a little reminder of the powers themselves. If you are a parent, you'll probably realize while reading this that your child indeed has (or had) these powers and maybe more.

The cute reboot
The implementation of this power usually goes something like this:
Child: "Can I have some candy?"
Parent: "Not right now dear."
Child: "But I want some candy."
Parent: "Maybe after dinner sweetie."
Child: (Tilts head to side, folds hands, widens eyes, cutes-up and smiles) "Please??? I Love you soooo much!"
(Many have the ability to change the letter "L" to "W" or leave the L's out completely, which makes this power even more powerful).
What happens is, somewhere between the words "Pease" and "wuv", the parent's brain short circuits and reboots. The child senses when the reboot is complete and the parent's brain is running in DOS mode. They wait until the see the proverbial cursor flashing and the parent's mind is ready for a command.
Child: "Candy!"
Parent: "Sure honey! Just a little.". (hands child bag of jelly beans).
Oh how useful would this be at work? Pease Mr. Customer! You're soooo smart! Sign this purchase order!

The Sour Patch Kid
This power enables the child to do diabolical deeds and go unpunished. For example, the child takes a sharpie to the new couch. Drawing a delightful mess of squiggly interlocking black circles and criss-crossing lines that stand in stark contrast to the taupe mircofiber fabric of the sofa. Dad sees the masterpiece in progress and shouts "No No No! Don't do that!" and prepares for war. The child drops the marker, runs up and latches Dad's leg in a bear hug and says "Look daddy! I made this for you! I wuv you!", pointing at the sketch.
Dad: (after a brief pause):  "Its beautiful! Thank you!"

Surely you can see the practical application of this power in your daily work. Instead of causing your unemployment, your biggest screw-up gains praise from the boss.

Instant Heavy
Its time to leave someplace fun and the child doesn't want to go. As you approach, the child senses you are about to pick her up and take her home. When you get within three feet of her, she drops to her knees and relaxes her body and screams "No! I don't want to go home!" When you try to lift her up, she applies her power to become heavier than normal. In some cases, she may reach more than 10 times her normal weight. In most instances, the parent will try unsuccessfully two or three times to lift the child. Each time the child will steadfastly remain with knees planted on the floor while her arms flail up and she slips harmlessly through the parents hands. Over the years, parents have developed tactics to defeat this power. One such tactic is offering a bribe, like ice cream.

I'm not exactly sure how you can apply this in your life, but it would be cool to suddenly become temporarily extremely heavy. I guess we adults have forgotten how useful it can be to simply lift and carry each other around. We should probably get back to that. One possible application of the instant heavy power might be when you get fired. You don't have to leave voluntarily. Make them perform a "team lift" physical extraction. Or maybe they'll pay you to leave on your own.....with ice cream or real money.

There are many more childhood superpowers and there are infinite variations of these. As adults, if we are cognizant and aware of these powers, we might be able to trigger a revival of the powers in ourselves and put them to use. And don't make the mistake of trying to fight crime with these powers. They are only for personal gain, not the greater good.

Children have certain traits that compliment the superpowers and we need to take notice. They exhibit a calm innocence dispite there cunning. They have an unwavering confidence in their point of view. They cannot be swayed by tricks, coercion, simple reason, or even hard facts. They do not care about your feelings unless they need something from you. They can make complex mathematical calculations in a fraction of a second and they have a deep understanding of physics. You wouldn't know it by their answers to your silly little word problems or by their judgement of how fast the floor will meet them when they jump off the coffee table. But these two skills allow them to throw the messiest of objects at an impossible target with incredible accuracy. Imagine a handful of mashed potatoes flying directly into your last glass of wine as you carry it across the dining room thirty feet away. First of all, a handful of mashed potatoes shouldn't stay intact over a thirty foot flight but it will. Secondly, most adults couldn't hit that target with a laser-sight and two days of practice, but the kiddos nail it on the first try. Thirdly, if you have a child, you should never put yourself in a position to be holding your LAST glass of wine.

Keep an eye on your kids (and other people's kids too). They're up to something and you might be able to learn from them.

Six Lessons From a Dead-Souled Pessimist

I'm sure you know someone who just seems to poke a straw in your head and slowly suck every last ounce of joy out of you and they keep sucking until it makes that slurpy gurgling sound so they pull the straw in and out several times while shaking you to try and get the ice cubes out of the way so the straw can get down farther in case they might have missed a drop or two, figuratively of course. Or maybe you yourself are that sort of joy-suck who prefers to be miserable and has a deep primitive need for others to come along for the ride. Either way, you could find the following list of things enjoyable. (Which means half of you will hate it and the other half will listen to you bitch about it.

1) There is nothing more uplifting than watching a happy-go-lucky person fall and receive injuries.

2) A good day is easily ruined by a smile from a stranger.

3) Most people would rather eat a bag of live wasps than listen to you laugh.

4) Sure it might be a good joke but don't laugh or a demon will remove your gall bladder and spleen.

5) Fun is only for people who have no ability to hate everything, including furry little kittens.

6) At first you won't succeed, and it only gets worse from there.

How to Avoid Stabbing Yourself with Sharp Objects

This particular problem is far more complex than it seems on the surface. There are intricacies, dynamics, nuisances that must be explored before one can fully formulate an effective strategy to avoid a self-inflicted stab wound by a miscellaneous sharp object.

A cursory glance at the problem may lead to the over-simplified simple easy-peasy obvious conclusion that one can avoid this type of injury by just simply not stabbing themselves with a sharp object. Seems simple enough. Unfortunately, many times the message falls on deaf ears. That, in and of itself is not terrible because deaf ears are not sharp objects (please leave The Vulcans out of this). But, falling on, let's say, a javelin, could pose a potentially bloody problem. We can't just assume that those who stab themselves with sharp objects do so intentionally. Are there some who do? Sure. But even the most dedicated masochist has to be reminded of certain dangers. "Don't run with scissors" grandma used to say.

So we all agree that some sharp object self-stabbing injuries are accidental. But how do we avoid these? Once again, it would oversimplify the problem to say, in simple terms, "Be careful! That's sharp!"

"Hell I know it's sharp! It's a friggin harpoon! Do I look like an idiot? Oh damn! It's in my eye! Ouch! Pain!"

Yes. Now you do look like an idiot. Harpoons in the eye have that effect.

I'm sure there are statistics on this but you'll have to look them up yourself as I tell you what I think you'll find. At least 87% of all self-inflicted stab wounds come while the victim is trying to open something harmless with something harmful. Opening a beef jerky with an ice pick. A wine bottle with a steak knife. An enemy's neck with a broken wine bottle. Just a few examples.

