What Did the Birds Do?

I was in a meeting this morning, and someone mentioned that if we did a certain thing, we could "kill two birds with one stone." Now, I realize this expression is a commonly used one, but for some reason it gave me pause this morning. I just couldn't help but wonder 1) why people are always wanting to kill birds and 2) why it is that stones are so bloody valuable that we need to be sure to get that extra bang for our proverbial buck. Seriously, what did birds in general do? I suppose they could be the type of garage-dwelling birds that are forever shitting on otherwise sheltered cars, but I would think even those birds would be worthy of their own individual Stones of Death.

Feel free to enlighten me. Otherwise, go in peace, and, if you must kill birds, at least give them the dignity of using separate stones for each of them.

My Mama Didn't Raise No Fool

A co-worker told me this week that she has to have surgery on her pinky this Friday because she broke it when she "tripped" and "fell" while "running." I wasn't buying that for a minute, though. You can't fool me that easily. Oh, sure it's plausible and all. She does run all the time, probably just so she has a ready excuse, but I told her I knew the real story. See, I reckon she's really an international spy who typically executes her missions on weekends. She can't always confine it to the weekends, though, which is why she does "vacations" to Thailand and Mexico and the like for a couple of weeks a year. The way I figure it, this past weekend, her mission went awry, and she got captured. They bad guys were just starting to interrogate her ["You don't know ze answer, fraulein? Vell, let's see vot you know ven I break your fingers ... one at a time ... starting vif zees peenky!" snap] when her partner busted in and rescued her.

Tripped. Fell. Ha! I may have been born yesterday, but I've been up all day today, and I'm not buying that. Still, I don't want to blow her cover. So don't tell anyone, OK?

Mr. Yuk Would Not Approve

I saw this scene on the top shelf of the fridge in the office when I was in there the other day, and I had to take a picture. You think someone has had some trouble with sodas disappearing?

It does have 23 flavors after all. Still, if it's not a false label, Mr. Yuk would never approve of this material being stored in the fridge next to the water and the ... mildly disgusting-looking container of a milky-colored substance.

... And Carry a Big Shtick

For some reason or another this tale has been rattling around my brain lately. So I thought I would share it with you. Aren't you lucky?

When the Girl and I went on our first date, we hardly knew each other at all. We had just met randomly and had about 1.3 phone conversations. Such strangers were we that I didn't even know her last name. So I suppose that meant that we shouldn't struggle for things to talk about. We met at a decent-but-not-overly-nice resaurant and sat down to have some dinner. We were both clearly pretty nervous in that "I don't know this person" sort of way. So we concentrated on the menus and exchanged some chitchat about food and such. Once that was out of the way, I thought we were in desperate need of an ice breaker. So I said, "Look, I know I don't know you all that well, but I feel like I really need to ask you a very personal question. I hope it doesn't make you uncomfortable, and you don't have to answer if you don't want, but I just have to ask."

"Umm. OK, I guess. That sounds scary. Should I be scared?" she asked.

"I'll leave that up to you to decide, but I feel like I really need to ask," I replied.

"OK."

"What's your last name?"

Now, you may be absolutely rolling your eyes into the middle of next week and groaning. Or you may be smiling and thinking about how disarming and charming that would be. That second reaction is more of what I was shooting for, but I would have taken the first one. I just wanted to calm some nerves. Luckily for me, the Girl leaned more toward the charming response, laughed, and told me the answer. It seemed to work, too, because we seemed to have a much easier time of it after that. That particular exchange might not really have been the key, but this is my story, and that's how I'm calling it.

Recently, the Girl and I attended a vow renewal ceremony for the main particpants of the first post-college wedding I attended, in celebration of their first 10 years of marriage. (That may deserve a story of its own at some point, but not right now. Suffice it to say that you know a relationship has strong underpinnings when, upon receiving a single red rose from the guy in question after one of their first outings together -- not a date, though -- the girl in question said, "You are nauseatingly sweet.") My college roomie, who knows me as well as perhaps anyone on the planet, was also at this ceremony, and it was the first time he and the Girl met each other. While he was chatting her up and getting to know her, it somehow came out that I didn't know her last name when we went on our first date. Upon hearing that, he looked at me and immediately said, "You asked her a very personal question." It was half statement, half question. He was pretty sure of the answer, but he needed to verify it.

So apparently I have a shtick. Are you really surprised?

Public Service Announcement

Given that my gums are holding their ground about as well as the French hold Paris in wartime, I decided to give Crest Pro Health toothpaste a try based on my dentist's recommendation. The dentist suggested it would fight against any unpleasant sensitivity while still doing a good job battling the nasties that lead to other dental problems. I looked at the stuff's packaging, and it read pretty well. The box stopped just sort of suggesting that it would give me the power to save the world while pleasuring multiple women at the same time. So I bought it in preparation for the day my old tube of normal Crest toothpaste ran out.

Today was that day. So I busted out the tasty-sounding Clean Mint paste and prepared for a heretofore never-experienced session of teeth cleaning. And I have to say that it was most certainly like nothing I had ever experienced before. That toothpaste may very well kick the ass of any tartar-, plaque-, halitosis-, or gingivitis-causing bacteria while whitening my teeth and eliminating all traces of sensitivity. Hell, it might very well just push those gums back to the front lines. I'll never know, though, because of one important piece of information that is suspiciously absent from the box or the website: the stuff tastes like lukewarm ass. Slathered in hot sick. Sandwiched between two pieces of chilled ear wax. So I think I'll be making a run to the store today to buy some of the old toothpaste. I'd rather risk the sensitive teeth (which I really haven't experienced much yet) than have a twice daily lukewarm ass and hot sick on ear wax sandwich.

I just thought you should know. That is all.