Wednesday, October 30, 2002


 

I received this today from one of my Chinese students . . . Hey, If we can do it in the states, why can't they, huh?


9:15 PM . . .



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Realistic Internet Simulator.

It needs more flash animation and a Hotmail.com background and it'd be perfect.


11:58 AM . . .



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I saw 24 last night, and I hate to say it, but I'm hooked. I'll be watching the rest of the season. It's no Sopranos; no Six Feet Under . . . but then again, it's not on Sunday nights, so I'll be fine.


11:57 AM . . .



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Friday, October 25, 2002


 

Let me tell you how much Southwest Airlines rocks. I ordered a flight a couple weeks ago, and now I don't want to fly one leg of the flight. The fare was an internet special, so it was pretty inexpensive. I figure that I could get refunded the fare, but that isn't the case. However, I can get it applied to future Southwest flights, and I fly a lot, so I'm OK with this idea. So I ask her how I can make sure I get the money applied to the next flight, and she says, "Just don't show up."

Huh? I can just not show up and still keep my money? What kind of sweet deal is this? I would just like to say that thus far, Southwest has exceeded all of my customer service requests. One time I wrote and asked them if they were an airline that reimbursed people for expenses incurred for delayed flights, since I had incurred said expenses. They promptly responded to my letter, and said that their business model as a low-fare airline couldn't support such costs, but they'd give me a travel voucher to be used on any Souhwest flight. Of course, the travel voucher was only $25 and all flights are much more than that, so you could see that as a ploy for me to buy a flight on their airline. Like I said before, I fly a lot, so that voucher was almost as good as cash.

So fly Southwest Airlines. I'm not getting paid to say this; just fly Southwest . . .and buy their stock. They're a great company.


11:46 AM . . .



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Thursday, October 24, 2002


 

I pay about $2.50 a week to work out in the gym in my office's basement. The place is a lot nicer then it sounds, but that's beside the point. So there's this new girl that works downstairs in the gym; she's about my age and she's real cute. I have been talking to her over the last few days, and I think I'm making some progress, and was thinking about asking her to accompany to the tre chic Joe's Crab Shack for some drinks some time this week.

On Tuesday and Thursday, we have the ab workout class at 6:30. We get a couple people in there, and Cute Girl is teaching the class. The radio isn't working for some odd reason, so she brings in a tape and fiddles with the tape player a while trying to get it to work, ultimately unsuccessful, and we go on without music.

A few co-workers and I are getting into the ab workout. Crunches, leg lifts . . . the entire workout usually lasts about fifteen minutes and it's an ass kicker. Now let me tell you something else relating to ass. When you let one go in an acoustically perfect aerobics room with three other people and no music playing, you can pretty much figure out who ripped it.

That's right; it was me. Now my face was about as red as it gets from the exertion from the workout, but I swear it became more red when a second after the fact (or some other four letter "F" word) the cute girl said, "Boy. Sure would be nice to have some music in here . . ."


9:04 PM . . .



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Monday, October 21, 2002


 

How stupid are the cops down here in our nation's capital? Seriously, these guys are a bunch of halfwits. Do they really think the sniper is going to just walk into their arms on the steps of the Montgomery County Courthouse? The sniper called them up and said something over the phone line he provided, and now the police are asking the guy to call back. "Please mister sniper, we didn't get the phone trace through the first time, please call back so we can triangulate your signal and not mistakenly assault two guys down in Richmond. We apologize for being such pathetic excuses for detectives, but we can't help it, we're just horrible. You know how bad the crime is in DC; I mean come on. Imagine how bad we are. We're the slobs that weren't good enough to cut it in the city. Drop us another couple tarot cards . . . preferably with addresses on them . . . and a picture. Now you know why you never have to wonder why you're not watching CSI: Rockville on Tuesday night."


7:28 PM . . .



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Thursday, October 17, 2002


 

An employee and I who are in the same position were talking about our transition from GE GXS to GXS and what we were going to do. We're in the unique position of being able to choose to stay with GXS here in Maryland or go to a different GE business. Here's one of our conversations:

Meaghan: What if you are a disgruntled FMP? what should they do?
Me: HA! I don't know, but I wouldn't go so far as to say that I'm disgruntled.
Meaghan: What are you?
Me: Uhhh . . . I don't know.
Meaghan: Well, you'll be disgruntled in February when Mike is like, sorry! All the FMP positions have been filled.
Meaghan: Welcome to Newco!
Meaghan: Oh, and by the way; you're laid off.
Meaghan: With no severance pay
Me: Oh God.
Meaghan: Could please send your signing bonus back?
Me: HA! "Good Luck in your future endeavors . . ."
Meaghan: Yeah, and watch out for the sniper!


1:40 PM . . .



