Category Archives: Word Play

Odd words, phrases and jargon from about the world and web

Strive for Five – or – How to Irritate Customers

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I just got back from a run to the grocery store.  Yes, it was 5:00 AM when I left.  Evie wasn’t sleeping and so I ran to the store to get something.  Upon trying to check out I went to the ‘express’ self checkout. I pushed the start button on the screen.
“Please remove the last item from the bag and scan it,” began the monologue.  Its a monologue because the computer talks to you in a somewhat friendly voice.  Forget that!  I haven’t even put anything in the bagging area.  I pushed start.  So I moved to a different self checkout venter next to the first one.  I hesitantly pushed the start button.
“Please remove youor hair in frustration as I also fail you in begining the self checkout process,” chimed the second computer.  This was going to be irritating.  So I moved to a third station where I began praying – I remembered that if I was Catholic it would have been at this time that I would have called on Saint Earnest who is the patron saint of grocery stores – I remembered that if I was Muslim I would declare jihad on this checkout station if it failed me –  I also remembered that if I was superstitious I might have checked more carefully for black cats upon approaching the self checkout area of the store.  Gingerly I pressed the start button.

“Please shoplift because this register is also a ticking time bomb of insanity,” cried the tiny, tinny speaker!  Just then an employee walked up to the command center for the express checkout area and hit a few buttons.  The computer reset the psychological profile settings and began working for me.  As I checked out my two items I noticed stickers in front of the bags: “Strive for Five!” they declared.  In small print they asked me to put five items per bag.  Five items per… interruption: the employee is now walking to the other self-inflicted-mockery machines and having to manually cancel out of the transactions I just started.  Offset by about 1.75 seconds they begin a litany describing what was wrong with cancelling out of the orders that they had failed to execute moments before.  1.75 seconds isn’t a long time except for when the sound of voices is correcting you and jumbling together in a cacophony of computerized trauma.

Back to the five: In my life I strive for various things.  Striving is a word I would use to describe intense athletic challenge type effort.  Striving is a word I would use to describe an energetic exertion pushing to achieve a deadline for work.  Striving doesn’t enter my mind at the grocery store.  Perhaps customers would put more than 2 items per bag in the self checkout station bags if the bags that the grocery store provided were not booby-trapped so that as soon as I walked out of the store with them they would rip down the side spilling the contents I had self-bagged at the self-checkout stand after self-selecting them as I walked by myself through the store.  Or, I could double-bag my groceries and feel somewhat better about striving for five.  Maybe next time I’ll quadruple-bag, put five items in the bags (96 oz. of Lactaid milk, 96 oz. of Orange Juice, two boxes of crackers on the ends so their sharp corners can stress the plastic film, and of course some eggs on top) and then begin the Russian roulette based walk to my vehicle.  That would be striving.

That Fluffy Substance of Which 500% is Made Up of Fat

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Abby requested that with dessert for tonight’s celebration of my sister and her husband moving to the Denver Metro area that we make ‘with cream.’

I smiled and asked, “Do you mean ‘Whipped Cream’?”

To which she replied, “Dad, I call it with cream.”

And so I have been schooled in the ways of the four year old mind.  What you think you heard is now what things are called.  Which is exactly why I hope that she only accidentally overhears Jessica and I talking about ‘sects’.

Gratuitous Tipping Scene

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I know I said that the last blog post was the last for this weekend, but I had to tell you that around here the employees expect a tip for pretty much every service they provide. If you walk into the casino employees attract to you like little gimpy Mexican children with chicklets in Cabo San Lucas (which isn’t intended to be racist about all Mexican children, it was supposed to remind you of those needy eyes that say, “Please, if you buy these chicklets I will stay out of school and the maimed arm will have continued to serve me well in this endeavor to be a needy person in need of your money). Jessica has now gotten up from her short nap and is ready to go see all that is the glory of the Caesar Forums [insert sythesized recording of fanfare here].