The best advice I can offer, and this is key, is to use the right tool for the job. Corkscrews are for wine bottles. They are made to remove the cork from the bottle. They are not meant to pry open a pickle jar. Who decided that pickles should be sealed in their containers by lids with suction force witchcraft? There is only one tool on earth that can defeat this kind of sorcery. If you said "broadsword", you're right. Heed this warning and save a few stitches. If one more person misses work with the "pitchfork in my abdomen" excuse we'll probably have to start with the safety meetings again. And I for one would rather drive toothpicks under my toenails using a bayonetted rifle as a hammer.

Triple Coupon Bonus

Just a quick announcement:

You may have noticed our coupon in your local paper over the past four years, but we doubt it.  Since no one has actually cashed one in, we're pretty sure you've missed them.  We've been offering a "buy one get one" deal on our experimental IQ-enhancing herbal supplement and X-ray vision defense tablets.  No takers.  Sooooo, this month only, triple coupon values!!  Don't miss it.  Buy three get three free!! 

Please keep in mind that, like most coupons, the time it takes to find the thing, cut it out, and drive around town finding someone that stocks the product, is far more trouble than the coupon is worth.  In addition, you'll have to cut through a better coupon on the back of ours, therefore voiding something you wanted much more.  For example, this week in Topeka, the deal on the back of our coupon was for 75 cents off Charmin toilet paper eight-pack.  In Reno, half price moonshine.  Guarantee no one's gonna cut that in half to cash in our stupid deal for a stupid product that kills four out of four stupid laboratory animals that try the stupid stuff.  I don't get it.  Have you noticed how easily it seems lab mice get sick and die?  It's craziness.  They have to be the most unhealthy creatures on earth.  Maybe we should start experimenting on a more hearty animals, like Zebras or Rugby players.

Stushinball Denied Cafeteria Access, Sack Lunches to Follow

Phillip Stushinball, you are denied access to the corporate cafeteria plan. Not the insurance plan where you get a choice of different benefits, but the actual cafeteria meals program. You cannot eat food, drink drinks, look at the selection on the salad bar, or get a cup of ice. You cannot enter the cafeteria at all. Not even to say hi to Doris, your wife, who works behind the deli counter. If we catch you trying to smell any aromas from the cafeteria that may find their way into the hall, disciplinary action will be taken.

As you know, we provide free access to everything in the cafeteria (including Doris) to all eligible employees. I'm sure you thought that free lunches would help with your monthly budget. You may have even been socking away that extra cash for the past month while you were on the plan. Maybe you were going to get that hip replacement you've always wanted, or a swimming pool. Looks like you'll have to find another way to save up to $11.49 per day.

You may be thinking to yourself "how can this be? I thought all employees get free cafeteria stuff!".

Well, no. Not really. The benefit is only for ELIGIBLE employees. You are not one of those, and here's why:

If you refer to the online version of the employee handbook (found on the company intranet site under Benefits/Cafeteria/Access/Eligibility/TechnicalSupport/Documents/Forms/Documents/Forms and Documents/Non-essential Documents), you will clearly see the requirements for eligibility under company policy. In addition, in the written copy of the employee handbook, in section 33.41.6.8.112 on page 1267 under the Heading "Miscellaneous Items to Ignore", the policy is outlined in great detail (and tiny little microscopic print).

Under this policy, in order to become eligible, you must submit certain documentation within 30 days of employment. The documentation includes: a copy of your birth certificate, a copy of your driver's license, a notarized copy of a physical exam from a qualified physician, a daily caloric intake estimate, a tooth, and a good joke.

Yesterday marked 30 days of employment and we have not received the required documentation. Your cafeteria access is revoked effective immediately. There is no appeal to this decision. You may attempt to re-enroll in the plan at your 29th anniversary of employment.

We understand that you may find this policy harsh and that it sucks big time for you, but this is the policy and it is strictly enforced (unless you are an executive, a minority, a diabetic, or a fun guy to hang out with on weekends).

Your plea for an exception, even with your verification documentation, will be ignored so please don't bother. We already know you are going to try to claim that you didn't know, that no one told you, and that it isn't fair. But really now Phillip (may we call you Phil?), you have access to the intranet site and the handbook which both make it completely obvious. It's right there for all to see. Plus, two weeks ago we sent a reminder letter to an address in your neighborhood. You can say you didn't receive it but we all know that the postal service......exists. Besides, our notes say we mailed it so you have no leg to stand on. Now, if you can prove that you lost your legs due to diabetes, then we may reconsider.

Have a great day. Also, have Doris throw together a weekly menu for your sack lunch and go get some groceries. Remember to put your name on it though because there are a bunch of people in your department who don't have access to the cafeteria plan for the same reason as you. They are hungry and pissed.

Sincerely,

Supreme Czar of Sub-human Resources

How To Not Exist

Once you've done it, it's very difficult to undo, but still....everyone does it. And every thing, for that matter. There is nothing on earth that doesn't exist, (except this company).

Sure, critics will say that dinosaurs don't exist. But they did! They fall under the category of "things that no longer exist", along with the mastodon, the Mayans, and good customer service.

Some will also say ghosts don't exist, or unicorns don't exist, or whatever but they are incorrect and here's why: because I've seen these things. That makes it impossible for them to not exist. It follows the universal law of existence which states: that which does not exist cannot also exist.

If you think about that too long your brain will completely die for a couple of seconds. Look at it. THAT which does not exist??? What is THAT? And what is IS? If it is, then it exists. Something either IS or it IS NOT.
And THAT.....IS......SOMETHING,

Wait a minute! I've one hundred percent confused myself.

Indians no longer exist. (I mean the kind with all the feathers and face paint, not the hotel owners and tech support people).That's a shame because if anyone could explain what i'm saying it would be an indian. I'm picturing the guy with the big head dress sitting with his legs crossed and tucked under each other (there's a name for that style of sitting but it escapes me). In my vision, he's sitting by a fire and smoking a bitchin' nine-foot pipe. With his face lit softly by the flickering glow and gentle whisps of smoke dancing around his ridiculous hat, he would probably ponder for a bit before smugly saying something like "the sun does not shine on a hawk's wing without permission, and things in the shadows are weeping". And then I would say "that makes absolutely no sense". And he would kill me with a sharp rock.

I'm just gonna go ahead and forget about trying to teach you how to not exist. As you can see, it is quite complex and there is a very good chance that you would accidentally cause your own cerebral aneurism.

Unless, the answer lies within these words. Seek understanding of this message. You won't find it. It doesn't exist. It is not. So there it is.

