Stupidity is My Armor

Digging about 15 years into my past for this one! This may be proof that being oblivious can be your savior.

I used to work at a pizza place called, oddly enough, Pizzamania in Whittier, California. I worked there on and off for 6 years. Loved the place, as I practically grew up there. Made my first real friends out of high school there. My first real girlfriend. My first real occupational injury (rotary pizza ovens are set at 550 degrees). My first real drunken party.

And my first real brush with death. Although I didn't know my own mortality was in crisis at the time.

When I first began, I was sorta the outsider, evidently, as the rest of the crew liked to play practical jokes on me, from time to time. They even spiked my food with things like pure jalopeno juice. So I was content to be the bartender for the dining room which was an ajacent area from the main counter and kitchen.

One evening while I was washing mugs and glasses, I get the usual half drunk guys using their pizza slice as a impromptu sponge when they knock over their beer mug on the table. And I get something else that night. A guy rushes in the room with a wool mask covering his face, a black zipper jacket, and a 38 snub nose pistol. He comes up to the counter and points it at me...

"gimmie the money...The MONEY!!!", he shouts.

And what did I do when someone points a weapon at my head? What went through my mind that split second? Did my life flash before my eyes? Was I frightened with the thought of being shot?

No. I can tell you exactly what I was thinking: Those coworker bastards! They got a guy to come in here to pretend to try to rob me. Oh, well played, Mr. Manager Bill...Well played! But alas, I am on to your game, my friend. Do you think me a puss? Am I an oaf? Nay, sir! I am on to you this time!!!

And then, I burst out laughing. I laugh at the futility of this facade. I laugh at my little actor (and a bad one in my opinion...Totally unconvincing) long and hard, and I give him a look like he's way in over his head here.

I throw my bar towel down. "Ah Christ! You gotta do better than that, buddy!", I say to him, a bit annoyed that I almost fell for it for just a second.

"I'm not playing here man! Open the register!" And I think, the guys in the kitchen are probably having a very good laugh at my expense right now. I'm so done with this joke. They're probably taking bets on when I'd crap my pants. Then, tell me I was sooo gullible. The perfect dupe. Not today.

"Knock that shit off! I got a lot of crap here to do! If you wanna help get that bussing cart from the hallway to the kitchen." And I ignore him. What a stupid joke. He takes off to the side hallway where the cart is staring at me with an odd look. I assume he was going to take my cart of filthy dishes to the back sinks as I asked, and I help the next drunk guy in line.

After about 10 minutes or so, I round the corner and see that the cart hasn't been bussed. So, I take the large tub of dishes, forks and platters and head on to the back. And here I see an unusual site: The entire Pizzamania crew is lined up facing the wall with their hands up... You got to admire their dedication to the joke, I think. I also see an open floor safe.

It seems the "robber" wasn't a joke.

The entire front end, kitchen, and back safe was robbed of all monies. Everything but the bar. Two guys came in to rob everyone, even took the delivery guys stash as he walked in the back door. One of them decided to walk around and steal from the bar register, and got the guy who had it being the butt of jokes that day. I may have been totally clueless, but you don't see me kissing wall and broke. Stupidity is my armor.

And I guess practical joke karma is a bitch, huh?

Happy IndependaZAARP!

I hope everyone had a "safe and sane" 4th!

I almost made it unscathed this time.

It always seems that holidays are the nexus point of calamity in my life. Something always goes wrong, it can never be anticipated, and only my staying home and hiding, can it be averted. They usually involve car accidents, and I try to only walk those days. Memorial day, sideswipe and car totaled. Birthday, went to then girlfriends house only to be rear ended and have THAT car totaled. St. Paddys day this year...Read that blog...

Needless to say, I'm not partial to driving.

So here we are at the 4th of July 2006. My car is parked across the street to avoid any firework discharges. But I feel like getting some food this evening, and I figure, "the store is only a few blocks away, driving should be safe on the rual streets". Why I chose to ignore my past I'll never know. But you'll see, it was for a good reason I did.

I go to the store and pick up a frozen pizza. As I walk to to the car, ignoring that fact I decided to no purchase any fireworks this year, I notice that the ugly clouds above were thunderous...

Then I see a huge blot of lightning slam into the ground a few blocks away! That was incredible, I think! I hope my cat is okay. He's usually hiding under the sofa on a loud explosion day like this. Then a few more stikes. Even another one almost where the first biggest one hit. Just like an awesome fireworks display!

I start to drive back home a few blocks, I notice, No lights are on in any house or street. Completely black. Wonder if the bolt hit a transformer. I remember a presidents birthday that I was almost struck by lightning when it hit a power pole transformer I was next to. Kinda cool actually.

Wait a sec... My house is right about where those bolts struck...

Then I see.

There's a 75 foot oak across the street from my house. The first bolt stuck the tree and blew the top 25 feet off. The bolt traveled down the tree and stripped it of all bark, exploding branches all the way down and sending it hundreds of yards in all direction, including the alvoves and windows of houses across the street. The second bolt hit the tree nearby, shredding it in half and sending the charge through the powerline...That goes to my house.

