Hey, this is the same house as below taken from a different angle. I BET THEY CAN SEE THIS HOUSE FROM SPACE!

Ho ho ho.

Monstrosity!


Earlier I was sitting there on my couch when all of the lights in my house began to flicker and dim. I called the electric company to see what was going on, and they said that the house depicted above had just turned on its Christmas decorations.

Christmas Decorations Design Element #1 - Tons of Stuff Do Not Good Decorations Make

When decorating for Christmas, let's keep it simple. Jesus and I aren't impressed with the amount of crap you manage to cram in your yard. It's the thought that counts, and a little bit of stuff goes a long way.

Pancakes

Here is the conversation that I had with my Mom this morning:

(Ring, ring)
L.F.: Oh boy.
(Answer)
L.F.: Hello.
Mom: What are you doing?
L.F.: Concentrating on minding my own business. What are you doing?
Mom: Well we’re thinking about having some pancakes. Do you want to come over?
L.F.: For pancakes?
Mom: Yeah.
L.F.: I don’t think so for I am studying for my test.
Mom: Why not?
L.F.: I am studying for my test.
Mom: Are you mad at me?
L.F.: Who would be mad at someone for offering me pancakes?
Mom: Well are you coming over or not?
L.F.: I just don't feel much like driving all the way over there.
Mom: (silence)
L.F.: Are you mad at me?
Mom: (silence)
L.F.: Well I better quit studying and come over there for some pancakes.
Mom: Okay, we’re having some pancakes at about 9:30.
L.F.: Okay. Bye.
Mom: Bye.

You’re probably thinking that I’m kind of a creep for talking to my Mom like that. First, you’re right – I am kind of a creep. Second, you’d just have to understand the nature of our relationship. We both tell it like it is, and, if nothing else, at least it’s honest. Meanwhile, I really like my Mom. Plus she makes good wheat germ pancakes. Did you know that a restaurant would charge you extra for the wheat germ? That’s what I learned from my Mom this morning.

It’s not typical that I get invited over there on a Sunday for some pancakes, but I think my Mom is currently concerned that I’m on the verge of assassinating myself. I started feeling blue Friday night at Barnes and Noble when it occurred to me that besides my family – who I talked to on Thursday – I hadn’t spoken to another human being who didn’t want to sell me some books or Chic-Fil-A Nuggets (12 pack) since I’d left work at noon on Wednesday. My anti-social behavior almost feels like a matter of necessity.

Last week was bad for my spirit. There was the lard ass on Northwest Highway who threw a half full bottle of Mountain Dew out his car window and into the trees during rush hour. Then – not two minutes afterward – was the Middle Eastern character who threw his burning cigarette at the car of the man in the next lane over. Then I got home and turned on the news in time to hear about the Plano Mom who elected to slice off her baby’s arms while humming songs about Jesus. (At the risk of opening up the largest conceivable can of worms, at least the Plano Mom’s behavior is excusable – she is just exercising her womanly right to choose what to do with her body (satire). Are her actions any more heinous just because her dependant child happens to exist outside instead of within? It all seems kind of like the same thing to me.) Anyway, these are the people in my neighborhood!

So I’ve been spending most of my time this Thanksgiving four day weekend sitting here on my couch. Yesterday I almost left the house. I was going to go over to Shreveport in order to test a theory I have about how to beat video poker. But – get this – my Mom forbade me from going! As you may have read, I am 31 and will turn 32 yet my Mom can tell me that I may not go to Shreveport, and I obey! I should’ve gone out of spite. I think that on Christmastime I will give her a box full of nothing but a slip of paper explaining that her gift didn’t happen on account of I didn’t have any gambling winnings with which to buy presents!

The good news, I guess, is that today I started to break out of my funk a little bit. Here’s what happened (and you already know about pancakes.)

From 4 o’clock until pancakes I read some books and studied for my test. After pancakes, I shot pool with my Dad and he took me two out of three. Then I came home and cleaned my den. Then I went over to get my sister. We went to the SPCA to see some dogs. I almost adopted one, but fortunately somebody else beat me to it. There was an adult dog there who may have been called Robbie. I should’ve adopted him, but Albert would freak out. Then I went to the Genghis Grill and ate a bunch of chickens. Now I’m getting ready to go take pictures of the houses of people who did a poor job decorating for Christmas. This will most likely be the topic of the next entry, and it will definitely make me feel happy!

Here’s hoping for a good week of people who don’t litter, smoke, or hack up their babies. I am asking each of you to try to remember to do something nice for some other people. I think acting kind is a worthwhile thing to do.

The Atmosphere In My Office Stinks!