Directions to Walgreen's

There cannot be anyone alive who has ever asked for them. Cannot be. You can't swing a dead cat around here without hitting a Walgreen's store. It's a good thing too. How many times have you suddenly needed allergy medicine, batteries, donuts, and an oscillating fan all at the same time while traveling across town? Thank goodness you don't have to stop at a CVS for directions because you can clearly see the Walgreen's on the adjacent corner next to the Starbuck's with the Wal-mart behind it.
Speaking of Starbucks....you may need directions to that joint. Not that you can't find it, but you'll need some kind of manual to operate yourself once you enter the place. Can a guy just get a large coffee? NO! They don't have small, medium, and large sizes. They have tall, grande, and venti. Then you have to sign all these release forms and fill out questionnaires to explain that you just want plain ole black coffee.  (Actual Directions Here)

When you shop at Walgreen's, you serve yourself. You go grab what you need, take it to the register and pay the lady with the blue vest who will rarely bother you unless she has a "register reward" coupon that will save you money on something you're buying anyway. It's so easy. Even that sweaty guy in the greeting card aisle who appears to be intoxicated can do it. You don't have to deal with some condescending punk making you feel like you're the stupid one because you refuse to put foamy dairy products in your morning joe. Besides, I really enjoy the blatant ironies of the Walgreen's experience. Like the lady in front of you buying cough medicine and cigarettes. Or the one demanding her four kids to put the candy back on the shelf because "it's not good for you" while she heaves a basket full of cheap beer and pork rinds onto the counter. I love that. It's so refreshing to see a young man taking responsibility as he buys a pregnancy test and package of condoms. And then there is the broken-spirited forty-something guy who obviously doesn't want to be there but he just ran in to grab some tampons for the wife yet somehow finds himself drawn to the cover of the Cosmopolitan magazine at the register, so he grabs one of those too. I'm assuming he just looks at the pictures. You know damn well he didn't ask for directions. In fact, I bet he would tell you he sometimes turns into the parking lot out of habit on his way home, even though he doesn't need anything.

Sure, you can get all the things that Walgreen's sells and more at the Wal-mart. You can even find a blue-vested lady, but it isn't the same lady nor dies she give a flip about any register rewards. And Wal-mart doesn't have those convenient corner lots. I like them. They're convenient

Sometimes, when I'm at Walgreen's, just for kicks I'll walk up to the lady in the blue vest and say, "I'll have a to-go grande pike place roast, 180 degrees, with a single shot of sugar-free vanilla, stirred please.". She'll just laugh and point me next door to the Starbuck's in front of the Wal-mart adjacent to the CVS. I love her so very much. If only we had a couple of her around this place.

Angela Snook Receives Stapler Upgrade

We are pleased to announce today that our own Mrs. Angela Snook has been issued a new stapler. Angela has requested a new stapler forty-six times over her five-year stint as Assistant Binder of Multi-page Documents. As ABMD, Angela is responsible for stapling report pages together, specifically those reports between two and twelve pages in length. By definition, her role requires a decent stapler even though the pages she staples will be separated again when they reach the desk of the Assistant Report Separator (who suddenly thinks she needs a new staple remover).

Mrs. Snook says she is proud to finally have adequate equipment that will allow her to be more efficient and grow in her career. We regret that it has taken so long to make this possible. Apparently we don't place much emphasis on fulfilling requests from lower level employees.

We certainly believe Angela is deserving of the new stapler. To be accurate though, it isn't exactly new. It has been in storage for over seven years and before that it was used as the community stapler for the Marketing department (actually, they probably didn't use it - they don't do anything that requires touching things).

We also share Angela's belief that she will become more efficient. The Swingline model 1725 is a fine piece of equipment. It's easyload chamber makes refilling a snap, and, it is rated for up to 25 pages. Her old stapler was only rated for ten pages. This made stapling those eleven and twelve page reports very difficult. Once she completes the required three-day operational and safety training course, she'll be clicking away with ease. She'll also find the 1725 to be ergonomically pleasing. It even has the ability to be stood on end, taking up less of her valuable empty desk space.

Please join us in congratulating Angela on her great achievement. We wish her all the success that she desires.

Token People: The Guy Who Comes to Work in the Morning Thinking About Lunch and How to Get Involved With Yours

As promised, our second installment of Token People.

You know him. Every office has one. It's 8:02am and he's hovering over your desk asking "What are we doing for lunch today?". Obviously already incorrectly assuming that you want to spend lunch hour with him because you did one time last year. He's the guy who comes to work in the morning thinking about lunch and how he can get involved with yours.

When you tell him you're "brown-baggin' it today" or that you're working through lunch, he acts as though you showed some sign of interest in letting him choose the venue for the two of you to have a sit down meal and chat. He'll respond "I was thinking ribs! We could go to Pappy's and get some of those ribs. They have a special on the honey habenero baby backs. Doesn't that sound good? Some ribs? Maybe some cole slaw and baked beans? Whatdya say?" (now he is ordering for you too)

You restrain the urge for violence and repeat "Not today. I really gotta catch up during lunch.".

He'll turn on the charm. "Come on man!", he"ll say. "Are you some kind of weirdo? Who would rather work than eat some ribs? That's crazy! Besides, I wanted to use this coupon before it expires."

Once again you respond, "Not today."

He will then resort to the classic "I'll drive!" as if that somehow increases the value of his proposition since Pappy's is downstairs in your building.

You'll refuse again and he might mutter something else about ribs as he walks away. But it isn't over! No no. He'll check with you at least three more times before noon. You'll politely refuse each time.

Come noon, just when you are settling in at your desk with your PB&J, tiny bag of Sun Chips, and chocolate pudding cup, he'll come strolling in with a Styrofoam container full of ribs, beans, and slaw. He'll slap it down on your desk, pull up a chair and say "I thought I'd keep your company since you're staying in for lunch. You're not busy are you? Is that chocolate pudding?"

He won't hear your angered response over the sound of his open-mouth chewing and the story of his weekend yardwork escapades already in progress. Bits of food will escape his mouth while he talks and find their way onto your paperwork and keyboard. The funnier he thinks his story is, the larger the bits become. Once he gets to the part where he accidentally caught the rose bush with the weed eater you might expect to find a couple of gently-used rib bones sailing your direction. As if that's not enough to keep the experience firmly etched in your memory, later, when you look in the mirror, you'll get another reminder...one lone perfectly intact baked bean sitting proudly upon your chin.

Gotta go vomit now.

How Do You Fix Bullet Holes in a 1982 Buick Regal?

You don't. You leave them there. They just add character. As if the 1982 Buick Regal needs any more character.

These things are undisputed classics (I guess this is why there is some guy from a barbershop quartet wrestling with a giant paperclip in the picture). That V6 was just enough to get you in trouble but a big block chevy would fit right in there if you felt the need (no idea if that is accurate). Pin striping and chrome accents....oh yeah! Throw a set of white walls on simulated-spoke wheels and you got yourself a machine that tells the world "All class, all the time". Such a versatile vehicle. They come out of the box ready for business but can easily be "muscled up" or tricked out, and at this point in 2012, its hard to find a stock unit.