I drive past people out in the streets with candles and flashlights and run up to my house. My house is completely dark, and the lights start to flicker back on as I desperately call out to my cat. My God, he must be terrified that this happened!!

The light come back on, and I search franticly. As I pass my the TV, I turn it on, as the sound comforts him. It doesn't go on at first, then a big spark and it now looks like my TV took acid and is listening to Jefferson airplane. What the hell? I run upstairs and see not only are clocks not running, but some are actually fallen off the tables.

And here I find my cat lying on the bed. I touch him to check, trying not to think of the worst...When he shocks me. Literally shocks me with a static charge! And he get's up all annoyed that I woke him! He's a big statically puff ball now! If I were to rub him and toss him against the wall, he'd stick.

After I feed the now mutated electo-cat, I check all my electronics in the house, and find that most of them are shorted out! My TV, my router and phones, my computer and monitor, and dammit, my x-box! Aww dammit! What about my surge protectors? It seems, they're all okay

Here's what happened. The first bolt of lightning took out the big tree, and exposed the second lower (now tallest) tree. The second bolt hit that tree and traveled to the powerline and internet coaxial that was next to tree. That traveled across to my house And across the roof to the grounding poles, which happen to be located just outside my back window. The hit created a pulse, that bypassed all surge protectors (as it didn't travel through a powerline at that point) and fried all my electronics...and supercharged my cat.

Needless to say I had too much fireworks for one night.

But, here's the irony. I was the lucky one.

My neighbors TV's exploded. Computers fused. Windows broken from the missile like tree shards. I spent all day repairing fuses and wiring network cards and de-gaussing screens with a gadget I wipped up, and repaired everything except a modem, phones, and dammit, my x-box.

But that isn't the irony I was talking about. remember the tree that had the top 25 feet of it blown off? Where did that tonnage of tree go? Right where my car was parked not 10 minutes before. If I didn't ignore all my warnings and drive, I'd have no car, but a large metal planter. The same tree I thought was the safest placew to park that night.

So the street was closed off while all kinds of ciry workers cleared the way, and I sit here petting a cat that gives off a slight spark.

All in all, not a bad holiday. maybe next year, I might actually go out.

After grounding my cat.

Robot Bastard!

Get your geek on!

I use to do a lot of movie production work and concept art, but this...this...my good friends, is what it's all about! This was done on the cheapest budget possible, and it looks amateur, but I dare you not to watch this over and over again.

This is better than the usual Sci-Fi channel Canadian straight to DVD crap. Better than Revenge of the Sith and Catwoman (well, what wasn't better than Catwoman...I'll redefine...).

What I'm about to share with you is a wonderful film that has produced some wonderful memories for the movie production/comic book geek in me. The Creator/Writer/Director/and anything else of this epic is Rob Scharb, creator of the comic Scud. On an incredible non- budget, this unforgettable film is made. The costumes are trash bags and cardboard, the sets are flattened out boxes, and yet, this movie is better than anything shown on cable!

Prepare to be geeked out with Robot Bastard!






By the way, I had the opportunity to watch Revenge of the Sith in Spanish, and it was way better. Even the Hispanic Darth Vader at the end yelling, "NooooOOOOOOO!" was better! The only problem I had was that everyone sounded like a Mexican novella soap opera, and yoda had the voice of the Taco Bell dog...

Lets All Go to the Lobby, But Knock First!

I got free tickets to see a movie at the theater, and took advantage of that. I figure If I don't take out a loan to purchase a watered down drink and popcorn, I should be okay. And, unlike many others I see, I have the bladder of a God, a God , I say! It brakes my heart, it's so sad, when I see someone get up in the middle of a movie to shuffle off to the bathroom, and come back just after the spetacular action scene.

And you can always here them whisper, "what did I miss..."

I always thought if you can't hold it for the duration of two hours, you shouldn't ever go out without an adult diaper. Makes you wonder if these people plan their day by 120 minutes and waypoints to relieve the pressure between. Sorta like planning an assault on Mount Everest. You need to plan out every camp, and hope your sherpa brought the two-ply paper.

Anyway, for whatever reason, I needed to "use the facilities" after the movie.

I think I know why. As a awaited the previews to start, a crowd of people pushed a wheelchair with a disable person on a respirator next to me. As they backed her up, I could clearly see on the backpack LCD "low battery", and they all sat somewhere else! The whole movie was me worring about her, carefully listening for the respirator functioning, and her rhythmic breathing. everytime she took a swallow, I desperately looked for an electrical outlet. I was now her guardian, and that shattered my concentration.

As soon as the credits rolled, the throng of people surged towards the door. To go out? No. To go to the bathrooms. Moving like cattle, with slight "moo's" as some people were clustered together in a bottleneck. I waited until almost all them moved on through. Remember: God's bladder...

Passing by the long but orderly line to the "ladies powder room", I go to the entrance gateway that is...the mens bathroom. By the way...What's this "powder room" crap? Like we don't know what goes on in there? Is everyone fixing their lipstick? Do women get "the vapors" still? Call it like it is...GirlToilets. And why the line? Is everyone taking their sweet time with a good book on the can? Can women use the bathroom at home before they go to the theater? And they're so catty! I witnessed a few women whisper to their husbands and boyfriends/girlfriends, "See that lady? she didn't wash her hands!"

