Missing eye patch?

It amazes me what some people find attractive. Really. We, as a society, seem to be inculcated with images of female stick figures strutting around in little more than lipstick and a faint smile wrapped around a gaunt face. Some, perhaps most, men find it enticing to watch these exoskeletons amble about, but I am not one of them. Case in point: the missing eye patch.

One of the ladies in my office wears a g-string that would be more useful as dental floss than an undergarment. I know this because she makes a point to hike the strings well above her pelvis, in a manner very similar to how an octogenarian man hikes his pants up to his nipples. This leaves the string portion of a g-string clearly visible to any casual observer. What is unclear to me, is how this would make her more comfortable? Really. I just want to ask, "excuse me, miss - I believe you are sitting on my eye patch."

Off my game

What the hell is my problem today!? I am walking around the office as if I just ingested a pint of Drano. Not thinking clearly. I just went to the coffee machine to get a fresh cup of black nectar. It is really a very simple machine. Just select the coffee, insert the pod in the machine, push the start button -- that's it... doesn't require an advanced degree to make this thing tick.

Mindlessly, I chose my coffee flavor, "double-dutch chocolate Columbian rhubarb" or something equally improbable, inserted the pod, then paced stupidly around the coffee room. Then, having realized I hadn't pushed the start button, I corrected my mistake and continued to amble around the break area. Ten seconds later my mindless wanderings are interrupted by this incessant dripping noise -- shit no coffee cup! [dash across the room] Slamming the coffee cup into the machine just in time to capture the remaining 1/2 ounce of coffee dispensed by the machine. Shit! Now I have to do it all over again, only this time it warrants more of my attention.

Mmmmm.... Pi

Yesterday was Pi day -- yes.. Pi. March 14 -- or 3.14 -- to be clear. If you missed it, don't despair, Pi is a universal constant. It is the wonderful constant which is inescapably stuck explaining the relationship between the circumference and diameter of a circle. He is an irrational number, making him boorish and an unpleasant party guest.

Some of us, I am not saying who, actually stayed up until 1:59 am (the next three digits of Pi -- 3.14159...) to see if Google was going to pay homage to this number with a Google Doodle. I wouldn't know because I fell asleep sometime before 12:30 (sigh).

This nice article by David Austin walks through a brief history of Pi. "Now get in the kitchen and bake me a Pi" -- Eric Cartman

You must be shittin me... $4300!?

As if the first 400 news reports of Eliot Spitzer's indiscretion were not enough to churn our collective stomachs, but paying $4300 for a hooker... what a dumb-ass! It is the type of nauseating stupidity that makes me break out in a cold sweat. We expect more from our politicians! This is exactly the type of wasteful spending and small-mindedness we need to stomp out. That $4300 would have made a nice down payment on a European sports car which would, in turn, fetch him lots of action. His lack of foresight and planning is an understandable disappointment to all New Yorkers.