Some people point to the Monte Carlo as the quintessential badass of the early 80s era batch of sedans but those people usually turn out to be complete fools. Those cars are grocery-getters. Others say they'd prefer to be "livin' the dream in a Cutlass Supreme". They are wild-eyed idiots. The Regal is where its at. Although you slide a set of 22s under the Cutlass, black out the windows, maybe some neon ground lighting, and several thousand dollars in amps and woofers in there, you got something going.

If I catch anyone putting those fake bullet-hole stickers on any of these machines I will call the cops. Those are for child-abduction vans. Its easy enough to get the real thing if you know where to go in your Regal.

I know some of our staff are into the classics and prefer the late 60s muscle cars but why? What are gonna do with it? Park it in the driveway and wax it every weekend? Consider something you'll actually use that will turn heads, not because of the ridiculous hood scoop and thunderous rumble, but because they expect to find a raging douche-bag behind the wheel. That's what you'll get in a nicely-equipped 1982 Buick Regal riddled with bullet holes. As a perk, we provide just such a vehicle for select members of our sales team.

Happy 30th birthday 82 Regal!

Greatness Explained: Top Five Facebook Posts That No One Likes

I'm thinking maybe some people just don't get it (by "it", I mean "us").  The team here at Crock has generated some important, meaningful, and thought-provoking material in the form of our facebook status updates but our many many tens of followers couldn't seem to give a proverbial rats ass.  Let's run through some and see if there is a reason for your piss-poor behavior and lack of respect for some of the greatest facebookery in existence, or if you just can't pay attention to anything that happens before noon.


April 24th, 2012:
Clear some space in the copy room. Your new all-in-one printer/copier/scanner/fax is on the way.

You see, this one is clearly a joke.  The massive object in the picture is not an office machine at all but rather an antique toaster-oven like grandma used to use.  It is too! 

 
April 12th, 2012:
It'd be pretty cool to have an exoskeleton. Yeah right! Like that'll ever happen.



This one is just an observation.  A very true one at that.  Who wouldn't want an exoskeleton?  An unimaginative sack of boring, that's who!  Someone should invent some kind of hard, possibly metallic, suit that a person could wear that would protect them in the event that they accidentally get into a sword fight or worse, a jousting match.  But, as the last half of the post suggests, we're doubtful that we will see such technology, at least not in our lifetime.

March 13th, 2012:
According to the accounting department our greatest company asset is our boobs.



Simply stating a fact.  And it's worthy of a least one "like".  I know that Phil Teatherballs likes anything having to do with boobs.  Where are you Phil?

April 29th, 2012:
If you rode a woolly mammoth to work you would only have to leave home about 3,712 years early, depending on traffic.

Who would do that?  Who would actually ride a woolly mammoth to work?  Ha ha.  That's freakin' funny to think about.  But wait, why would it take so long to get there if you did ride one to work?  Is it because they are slow?  Yes.  They're slow.  That's it.  No.  IT'S BECAUSE THEY ARE EXTINCT!  You would have had to saddle up and start riding in somewhere around 1700 B.C. because that's when they were last know to exist.

May 4th, 2012:
ATTACK!

This one would seem to be self-explanatory.  When the command is given, you do it.  Plain and simple.  So unless all of you did so and were were subsequently defeated, someone should have returned to facebook to like the post.  That's today's digital version of spiking the ball.  To the victor go the spoils and the online gloating rights.  If you did not obey the command, there is still time.  Go forth and attack as commanded.
 
The above are just some examples of the powerful material that is being generated on the Crock Inc. facebook page.  I'm sure the fact that no one "likes" these posts is some sort of error.  Facebook is probably blocking likes for fear the snowball effect would distract from something else truly meaningful (they want us to buy an ad).  If not, and no one actually likes these posts, then fine.  We don't need anyone to proclaim their greatness.  Greatness does not need to be explained.  Then what is the purpose of this blog post?  Well, this particular greatness maybe needed a tiny bit of explaining.

Suddenly, an Olfactory Services Division

Starting exactly now, we have an Olfactory Services Division. This division will primarily focus on business consulting, but with a highly-specialized area of expertise: smell. Smelling services is an emerging market and we're on the leading edge (nothing in this statement has been verified).

Our skilled olfactory experts will visit your business and conduct a thorough smell test of the entire facility. Once the testing is complete, a detailed report will be provided. Well, maybe not all that detailed. In the base package we just tell you if it smells good or not good. You may upgrade your service to include more detail, like a "best guess" at the particular odor. The guess is based, not on scientific data, but on the memory of things we've smelled before. Here's how it works: if testing determines that your office smells good, the report might include that it smells like popcorn. If it testing returns a "not good" result, it may include that it smells like a homeless man on a hot day. Of course the good/not good results are completely subjective and based solely upon the opinion of the olfactory expert. If you hate popcorn, you may disagree with the result in the first example. Sorry, no refunds....and you're just silly.

Our third level of service is where the consulting comes in. In a case where you business smells not good, we will suggest ways to improve the smell. In most cases, simply removing the source of the not good smell won't help (there are several reasons for this but they are too technical for this audience). Which brings us to what we believe is the most valuable benefit we provide in that we will recommend a complimentary smell that may be introduced to offset the negative or off-putting scent. So if your business smells like stale KFC, our experts may suggest adding a touch of bourbon. Or if it smells like sour milk, we might suggest offsetting it with Eau De Sauerkraut.

Here's a random something you can't answer; What smell is most easily eliminated by lighting an UNscented candle?

Answer: natural gas.

In the future, we hope to be able to formulate and supply our clients with odoriferous cocktails that counteract any malodorous particles and turn most any "not good" result to "good". We're going to call it "air freshener".

For now though, our service packages come in the following levels; Bronze, silver, and three. They start out at as little as ten forty double eleven five teen dollar. Easy and affordable.

Don't call right now though because no one who works here knows we're offering this yet.

Armageddon Hawk Sighting Spells Trouble

This harbinger of the apocalypse has been sighted flitting from tree to tree in neighborhoods like yours. Most recently, Fern Mckinney of Traverse City, Michigan reported seeing this creature on her fence. She somehow had the presence of mind to snap a quick photograph, knowing all the while that her subject was here to end civilization. When asked how she felt at that moment, Fern told us; "At first I wasn't sure if I was seeing what I thought I saw. I took a closer look and realized...yeah....that's the yellow finch."