Walking through a doorway big enough to drive a volvo through, I try to find an unused stall. I don't like the peer pressure of society that dictates that men must used the chorus line of uninals. And there are reasons there are sneeze gaurds on salad bars. I 'll let you come to the conclusions.

Stall, closed. Stall, closed. Stall, closed. Ah...this ones opened...

I push the ajar door inward, and accidently proceed to push forward a guy in the stall with his pants down to his ankles, face forward into the toilet. The absolute fear in his eyes as he looked over his shoulder at me, I will carry to the end of my days. He didn't even try to save his flight forward because he was too busy protecting his "shame".

If he's gonna pee in a public toilet, can't he latch the door? You'd think he was expecting a UPS package here. And technically, I assulted him in an inimate moment. I just became a "masher'.

So I left, and left him to deal with the issues i've just provided him. besides my work was a block away, and I can use the bathroom there.

I arrive at my work and say hello to the staff on the sales floor. then I go to the mens room, and open the stall door...only to find another guy squatted on the can, playing a game on his cell phone. And he looks up at me with the most surpized, pathetic, helpless look a human can muster. It was a deer caught in my headlights. Jeez people! There's a lock on this stall for a reason! At least give the door a good swing close!

Now i'm seriously traumatized!

Dance of the Stubbed Toe

Good God! Nothing seems to be more painful than a stubbed toe! And, it's the one pain in the world that the ratio of pain is in direct opposition to anyone caring. Sympathy from your friends is non-existent. You can't call work and take a sick day because of your toe stubbing. (if you did, you usually pump it up by saying 'it might be broken'). You'll feel embarrassed to wait in a doctors office to tell him your foot was traumatized a while back. If you call 911, you'd better be ready to be ignored...

Why am I writing about this? I'll give you one guess...

I had another thought I was going to write about, until tragedy found its way to my metacarpals. And I had to pay homage to the pediatric gods and perform the Stubbed Toe Dance ritual.

Com'on, you know what I mean. We all do it. Without fail.

You're walking along, doing whatever you do. When this curse that strike both kings and peasants affects you. Your foot digits strike the corner of a semi immovable object. The irony is, at the point of impact, and even before possibly, you knew that item was there on the floor! You've bypassed it hundreds of times. You're not a rookie at walking. And in the second of transition from bliss to agony, your mind is working overtime trying to find an explanation on why this happened now.

Someone must have placed the object a few millimeters out of place to foul your day! There was a minor tremor, that slightly displaced objects, so your area is no long a positive feng shui, but a hellish deathtrap.

Or you're just a clumsy oaf...But no...NAY! This can never be!! I am a bipedal human, master of all creation! I cannot, WILL NOT, fall prey to common objects! I don't see lowly monkeys and meerkats tripping because of their own goofiness? And MY brain is like 11 times their size! I poop in a semi-carpeted desgnated room! No other creature on earth can claim that!

But, then again, no other creature can claim leisure suits. Pet rocks. Paying for designer water when the same thing is free. Oxygen bars. Crustless bread. And sequels to Van Wilder...without Van Wilder.

But, the deed is done, and the electric spark from your toe trauma finally makes it's way to your cranium. And what does "God's greatest creation" rationalize is the best course of action to this conundrum? What it the defining moment where we prove that Man is superior to all species?

We start the dance around the room, hissing through gritted teeth and waving our hands about to try to stave off the pain, as our eyes glass over and try to get enough breath to bitch out the item that caused this instant subtraction to your intelligence.

"Damn you, coffee table leg! Damn you to hell!! I'm coming back here and taking an axe to you! I've had it with you and the wicker chair!! Arrrghhh!!!"

Hissing to the God's I can understand. That's probably a primal instict to appease that, as it's obvious that you've upset them, and you've received penance. But, waving your hands? You're hands aren't injured at all, nor on fire. And probably these are the safest parts of your body at this moment. I figure your head is so messed up in that spark of pain, that people remember why desert foxes have such big ears. They act as heat dissipater to cool down the lil' fox. Maybe, our tourchered mind erroneously, but instectively, thinks this also can work with pain. Not having huge ass ears...Hands.

Either way, we complete the dance by quickly prancing about in either a tight circle, or an elliptical course. And a lot more quickly than we were walking just before I might add.

And before anyone say that the pain might be a broken toe: I've broken a toe once before, playing raquetball when my foot when east into a corner, and my toe continued to travel up the wall north. I thought after that initial pain, "Well, that wasn't a bad stubbed toe..."

We are all creatures of instinct. Next time you feel obligated to do the Dance of the Stubbed Toe, and try as you might, you cannot deny it, think about all this: If there is a God, it's proof not only he exists, but he has a wonderful sense of humor, and probably laughs himself silly at "Jackass"...

And if there isn't, we're all just natural idiots.

ps. the spell checker wanted to replace "penance" with "penis". make of that what you will...