Friday, March 31, 2006

Lost and gone forever

So, if you know me very well at all or work with me on a regular basis (and, yes, I probably have your phone number memorized) you know that I travel all the time. I'm also extremely hard to reach or make any sort of contact with. All that said, my brother created an unique but honest out-of-office reply for my email:

Sorry I missed you, I am never in the office, in fact I would need a map just to find the office, so of course you missed me. Rumor has it my family has sent pictures of me for milk cartons and postcards.

I am currently on a (Choose one: plane, train, automobile, ship, space shuttle) and will be spending the night at a hotel in (name a location in North America) which I will be available between 12-3 as I sleep, but I have meetings immediately before and after, following that I will be back in a (Choose one: plane, train, automobile, ship, space shuttle) until my next (chose one: sale meeting; sales training, vendor visit, client visit, or my (name of the place I am at) girlfriends house) after which you can reach me (go back to the beginning)

Your best hope of ever catching me is calling a random stewardess at the main airline hubs in the country, where they all know me by name and may also be my (name of a location in North America) girlfriend. Don’t bother calling me on the cell phone as I can never answer it and the voice mail is always full. Forget emailing me despite the fact I have four computers at my disposal - I never have time to use any of them. But you can read my blog and check out my website if you have forgotten what I look like or would like to pretend I am talking to you so you can engage in my great sense of humor.

Do not use this email as an invitation to rob my house just because I am not there - all my mail and money go to my parents house and I don’t have any time to spend my money and buy things anyway. Despite the fact I work 80 hours a week I actually don’t make that much money either. So unless you are offering a new job with less hours and better pay forget trying to get hold of me. Please just close your eyes and remember the times we used to have together and the man I used to be.

Toby (the machine)
(***) ***-**** [cell] (not that it's going to help you anyhow)

Friday, March 24, 2006

I found my desk - it's gray.

Many of you will be pleased to know I cleaned up my desk. That's right - cleaned. I've recovered some important items that have been lost for years. Apparently, I've been getting some magazines I didn't know about that were burried under piles of stuff. Also, thanks so much to all of you who sent Christmas cards in 2003 - they were lovely. Unfortunately, one item which I always thought was a stuffed-plush toy left by a caring coworker turned out to just be a clod of dust that had collected in the corner.I've also returned all employee dishes to the kitchen, found some coffee mugs, and a Starbucks gift certificate. As you look at the pictures, notice a few things: there's a large silver calculator on the desk in the first picture just above the top of the chair. Yes, it's a calculator and it's almost as big as my computer. Thanks to my coworkers who think I'm suffering from farsightedness. Also, note there's a dart board for when I'm on the phone with boring customers (not you Ruth, of course), and Mr. Potatoe Head is always watching me work (probably bugged with hidden cameras so management can watch me). I'm a "pile" type guy - everything looks disorganized to you, but I know what's in each pile (with the exception of that gift certificate and a few other crucial, highly-sensitive papers). Finally, here's the new office....
...we'll see how long it lasts.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

I should have said something...before I started screaming

Like everyone, I have my....quarks. Perhaps one of the more disturbing would be the fact that occassionally I'll wake up screaming at night. I usually try to warn new roommates or coworkers if we're traveling together, but sometimes I just forget. I've been told that I "scream like a 4th grade girl at recess". Seems natural. I've scarred more than one person with these sudden bursts of terror. Usually, my dreams aren't really that scarry. You see, the way I describe it is this: some people have dreams that make them twitch a little, perhaps snort really loud, or even wake up breathing a little faster - I just sit up screaming. Simple. I often wake myself up as well, and then laugh it off and go back to sleep. However, it seems to keep my roommates up for a while longer. One roommate actually thought he heard a mountain lion outside, but no, it was me. I've had hotel security called on me once - I'm sure the folks next door thought someone was being murdered. Did I mention I talk too? Yes, I do. Crazy things about random things, but it all makes sense in my head. Once, I was camping with some friends and had gone to bed early. When my buddy came into the tent late that night, after zipping it up, he turned around only to be nose-to-nose with me. According to him, my eyes were open and I said, "Hey man, did you find your shoe?". Then, I just flopped back down onto my sleeping bag. I guess it was a little strange. I don't know - I don't remember it. Anyway, let this be your fair warning: if you're ever my roommate, neighbor, or in the same hotel as me, just make sure you hear me laughing after the scream and you'll know I'm alrgiht. And please - don't call security. That's embarrassing. All that said, feel free to analyze your own dreams.

Sunday, March 19, 2006

"And they named it COSMIX"

My patience for traffic is minimal at best. Now the city is working on a project to widen the Interstate. You know it's going to be bad when they give the project a name (COSMIX) and create a website. This website is filled with reasons you'll be late for work, as well as traffic cams of people just like you sitting in traffic. Yes, everything you could want, from which exits are closed to downloadable maps of detour routes. I'll be sure to print those out and keep them handy in my car. It's a simple way for the city to say, "We're going to be doing this construction for a very long time." Of course, you wouldn't want to miss any of the excitement, so they've decreased the speed limit to 45 as well. That way, everyone can get a good, long look at the workers pushing dirt around. Please join us for the completion party in the year 2030.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Deep Thoughts, by Jack Handey

One thing kids like is to be tricked. For instance, I was going to take my little nephew to Disneyland, but instead I drove him to an old burned-out warehouse. “Oh, no,” I said. “Disneyland burned down.” He cried and cried, but I think that deep down, he thought it was a pretty good joke. I started to drive over to the real Disneyland, but it was getting pretty late.

Monday, March 06, 2006

How about just brushing your teeth in the morning?

Every once in a while, a product comes along that causes us all to pause and ask why. If there's ever been a room full of product designers that decided to invent the dumbest product they could just to see how many people would flock to buy it, this is it. I'm sure they sit and laugh at consumer stupidity while we 'try new things' and they see sales increase. Seriously, please tell me that you have never purchased Brush Ups. The TV commercials alone should have been your first warning as grown adults dance around town with this rubber finger puppet used to brush their teeth. I really don't want to see anyone brushing their teeth in public, and especially with some mock-tooth-brillo pad (or textured teeth wipes as they call them). Thankfully, they've warned consumers in the product features that the "Comfortable, slip-on design fits most finger sizes". You know we'll be seeing a lawsuit for this in a year or so - some fat guy loses a finger when his circulation is cut off by his newfangled textured tooth wipe. You see, part of the genius of a toothbrush is that you don't have to stick your fingers in your mouth. I swear, if you're ever out with me and you 'rip one open', the evening is over.