She added, "A strange calm came over me when I realized that everyone is going to die, not just me. After that I was able to view it as a great photo opportunity."

The yellow finch, more commonly known as the Armageddon Hawk, is said to visit human civilization only to end it. The hideous and terrifying creature ushers in the End of Days, this according to most ancient scholars whose civilizations have already been destroyed, presumably by the yellow finch. These teachings of old provide us with a warning, to be vigilant and watchful lest we are complacent and unwary of it's presence among us and have not prepared for our final days.

What can you do about it? Not much. Just be wary. Perhaps build large and intricate stone structures that will impress future civilizations? Or maybe now is the time to get aggressive with your 401K?

One Little Radioactive Spill and Everyone Goes All Erin Brockovich

The uproar over the little mishap is not helpful and it is unfounded. Not the mishap, but the uproar. Well, mishaps aren't helpful either, thus the name. It suggests that something happened that wasn't supposed to happen, or, something happened in a way that it was not supposed to. Hell, I'm off track. Anyway....

On Monday, Crock headquarters was notified of an incident that occurred at our distribution hub in Funkhouser, Illinois. Without going into details, the incident resulted in the spilling of a small amount of liquefied Uranium 238. Does that sound scary to you? Well let me ask this; are you a uranium expert? Are you a nuclear physicist?

If the answer is "no" to these questions, we respectfully ask that you shut your mouth about it. As stated in our press release, "the general public was never in any real danger." What part of that statement is unclear?

Although you probably have the ability to understand the statement and the common sense to accept it, it appears that many people do not. They're all in a tissy about radiation poisoning (whatever that is), and so-called "contamination" of the air and water supply in the greater Funkhouser metropolitan area. They say the risk of certain cancers, birth defects, and other adverse health impacts will linger for years to come.

First of all, uranium 238 is an isotope found in NATURALLY OCCURRING uranium ore. It only has a half-life of about 4.5 billion years in its natural state. This was liquefied, so it's half-life is less than 4.2 billion years. We have "safend" this stuff by 300 million years.

Secondly, we only spilled eight gallons of the stuff. That's not even enough to power The State of California for 27,000 years. We spill more than that on purpose during retooling.

Finally, the stuff was completely cleaned up in five minutes. Our trained staff, namely Herb Petersondalehofferdorf, former sanitation engineer and bowling team captain at the Funkhouser facility (may he rest in peace), followed emergency protocol and immediately grabbed a roll of paper towels. Not just any paper towels. We use Bounty, the quicker picker upper. When Herb realized that one roll wasn't going to cut it, he ran to grab a second roll. When he got back to the site of the spill, he found that some nice foreign men in weird full-body costumes had rolled up their sleeves (figuratively) and were actively gathering the spill into nice metallic containers.

Herb died a few minutes later of natural causes, but before he did he told us not to worry. He said the cleanup was complete and the material was being shipped to Iran so it wouldn't be a problem for us any longer.

I don't know about you, but I feel more comfortable believing the last words of a dying janitor than all these mad scientists and witch doctors. The other six employees at the plant didn't even get sick*, why should an entire metro area be worried?

There is nothing here to worry about. The problem has been contained.....in nice metallic containers....and shipped to Iran. I think they use it for fertilizer or hot sauce or something. Some damn fine salsa, I'm told.
*As of this post, none of the employees of the FDH have reported to work since the incident and their families have been calling wondering if they are working late....since Monday.
On a side note: we are now hiring at our Funkhouser Distribution Hub. All positions. Flexible schedule, competitive pay, excellent benefits package including health insurance, 401-K, danger, mystery, and intrigue. Interested individuals should post questions and qualifications on our facebook wall.

Token People: The Space Invader

Blanket statement Alert: In any given work environment where at least ten people must interact, there will be one person who can easily be identified as a "token" something-or-other.

To illustrate what this means, think of any recent sitcom you've ever watched. If it is oriented around a white family or group of friends you'll find the token black guy (except Friends and Seinfeld for some reason). If oriented around a black people, there will be a token white dude. Two Guys and a Pizza Place needed a token girl. Most of the time, every character is a token something-or-other. There's a fat guy, a moron, a gay guy, a hot chick, a perpetual bachelor, a refrigerator, a goat, and a murder weapon. Don't think about it, just accept it.

A comedian (Emo Philips I think) once joked, "Mother always said every time I get on a bus, there's a werdo on it. I could never find him."

Your workplace is likely filled with token people too. There is one particular token person I would like to discuss because they are a danger to others, themselves, and the earth as a whole. Look around. You should be able to find one of these. If you can't, it's probably you.

The token space invader. There he is! Always getting up in your grill, leaning over you at your desk, standing way too close, talking directly into your mouth like its a microphone and he is delivering an important public service announcement. As an added bonus, this is usually the guy who's breath is laced with a pungent tribute to his recent consumption of coffee and something similar to a partially decomposed bologna and cabbage sandwich (quick reader pole: If I included mayonnaise here would it be too much?). And, for the token twist of irony, this guy is equipped with an unquenchable thirst for...an inextinguishable burning desire for....an unfulfillable need for....conversation. He'll talk about anything at any time. If you walk away, he will follow. If you say your busy, he'll continue his story anyway, after letting you know it'll be a "quick one". If you take a phone call, even if it sounds very important, he'll wait. If you walk to your car, start it, and drive away he'll hang on to the door handle and drag beside you down the street, talking all the while.

Despite the fact that everyone is uncomfortable, no one takes action to stop it. Sure, they exchange their unpleasant run-ins and space invader stories, each trying to out-creepy the other. Once in a while someone will offer him an Altoid or a case of tic tacs. But these don't solve the problem. Neither does explaining the problem to him. You could look him in the eye and tell him "Back away! This is my personal space and I don't want you polluting it!" and he would think of it as an invitation to tell you about the hilarious antics of a cat he found in a dumpster. Management knows of the problem, but they ignore it saying "He means well.". I guess that's manager-speak for "He's cheap and he has dirt on the owner."

This guy must be stopped! Danger follows him and his ilk. (I've always wanted to work the work "ilk" into a sentence. Done!). My aunt once tried to escape a space invader but was disoriented by the noxious breath and fell into an open manhole where she was swept away by a river of raw sewage. We never saw her again*. That makes this fight personal to me. That is why I hope you will join me in battling this office menace.

It won't be easy. After all, this is a token space invader. You are required to have one on the payroll. When you eliminate one, another will take his place. That's why you can't just kill him. You have to make him use all of his vacation days right away each year. Send him invitations to timeshare presentation out of town. Most of them offer free stuff like toasters, airline miles, calculators, coffee, and bologna/ cabbage sandwiches. Free stuff attracts these types.