I’ve recently been extremely disturbed by something going on where I work. So I decided to write a song about it. I apologize in advance for going scatological on you.

Men’s Restroom Blues
(a parody of “Folsom Prison Blues” by Johnny Cash)

I smell the end times comin’.
They’re comin’ from the stall.
Just around the corner and
slightly down the hall.
My face is turnin’ purple,
But I’m afraid to breathe.
The fumes are overwhelming.
Seems like they’ll never leave.

How can any human
emit that kind of smell?
What must you have for lunch?
An entire Taco Bell?
I need to use the restroom.
I think I’ll wet my briefs.
Cuz I can’t go in the toilet.
The smell’s beyond belief.

(guitar solo)

It’s been over an hour
but I still smell the smell
I suspect is reminiscent
of the way it smells in hell.
I can’t hold it any longer.
I’m gonna go real fast.
And try not to inhale
all that gas he passed.

(guitar solo)

I’d nearly finished goin’
when the aroma hit my head.
Now I’m sad to tell you
that I am dead.
The smell in there was lethal.
He must’ve eaten a cat.
The OIG men’s bathroom
is where the smell is at.

Turkey in the Barnyard

L. Feathers - Thanksgiving 2004


Man, if there's one thing I'm good at it's poetry. Here is one about Thanksgiving especially for you. It's called "Turkey in the Barnyard" and it's written by someone who is not me.

Turkey in the barnyard, what does he say?
Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble all day.
Turkey on the table, what do I say?
Yummy, yummy, yummy, yummy, yummy all day.
Turkey in my tummy, what do I say?
I ate too much on Thanksgiving Day!

Thanksgiving and a Productivity Pledge

Good evening and season's greetings. Let me take this opportunity to wish you all a happy Thanksgiving. Please let us not forget all that we have to be thankful for this holiday season which is a lot no matter who you are for at least your crazy mother didn't hack off your arms while you were just trying to be a good baby.

First, I must tell you about the intellectual stimulation I received courtesy of someone who - for Anonymity's sake - I'll cryptically refer to as Auditor L. Here is the transcript of our conversation (complete with facial expressions, pauses, and noises that I just couldn't help letting out of my self):

Auditor L: (out of nowhere) "Are you 31?"
Larry Feathers: "Why, yes, I am 31."
Auditor L: (seriously) "Are you going to be 32?"
Larry Feathers: (long pause)
Larry Feathers: (groan)
Larry Feathers: (grimace)
Larry Feathers: (sigh)
Larry Feathers: "Do I believe what you just asked me?"
Auditor L: (silence)
Larry Feathers: "Because certainly you don't expect an answer to a question like that."
Auditor L: "No, I guess not."
Larry Feathers: "What could possibly happen next?"

And this is the sort of thing I am faced with every day! Furthermore (and perhaps more sadly), I look forward to these episodes. Don't ask me why, but I think it's the same thing that causes me to repeatedly watch the Brady Bunches (is that right?) where Greg decides that he wants to "live by exact words" or the one where Marcia keeps telling Charlie that she has to break her date with him because "something suddenly came up" or the one where Peter keeps proclaiming "pork chops and applesauce" in that ridiculous voice trying my best to get an exact count of how many times those phrases are repeated. Indeed, I live for figurative kicks to the crotch.

But is it too much to ask to want a little bit more out of life? I'm starting to feel as if I'm blowing it. Time is really starting to fly, and I'm pretty well convinced that I have one foot planted firmly in the grave as it is. Yet I spend much of my time talking to co-workers about what age I'll be when I get done being this one.

Was I put here to be a GS-12 (not that anything's wrong with that)? Mustn't there be a grander plan? I can't even get a report out! It's time to start producing. Here is my pledge: From this point forward I will become a more productive person. There will be more audit reports, more blog entries, more reading, more walking my dog, more going out into public, less cheese, more not laying on the couch all weekend, less freaking out every time the phone rings because I don't really feel like talking, more miscellaneous, less potatoes, more stampin' it up, less getting mad about things I can't affect, more squat thrusts, less this and that, more not forgetting to change my underpants (only joking - just seeing if you're still reading this), more being glad, etc.

This has been about Thanksgiving and how I intend to start being more productive. Now let's talk about it World!

Blog Casserole

Hi everybody. It seems like it’s about time that I get crackin’ with the blogs again. For reasons that I can’t quite articulate, I’ve been on an extended hiatus from people except the ones with whom I work and to whom I’m related. It has to do with a combination of things that probably wouldn’t make sense to people who aren’t me. I regret having not returned phone calls, text messages, and e-mail from certain people. It’s nothing personal. We’ve come to a point where I’ve been such a miserable friend for so long that it doesn’t seem fair for me to call up any of you as if I’ve been acting like a swell guy all along. The bottom line is that if any of us are going to ever talk again it’s going to require that A) you re-initiate the friendship, and B) you don’t start asking me a bunch of questions about what my problem is.