Sin City or Salt Lake?

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Today while passing through the airport in Denver we were presented with a conundrum. And when someone presents me with such a thing I like to ponder it. The conundrum was do we try to smuggle ourselves onto the plane destined for Salt Lake City? The wholesome town of meandering Mormons? Or instead do we get on the plane that our tickets tell us about, and go to Las Vegas? The not so wholesome town that was actually settled by Mormons 🙂 Kinda hard to believe that such a reclusive bunch of religious folk would be taken over by the mob, and then eventually Hollywood studios and tycoons.

Today while walking through the mirage I noticed an intersting detail: no coins were in use. The quietness in the casino was distracting. I suppose that by moving all of the transactions to being digital they can reduce minor leaks presented by ethically challenged employees. To fix the problem of no coins they have speakers that make ‘tinking’ sounds as if coins were falling into the empy coin catchers below the ‘slot’ machines. Except that metal has been welded over the slot. So instead its a bill or house player card machine. Weird.

Of course the best part of Las Vegas so far was the sight of my co-worker holding an alcoholic beverage at 11:00 in the morning. But since he’s from Texas it was like 1:00 which is a totally reasonable time to go drinking 🙂 We’re hoping to have a good time here trying to do all of the G-rated things we can come up with. The Mirage has some dolphines and a small wild animal collection. Caesar’s next door has a very large shopping ‘forum’, and the sidewalks are littered with pictures of mostly naked women on baseball card-like ‘tracts’ that immigrants hand out on the sidewalk to attract men (and sometimes women) to go to topless bars or brothels. To me it seems like they should make soup at brothels. Vegetable brothels, chicken brothels, and of course beef brothels should produce corresponding broths that are sold at the super-markets.

However, I doubt that we’ll get such delectibles out of such sinful houses of ill repute. And even if we did, they’d have to be closely monitored for STD’s. I guess we’ll just stick with animals, shopping, and eating about every two hours at yet another fantastic restaurant.

Since my internet connection costs money here this will be my last post until Sunday night or later. Have a good weekend!

Happy Thanksfiving!

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I had a friend accidentally type ‘Thanksfiving’ last night in an IM instead of Thanksgiving. My mom will be proud to know that I am capable of spelling Thankgiving. Woops. Thanksgivng. Darn. I thought I could spell it, but apparently not. Anyway, I’m thankful for my family. A beautiful wife, a pair of beautiful daughters [which trumps a pair of jacks, but is still not quite enough to beat other hands, apparently. I’m going to Vegas in December for a business trip and have to practice my card counting skillz], a home that is warm, food that is tasty, a steady stream of income, and of course, a car that runs well.

I’m thankful for all of the things that I have, including the readers of this blog. Have a happy Thanksgiving! [Yeah! I spelled it right] But also, give someone a high-five this thanksfiving, because it will be cool.

Happy Thanksfiving!

More Fiber!

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Have you seen the commercial with all of the foods with holes in them?  Its a commercial for a fiber supplement.  Its a commercial for a fiber supplement you put in other foods.  Its a commercial for a fiber supplement that they suggest you put in spaghetti!  If God wanted fiber in my spaghetti He would have put celery in my spaghetti.  And cookies need fiber, too.  Don’t forget that.  You need more fiber in your yoghurt, your milk, your ice cream and your steak.  Fiber is apparently the other, other, other white meat.

Pardon me, I’ve gotta run.  Get it?  Run?  The runs?  Fiber.  Nevermind.

The Jury Duty That Wasn’t

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I received an invitation to a ‘party’ via the postal service requesting I come.  They even wanted me to RSVP, but threatened I could only declined once, and if I did I’d have to come the next time they invited me – no matter what.  Well, I took the Arapahoe County Jury Duty Computer Selection System up on its invite.  Except that today when I was ready to go I followed some of the instructions they sent me (I actually followed all of them, but some of them were pertinent) and called a phone number.  To my joy the number didn’t get typed in incorrectly so that I’d discover some adult hotline being run by the county.  Instead it told me I didn’t have to come in.  Therefore my civic duties had been completed but I never left my house.  Drat.