Once he has used his vacation, you must go for the sick days. A little salmonella in the coffee cup should do the trick. Careful now! Not too much. He just needs to feel bad enough to stay home a few days. If it doesn't work, try E.Coli. Studies have shown that some space invaders build immunity to certain strains of bacteria, viruses, and verbal insults.
Once he has used his sick days though, he will come to work faithfully if he is even slightly mobile. Offer him an emergency double knee replacement. Don't pay for the surgery, just make it necessary. Use your imagination. Tonya Harding isn't busy these days. Or, for a less illegal option, sometimes these people will respond if you send them calendar invitations to work events outside of the office, especially if they think you will be there. Make up as many as you can until he finally figures out that you won't really be there. That's when you get a coworker to pick up where you left off.

Using these ideas and some of your own, you might be able to get somewhere between 12 and 22 weeks of token-space-invader-free existence per year. And that's better than 52 straight weeks of face-melting one way conversations and being trapped between the toilet and the bathroom door while learning why America should adopt the metric system. It will also drastically reduce your chances of being washed away by sewer rapids.

Thanks for reading and taking this seriously. Next time we discuss token people: the guy who comes to work in the morning thinking about lunch and how to get involved with yours.

*A note about my Aunt: I say that "we" never saw her again but actually my uncle did see her once more. Eleven days after she was washed away by sewer rapids, she arrived on her front porch, dirty, smelly, battered, incoherently babbling. My uncle stood her up, turned her around, and pointed her down the street. She shuffled off into the sunset....and that is the point from which none of us ever saw her again.

The Fear of Fear Itself

How about a little bravery for the weekend?

No one likes fear anymore, do they? But disliking it and being afraid of it are two different things. No one likes pain either but we aren't afraid of it. We are however, afraid that pain will hurt. Many of us fear embarrassment because we're afraid it will be embarrassing. We're scared of heights, not because we fear falling but because we're afraid that the ground is too far away to make a safe landing. We're afraid of clowns.  But why are we afraid of fear?  And should we be?

The first step in figuring out why you fear fear is to admit that you do. Though we fight it and try to hide it, even the bravest among us must confess to feeling at least a tinge, a little tickle of fear when we are afraid. If pain or embarrassment or heights don't "get your tremble on", clowns will. So go ahead, admit that you fear fear. Chicken! Fraidee-cat!

Now, the second step in learning why you are such a coward when you are not courageous is to figure out the real reason for your yellowness. I contend that it's usually an effect that you fear rather than a cause. You don't fear bears, you are afraid of being dismembered and eaten by bears....and who wouldn't be afraid of that right? Pain hurts. Falling equals pain which equals hurt and possibly death. Oh, there's a biggie that I almost forgot: death. That's one of the more common effects that stimulate fear reactions. I'd say it's at least in the top 100, maybe even top 50.

With so much scariness, what's wrong with a little fear? Nothing! Embrace the fear!  Stop being afraid to be afraid. Sometimes fear is the only thing between you and an unimaginably violent mutilation.  If you're going to fear fear, you might as well fear terror as well. And while your at it, go ahead and fear horror, fright, spooky, and creepy too (and clowns). Nah. Don't do that. It's perfectly acceptable to fear having an arm ripped off by a copy-machine, just don't fear the copy machine. It's natural to fear having your toenails pried off by a tribe of spider-monkeys on unicycles that invade your home right in the middle of wheel of fortune, just don't be afraid of spider-monkeys (but do be suspicious of them, especially the unicyclers because they usually work for clowns). It's OK to be afraid of death because it can kill you. That's something that fear has no ability to do. Oh wait. Never mind. It IS possible to be scared to death. Forget what I said. If you need me, I'll be hiding under a desk so the fear doesn't get me....or the clown.

What To Do When Your Face Swells Shut

This may seem like an oddly random subject and I'm sure you are wondering why I am bringing it up right now. I won't share, but suffice it to say there is a very pertinent and coherent reason for the timing and subject matter which I have just bestowed upon you. I realize that you weren't expecting such meaningful material and you are now undeniably hooked to this post that you'd rather be buried in fire ants than to abort the reading mission before the objective of finding out what to do when your face swells shut. This is really an issue of survival. Hopefully you've set aside the necessary time.

Before we get into the meat of this, lets start by defining the problem. Although the underlying cause should certainly be of concern to you if your face swells shut, it is not our focus at this time. To assure we are all on the same page;

"Face" is that portion of the front of your head where your eyes, nose, and mouth are located. If you have a moustache, beard, glasses, or a silent expression of hatred for your fellow man, they would also be found here.

"Swells" refers to an abnormal enlargement or bloating. Many times this is a sudden onset that may occur in the event of exposure to an allergen or a good beating. In some cases the swelling may occur over time, perhaps as a result of some cruel disease or excessive consumption of bacon milkshakes.

And "shut" means "closed". As it relates to the face, specifically the involuntary closing of the eyes, nose, and mouth due to the aforementioned swelling.

Now, let's discuss the dos and don'ts.

First, let me share with you a few things NOT to do when your face swells shut. Here is a short list that I threw together. I'm just guessing here. My face has never swelled or swollen shut.

• Please DO NOT come to work. You will scare people. Plus, your productivity will surely suffer due to the shutness of your face.
• I assume you would not want to drive a vehicle. At least not very fast.
• Guys(and extremely hairy women), do NOT shave when your face is swollen shut! I mean it. Don't do it!
• Don't worry about the dogs you hear barking at you. They are not equipped with a sense of compassion.
• Most importantly; Do not panic!

I'm sure there are more don'ts but those are the obvious ones. Now, what should you do?

• PANIC! After all you are trapped in a private hell and held against your will by your own face.
• Breathe. Oh wait, you can't. Since most humans breathe through the mouth, the nose, a combination of the two, or alternation between them, and they are both shut by the definition presented earlier. Unless you are lucky enough to have a blowhole, you should probably try to get a straw shoved between your lips and/or in a nostril or two. This may allow you to process enough oxygen to avoid suffocation temporarily.
• Turn off the lights. You can't see anyway. No point in wasting energy and just because you have only moments to live doesn't mean you need to forget about the environment.
• Seek medical attention. Lets face it, the problem is not likely to reverse itself and is probably life-threatening. Grandma may have a home remedy but she's never around when you really need her now is she? Since we've already eliminated driving as a possibility you'll need to call 911. I know, using a phone is difficult. Just feel your way around the keypad and do you best. If you get someone who asks you "what listing?" you've hit a 4 instead of a 9. Try again. Once connected to a dispatcher, help is on the way. Of course you can't talk to explain anything but they can track your location by the caller ID info or cellular network. They will realize that it is an emergency by the fact that you called 911. No one calls them to make idle chit-chat. They will also pick up on the urgency in your muffled but horrifying internal screams. Side note: they can't hear your arms flailing around wildly so stop. That's just another energy-saving tip.