Recent poop evidence indicates that I have a mouse (or mice) at my house. So I went over to Kroger Grocery Store and bought some poisonous mouse and rat food. I stuck it in various strategic locations around the house and today I saw my first mouse (I think this is actually the first mouse I’ve ever seen in person). He was grey, seemingly young, and practically dead. I took him outside and put him in the plants. Now that I met a mouse I’m trying to figure out why I wanted to kill him. Why don’t very many people like mice? They seem really nice. I’m feeling pretty bad about poisoning the one I saw today.

There is a new Peter Murphy CD called “Unshattered” and, I must say, on first listen it is the best thing he’s done since at least “Deep”. Other good new music includes Elvis Costello’s “The Delivery Man” and Robyn Hitchcock’s “Spooked”. I’m sad to say that you should stay away from the new Black Francis CD. It contains a bunch of new versions of old Pixies songs and it’s just not very good at all.

Say, Matt and I have begun wearing ties on a fairly regular basis. When I was living with my parents until I was 30, I had my Dad tie my ties for me. When I moved out, I would often call my Dad (fake) crying that if he didn’t get over here to tie a tie for me that I’d just have to sell my house and move back home! At first that scared him into getting over here and making me some ties. Finally he told me that 1) he refused to get over here to tie my ties anymore, and B) that I MAY NOT move back into his house on account of I am too old. This time not even reminding him that “I didn’t ask to be born!” worked. Then a day came where my manager, Cheryl, said that I must wear a tie to work for something or other. In desperation I looked up diagrams about tying ties on the Internet. I found a nice diagram that taught me the way to tie, and now – I must say – I can make a splendid half Windsor. Last week I wore a tie on Wednesday through Friday even though Cheryl didn’t require it. Some of the different people kept telling me how nice I looked and they were right! Other characters determined that these ties are some part of a grand conspiracy. What's behind all this tie wearing? That's for me to know and you to find out.

What else…

1. Erik and Emily’s baby came out and she’s called Ellie. You ought to see her! She’s a nice baby.

2. I’m starting to study for the CPA exam. Seriously this time. If you are in the market for some good exam prep material, check out http://www.cpaexcel.com/. It’s fun!

3. Auditor Lisa didn’t realize that all of the baked dough on a pizza constitutes the crust. She thought that only the very edge of the crust counts as the crust. I asked her, "Say, what would you call the part of the crust that isn't the edge?" "Umm, the bottom," said she in her best valley girl voice and in a way indicating that I am the one who is the idiot. I’m just not sure how she stays alive sometimes.

4. Grey Shirts fall season ended. We went 1 and 6. Our one win came courtesy of a forfeit.

5. My right arm doesn’t work very well anymore because I dove into James Orr as we were both sprinting for the same fly ball. There seems to be quite a bit of damage, but I don’t trust doctors so I’ll just have to live with it. And people who come near will just have to live with my whining.

6. Burton’s is a good sausage. So is David’s Meat Market sausage.

7. I get to go to Austin on Monday through Wednesday. I can hardly wait! My last trip there got cancelled and I haven’t got to look at the nice people in the AFO for a long time.

8. This is some of my favorite weather. Albert R. likes it too. He especially likes all of the pecans in the back yard. There are thousands of them. We keep the door open througout much of the day. Sometimes mosquitos come inside.

9. I just found out that the senior auditor I’ve been working with is taking employment elsewhere. I’m happy for her and sad for me. Auditors who didn’t have an opportunity to work for Amy can not become the best auditor they can be. Best wishes and so long Amy.

I guess that’s about it for now. Sorry for not having written apolitically in a while. I’m also sorry for having been out of touch with so many of you. Sometimes I am a jackass.

Prediction

In general, it seems that people get more motivated about going out to support something they like than they are to go out against something they hate.

All of these polls show this election to be virtually deadlocked. It's going to come down to which party does a better job of getting people out to vote.

This election has little to do with anybody's like or dislike for John Kerry and most everything to do with people's like or dislike for George Bush. Assuming that voter fraud (Mary Poppins, Dick Tracy, coke addicts registering fraudulent voters) doesn't tip the balance of the election in favor of Kerry, I predict Bush will win this thing handily (>300 electoral votes). People who like George Bush are more apt to vote than are people who dislike him.