The upside is that someone is probably in court without me on their jury.  That’s good because the lawyers don’t like it when the jurors shout out, “All trafic violations should lead to capital punishment!”  Especially when its a small claimes case about shoes that didn’t hold up five minutes out of the store.

Stupid Picture Face Disorder

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There is a problem in our modern culture something that needs to be addressed: Stupid Picture Face Disorder (SPFD). If you’re not sure what I’m talking about I suggest that you take out some sort of picture taking device at the next social function you find yourself at, and you’ll learn what I’m talking about. Someone who looks perfectly normal will begin moving ten times more than they have the rest of the night. Or they might stick their tongues out. or they might make some other goofy face. These are examples of SPFD. This problem is probably bigger than America realizes. Just search Google for Stupid Face. At parties cameras come out and SPFD strikes the degreed astrophysicist so that he looks to have arrived on the short bus.
Imagine, if you will, the groom up at the altar. His bride walks down the aisle, the very picture of beauty and grace. The pastor has them facing him and begins, “Dearly beloved, we’re gathered here today to join these two…,” and it is at this moment that the pastor sees that the groom has SPFD due to the wedding photographer and is beggining to stick out his tongue, and it is also at this moment that the pastor involuntarily spits out the word, “Freaks!” instead of the normal, “people.” SPFD can strike anywhere and it needs to be stopped.

Fortunately there are some solutions to SPFD. It should be noted that the usual person strikes into SPFD as a deterrent. You see at some point in time, often in the teenage years, their mothers drag out pictures of them naked at two years of age in front of their girlfriends, or maybe someone takes a picture of them dancing at a party and instead of it looking like the super smooth moves of a brilliant dancer it looks like a poster for seizure awareness. Instead, when cameras come out people should stop doing goofy things like putting carrots in their nose (see exhibit a)

Exhibit a: Carrots

Or maybe sticking their tongues out (see exhibit b)

Exhibit b: tongues out

And definitely not trying to avoid the picture by moving out of the way (see exhibit c)

exhibit c: trying to avoid the picture

Instead people with SPFD should hold still and act normal. That way they can avoid the goofy pictures being pulled out by parents, weird relatives, or displayed on the Internet. Once you’ve seen that you can look normal in a picture, and by normal I don’t mean like the models who are photoshopped to death on magazine covers, you will discover that SPFD can be a thing of the past. Remember, only you can prevent forest fires.

So I went to the Mall…

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And who lets these teenagers go out with their brains turned off? I went into Hollister, which is kind of like a clothing store, except that the first thing that you think when walking in is not, “Clothes!” Instead you think, “Must have air!,” because they have perfume all over the place stinking the store up to the point where you honestly consider buying things at Goodwill instead, because you’re sure the clothes look as bad, and that the air will smell musty instead of like the inside of a perfume bottle.  Upon departing Hollister we walked about the mall attempting to get to various places to buy things.  At one point in time two teenage girls exited the shop I was about to pass and slowed me (and all three frillion people behind me) down because they were walking in the gear right before reverse, with little gas.  I don’t know what made them think, “Lets slow this whole mall down,” but whatever it was, I’d like to have it outlawed.

Whew!  I know that sounds cranky but it was a day filled with shopping, and while I love shopping, I love shopping with efficiency even more.  I’m an efficiency nut, which is why I drink water in glasses instead of from sieves, cullenders, funnels and firehoses.  I also try to buy low emission vehicles that get good gas mileage.  And, to reduce my shopping headache I shop for the holidays now.  Which is not as good as shopping in July, except that sometimes people want to get gifts that are more recent.  If I could pre-order more of life, I think I would.