Hopefully you will remember this advice when your face swells shut and somehow manage to follow it. For those of you who have been through it, feel free to share your experiences.

Six Ways to Make Your Day Unsuck

We've all been there. Those days when the weight of the world comes crashing down. Or maybe it just comes down in a slow drip, like water torture. First, work sucks. You realize you are completely surrounded by incompetence. Every cubicle you look in you find a well-dressed moron who probably gets paid more than you. Your boss probably asked you to do some ridiculous time-wasting task that doesn't fit your job description, like taking inventory of packing-peanuts when everyone knows that Rhonda Bluegums is supposed to handle that since her job title is Packing-Peanut and Bubble Wrap Inventory Manager.

Then, it starts to creep into your personal life. You spill your freshly poured java on what then becomes your freshly scalded crotch and your freshly stained pants. Of course, you didn't bring another pair of pants! Who carries extra pants around? So, instead of going directly to the bar after work, you try to run into a clothing store and buy some new pants but they only have the stupid kind with pleats. You decide pleats are better than a massive crotch stain so you buy them. You get a speeding ticket on the way to the bar, you have a dozen too many, puke on three of the four bikers in the room, get beat to a pulp, put in a cab, and you wake up in a basement of some house where there is an excessive amount of mason jars with some type of organic and permanently preserved materials in them.....and your stupid pleated pants are nowhere to be found.

How do you stay positive when this is how life treats you? Here are six things that will help your day go better and possibly help others in the process:

1) Sing your thoughts. That's right. Whatever you are thinking, sing it....out loud. But pick a cheery tune. Let's say your thinking "Rob Dollman is a horses ass". You could set it to the tune of the Green Acres theme. It'll be contagious and before you know it, the whole office will be singing it. Maybe even Rob Dollman.

2) Flip off things. Inanimate objects. Even if they did nothing to you. Don't let anyone see you do it. This one is just for you. It'll make you feel better so the next four suggestions will have better results.

3) Double Negatives. When something negative happens (and it always does), double down on it. Let's say your computer crashed and you lost half-a-day's work. Go tell your boss that you were almost done with the useless report he asked for when your computer exploded, sent shrapnel though the office killing Daryl Colby and setting the office ablaze. Once he finds out the truth, it won't seem so bad.

4) Bring up the past. People love it when you remind them of their mistakes. If you mess up and Bob from accounts payable gives you shit just remind him of the time he forgot to take his inflatable "friend" out of his car before pulling in the garage. Remind him that you still have the surveillance video. It will lighten the mood quickly.

5) All the cool kids are doing it. If you see a coworker struggling, struggle worse. For example; JoAnn is looking in the top drawer of a filing cabinet but pulls it out too far and the cabinet tips over with a crash. Make her feel better by charging the bank of filing cabinets in a dead sprint and smashing into them. Knock them all down. If they won't fall, rip out the drawers and throw them around the place. Make a huge mess. Encourage others to join the rampage. JoAnn will feel better. Make her clean it up. She started it.

6) Scape-elephant. Place a statue of an animal, it doesn't matter what animal, on your desk. For the purposes of this purpose, let's use a statue of an elephant. Now, every time something bad happens, blame the elephant. The shipment didn't go out on time? The elephant fell asleep. Payroll didn't go out? The elephant forgot. Admonish the elephant. Scold it publicly. Really dive in. Yell and scream. Threaten it. Take away television privileges, make it stand in a corner, stab it repeatedly with a letter opener, throw it in the trash and light it on fire. We're not sure how this helps, but it does.

Technologicalizationism

Just a quick rundown of a few Crock Awesomificating Technologies. One is new, one is old, and one is still conceptual in nature.

UUR- Undetectable Universal Reset-
In production since 2002, this impressive (albeit useless) technology is usually implemented by a physical button-press type of manuever but could be activated by a mouse click or screen tap as well. When activated, the UUR resets the entire universe and restarts it at the precise moment of the activation, making it seem as though nothing happened. Remarkably, the memory of the activation remains, thus causing the unknowing user to experience bewilderment, confusion and occassionally, anger. It sometimes even causes the "client" to attempt the action again and again. The unhelpful nature of this technology and the lack of any practical or worthwhile application for it does not diminish it's grandeur. It did, afterall, take us two non-consecutive hours to think of. So, if you've ever pressed a button, clicked a link, or tapped an icon and nothing happened, that's what we want you to believe. In reality, you might have been UUR'd. You'll think of us next time the batteries are dead in your remote control.

Coin-toss Manipulator (CoMan)-
This is just what the name suggests. It's small profile is a key selling feature in that it is often important for implementation to be discrete. Weighing in at a mere 43 pounds the device kinda fits into a large suitcase or may be mostly concealed underneath a sombrero of exaggerated proportions. (we plan an update sometime next year that will eliminate the 96 decible buzzing sound). Use of this technology in clinical trial coin-tosses provided a 50.02% predictability of outcomes factor. In 10,000 tosses, where the CoMan was set to "heads" the tossing resulted in 5002 heads, 4997 tails, and one time the coin landed upright in a plate of potato salad placed on the floor to simulate real-world conditions. Pretty impressive. You may have noticed this technology in action at the Super Bowl this year. Incidentally, our researchers are now studying the coin-atrraction properties of potato salad.

Marsupial Detector (concept)-
Used to determine if there are any marsupials in the immediate vicinity. Critics are not thrilled with this one. They say things like "this one should be called the UUT- Utterly Unnecessary Technology", or "Why?.....Why?". But we don't care. We think it will come in handy if you are allergic to kangaroos, or if you need to find the nearest wallabee, or better yet, if you want to find out if someone is just playing possum or is actually an oppossum. We know. Amazing right? Our team is working diligently on this one. It has been rumored that a group of blind one-armed Gabonese pigmy scientists is developing a similar product but we believe we are in the drivers seat on this one.

Click HERE and nothing will happen. Or will it?

In a World Ruled By Squirrels, Your Math Skills Are Worthless

There is nothing more frustrating than having to apply mathematics in daily life. Math is like an idiot; you can't argue with it. It's witchcraft. Why are so many artists, journalists, athletes, truck drivers, homeless people, and IRS agents around here? Because they all hate math and try to avoid it at all costs. We reserve the jobs like cashier, bartender, server, and geothermal engineer for the younger folk, mostly students or those who recently retired from a career as a student. These careers need math to function so they are best suited for those who have freshly learned the subject. It isn't like riding a bike. Once we leave school, we forget how to do it. Within a year of leaving school, we have put enough distance between ourselves and math that we will hand some greasy punk a $20 bill through the drive-up window and when he returns our change, we just stuff it in our fanny packs without question because we no longer have the ability to refute the mathematical prowess of a below average high school student.