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Wednesday, October 16, 2002


 

Catalog.com SUCKS. They are the reason my site was down for the last three days. Last January, I paid for a year of service. Sunday, they shut my site down because I hadn't paid their "Club Fee." This fee was $24.95; not a big deal, but it's the principle of the thing. I'm getting my money back for this crap.


8:52 AM . . .



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Tuesday, October 15, 2002


 

The Meaning of Life.


12:07 PM . . .



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Sunday, October 13, 2002


 

I was threatened with a lawsuit. I took some posts down.


2:00 PM . . .



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Friday, October 11, 2002


 

Did you ever notice that the percentage of women you see with the big poofy bangs skyrockets when you walk into a Wal*Mart? Bangs and airbrushed Tweety Bird sweatshirts . . . espescially the gangsta tweety bird version. You know, the one where Tweety and the Tazmanian Devil are dressed up in thug wear and are girls all of the sudden?

I always thought Tweety was kind of a unisex character, but there was no doubt in my mind that the Tasmanian Devil was a dude. What is the deal with those shirts? I mean, you don't see Fuddettes in gangsta bitch attire . . . And of course Garth's comment in Wayne's World about Bugs Bunny, well, I can see that. But the Tasmanian Devil? I'm confused.


9:50 PM . . .



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I'm changing my name. I will now be referred to as Hagan. Please direct all further correspondence to Hagan@thedtrain.com. I'm serious.


9:27 PM . . .



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Showered, dressed, and checked out of my hotel in fifteen minutes flat . . . Not bad for a guy who can't remember how he got home last night. That was after turning off my alarm at 6:30 AM and hanging up on the girl who was driving me to class three times. It must have been the Courvosier. We went to Coyote Ugly last night, and after not seeing the movie, the girls there did not disappoint (is that a double negative?). A guy in the group of FMPs I was in called me out because he thought I asked a bartender when she got off.

First of all, who is the dickhead who calls a guy out when he tries to pick up a cute bartender, and second, who still uses lines like "When do you get off?" When she was the only bartender not dancing on the bar (as is common in Coyote Ugly), I asked her when it was her turn to strut her stuff. I was pretty wasted, but not wasted enough to use a line like "When do you get off?" I'm still baffled by this whole ordeal.

In class today, I was completely non-functional, and when I did attempt to participate in my group's presentation, I completely ruined it. Yesterday, our teacher, Al, listed his "hot buttons" on a PowerPoint slide and they looked something like this:

- Don't Open With a Joke
- Hard to Read Charts
- Picking Your Nose
- Mouth Breathing
- NO CLOSING SLIDE
- NO CLOSING SLIDE
- NO CLOSING SLIDE
So I took that to mean that he didn't want a closing slide when he really did; this was all when I was completely sober. The next morning, our group created a presentation and they (I say they because at the time we were making the presentation, I was a puddle) didn't really put in any semblance of a wrap-up screen. Al asked a question about our apparent lack of this oh-so-critical slide, and I responded, "Yeah, well, we were just trying to stay away from the closing slide you don't like," which came across as a joke AND enforced his belief that we didn't listen to him yesterday . . . And the group ripped me a new one because of it in our breakout session. One of the girls was merciless . . . no tact in her criticism at all, she just let me have it. I guess I set myself up in the tact department dragging my sorry ass into that room half-plastered at 7:30. Sheesh.


10:41 AM . . .



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Friday, October 04, 2002


 

I get reader mail! This is a particularly good one, although it doesn't have any links to some crazy chick's boobies in it:

I had some fish once that died a lot 'cause I got them from Walmart. Two of my fish liked to nip at each others fins and tails a lot (I later found out that you should only have one in the tank) One's name was Meajun and it got all its fins nipped. All it could do was pump with its tail and succumb to the will of the currents in the tank. Meajun spent her last few hours hurdling through the tank doing flips, spins, and dives uncontrollably until she cartwheeled into the filter tube and was sucked to death. What a graceful way to go - before the sucking.
We are all just fish with nipped off fins letting our emaciated bodies be swished about by the currents . . . the currents of LIFE. So It's all over but the sucking for us, huh?

You are poop.


8:25 AM . . .



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Wednesday, October 02, 2002


 

I visited the printer in my office about 100 times in the last two days. Of course I had to load the paper a couple of times, and the printer always told me "Load Plain Letter." Well, it got pretty boring working back to back fourteen-plus hour days, so I'd been making up songs at random when I saw the message . . . I never knew the actual lyrics to the part in "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics where Annie Lennox jumps an octave and says something like:

LOAD PLAIN LETTER . . . moooovin on. LOAD PLAIN LETTER! Moovin on.
Or Meatloaf:

I gotta know right now, would ya load my plain lettttaaahhhh?
Or the ballad from The Who:

When the printer is out I say LOAD PLAIN LETTAH! Plain lettah-plain lettah-plain let!
They're not all gold. You got a better one?


9:09 PM . . .



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Thanks for ridin' the