There were other funny things that took place at the mall such as watching the elevator doors nearly close on a baby stroller because the designer of the elevator figured that the moms and handicapped people who were going to ride in the elevator also were Olympic athletes in speed training.  Fortunately the mother in charge of said stroller was a veteran and shoved the stroller further into the elevator causing the doors to relent.  Relent Green is people [sorry, I just thought that since soylent and relent sounded similar…].  Once in the elevator the scary scene in the movie started.  You know the one where the deep rumbling sound starts and then higher pitched dissonant sounds kick in and you really know something bad is going to happen?  The nasty, nasty sounds from the thriller movies were coming from the mechanics of the elevator.  Yippee!  But as passengers we didn’t race out of the elevator once the rapidly opening (and don’t forget closing!) doors expanded to their open position, instead we slowly paced out so that those getting on would not know that they were getting into the scary elevator.  We should have been screaming just to freak people out 🙂

One last brilliant thing happened in the mall.  I saw a security guard pick up a pair of balloons that had lost their ‘float’ and slowly lower the ribbons from the balloons into the garbage can and then take a utility knife *cough* of the swiss variety *cough* and pop them.  In the mall.  In case you have missed out on the sound of balloons popping in your life let me gently remind you that they don’t just go, “phhhhhhhhh.”  Popping balloons go BOOM!  And since post 9/11 too much of America is still scared of being wiped out at the mall.  By terrorists.  Shame on the security guard who has the sense to get rid of the extremely dangerous “unattended items” in the mall, but in a way that scares the kaka out of a large group of trapped lemmings.  By simply cutting the balloon by the thicker rubber at the knot he could have released the air in a slow and quiet way.  But Lone Tree’s best apparently like a good laugh.

I guess I laughed, too.  Inside, because I knew that laughing at all of the brainless teenagers and mindless adults would probably get me beat up.  And I didn’t need to be beat up.  If the security guard was as dump as it appeared/sounded he probably wouldn’t know how to break up a fight anyway.  At least I might have smelled good when it was all over if the teens shopped at that one ‘clothes store.’

Questions for Randy: Britney/K-Fed Edition

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I get asked by friends sometimes, “Randy what do you think about [insert some topic here]?” They ask because they know that I have an opinion about pretty much everything. I have an opinion about everything because I’m a collector. The Franklin Mint issued a series and I’m paying a monthly fee to collect opinions now. This morning my friend Robin asked, “So, what do you think about this britney/Kevin thing?” [editors note: this question was prompted] And since I figure that most of the internet cares about what I know, what I don’t know, and what is really happening in the lives of two famous personalities I thought I’d answer her here.

First we need to look at the facts. For example, Britney Spears used to be a hot property, but now that she’s had two kids she’s slightly less hot because people figure that Kevin had to actually involve himself with her in a way that removed the status of ‘sex icon’ and turned her into ‘mother of two.’ I will note that my wife is a mother of two and she’s still hot property, but she’s my hot property and you better keep your hands off. Another fact is that Kevin Federline, much like Ali-G is a fictitious character. How can we know this for sure? I believe that his middle name being ‘Earl’ is a dead giveaway. My grandpa’s name is Earl. I had one classmate in 6th grade who was named Earl, but otherwise, nobody is really named Earl. Secondly we know he’s fictitious because he doesn’t wear his hat correctly. Fake hat wearing is clearly a sign of fake people. Lastly its important ot recognize K-Fed as a fake person because K-Fed is blatantly a rip-off of the FedEx logo as witnessed by the graphic below:

Comparing the Obvious

The truth of the matter is that real people are involved here. People with real hearts, real feelings and a need for real love. unfortunately they’ve bought into the political agenda that I would call, “Hollywood.” That agenda tells them that love is purely a feeling and that money, sex, sex and more sex are the most important thing to a famous marriage. And sure, it sounds nice on cellophane, but its just sad. I hope that the miraculous will happen and both Britney and Kevin will wake up one morning and realize that they have to be real with themselves instead of worrying about how they’ll look on YouTube.