A train leaves here and another leaves there and they each go some differing amount of fast, assuming they are on the same track, they will collide. If I hadn't stripped out all of the numbers, this would be a math problem to figure out when and where they might crash. Even without all the data, I can eliminate this problem. Change the train schedule! Plain ole logic. Why make a problem where there isn't one? Why complicate the matter by mathematicalizing it?

Here's a real problem: Squirrels! They're every-friggin'-where! These things are overgrown mice with ninja-like capabilities. Math cannot stop them. They'll chew your house to shreds in an evening. They steal babies and scare old ladies. They've organized militia to overthrow sitting mayors in seventeen US cities already. They're breeding a master race! It ain't good people. Wake up! Put down your scientific calculators and stop trying to solve for x! We need to work on the squirrel issue! We're being overrun. They're eating into our bottom line (I think. Haven't really calculated it because I forgot how). Just look at this list. It will damage you for life, but be sure to like us in facebook(see the button to the right- no math involved). That's important.

Reading Between the Lies

I love reading. In fact, the main reason I am writing this is so I can read it later. I will read just about anything. When I see words, I usually read them (unless there are too many of them or they are written in another language like British or Canadian).

In these times where any horses-ass can write a blog and so-called news arrives quite literally out of thin air into our hands, there is no shortage of material.

I've noticed though, that just because someone writes and it gets published, doesn't make it true. It also doesn't make the author an expert know-it-all. When it comes to news, advice, motivation, business, etc., we hope that people write about things they know. Sadly, this is not the case. I'm proof of that.

It is my opinion that everyone who writes in these categories, or any category, is lying. Actually, that's a fact. Everyone who ever wrote anything is either lying or an idiot, with few exceptions (the bible and Rich Dad, Poor Dad are the only two).

Yes, even your Grandma's grocery list she lovingly crafted over the course of a week! Everything! Every facebook post is false. Every tweet is a big fat lie. Every blog post is a long-winded inaccurate deceitful malicious ploy or a pile of worthless blubber from an evil stupid genius. I don't need to give examples. These are blanket statements so you can find your own. Stop reading that garbage! Well, don't stop. Just read with a grain of salt.

If you find yourself thinking that I have a good point right about now, please shove your own fist rapidly into your face, then repeat. I'm writing, therefore I am lying!

Writers of fictional material lie all the time, totally on purpose, and they don't even try to hide it. So that's cool. I can live with that. I wonder who writes the little tags on tee shirts? Those things piss me off. Always rubbing up against my neck and stuff. I've never read them though. I'm sure they are full of diabolical falsehoods like; "wash with like colors", or, "tumble dry low". What does that even mean? I have noticed that some of the tags have replaced words with symbols. I guess they want to get through to me since they know that I know the written words are lies.

Whatever. That should be enough to put me to sleep later when I read this.

Goals Suck.

I know a lot of people in the business world make a big friggin' deal about setting goals. The truth is, goals will only get you so far. They might win the soccer game, but they are, like, totally overrated in business.

Sure, companies and entrepenuers generally swear by the damn things, from the mildly successful to the wildly filthy stinkin' rich. And sure, those who fail to set goals and make plans are usually those who find themselves flipping burgers and wishing they hadn't used that line of funding for a yacht and plastic surgery. Coincidence? Yes. I have a point and I will eventually get to it. First though, I will ramble on for a few sentences.

I've always tried to instill a sense of purpose into the corporate culture here at Crock. (cough, choke, vomit) I can't even continue that line of BS. Let's try this:

A man wakes up to find himself in the middle of the desert. All he can see is sand to the horizon in all directions. And then he died.

Or.....maybe he decided that he wanted to get out of the current situation. But how? He had very little choice. He picked a direction and started walking. As he walked, the terrain slowly started to change. The sand became dotted here and there with cacti and scrub brush(not the kind you use to clean the toilet but the gnarled looking bushy things usually found in western movies). He continued to walk. Eventually, the desert gave way to grassy plains, then rolling hills and scattered trees, a stream with fresh clean water, a forest, and finally an all-inclusive beach resort with scantily-clad women who served him cocktails and assorted seafood delicacies happily ever after. The end.

How does this story apply to you? It doesn't. But here's how it applies to me:

See, the guy in the story took himself from a dried up pile of bones in the middle of the desert to a very happy man, and he did it with no clear goal, no advice from experts, and no multi-phase plan of action. He could have easily set some lame goal of "find water", or "get rescued", but he didn't. He set in motion a one-step plan: go "that way". You could argue that he had a goal but you would lose the argument. He just set his sights on the horizon and walked. The horizon is not a goal or a destination because as you move towards it, it moves away. No one has ever gone to the horizon where they built a house, raised a family, purchased groceries online, and formed a grammy-winning rap/metal quartet. That never happened and never will. The man in the story set his sights on something unattainable and wound up with something much better. I'll take the women serving me stuff on the beach every time if my other choice is "the horizon". I don't care if you throw in a "find water" an two "get rescued"s. (the choice might get tougher if you offered up a basket of bacon).

And....The point! Don't set goals. If you do, you will settle for meeting them. Pick a direction and go "that way". It'll take you places you never dreamed.

I have no need for investors in business, or a boss, but you do. They love it when they ask you for a business plan and you tell them "we are aiming for the horizon". A sure promotion will follow when your boss asks you where you are headed and you say in bold confidence (using your best cartoon superhero voice without regard for your boss' age or gender), "Step aside old woman! I'm going that way!"

Of course I realize that some of you will feel naked without goals so here are a few that would be acceptable:

- capture a unicorn
- find a word that rhymes with purple
- become Spiderman
- successfully and correctly complete your own tax return
- lead a horse to water and make his ungrateful ass drink it

You get it by now I hope. But before taking advice from me, keep in mind that I sometimes leave the house with less than a full set of shoes and I drink early and often.

Oh! And for the record, as far as I'm concerned the basket of bacon would win every time. It's much more attainable. In fact, here comes one now! Gotta go!

Pondering the Pros and Cons of an Underground Society

I wonder if there will be cell service when we all live and work in the center of the earth? I am anticipating that there will a hefty cooling bill, but I assume we will be able to use geo-thermal. I'm guessing solar power won't help much. Oh well, at least there won't be mosquitos. Or will there? It is the center of the earth. (I feel your pain faithful employees!) Who would have thought your job could get any closer to hell? It might even be IN actual hell. If so, then at least we can answer the question about cell serivce. It'll be T-Mobile, the official wireless company of hell.