8 Monkeys

(This is reportedly based on an actual experiment conducted in the U.K.)

Put eight monkeys in a room. In the middle of the room is a ladder, leading to a bunch of bananas hanging from a hook on the ceiling.

Each time a monkey tries to climb the ladder, all the monkeys are sprayed with ice water, which makes them miserable. Soon enough, whenever a monkey attempts to climb the ladder, all of the other monkeys, not wanting to be sprayed, set upon him and beat him up. Soon, none of the eight monkeys ever attempts to climb the ladder.

One of the original monkeys is then removed, and a new monkey is put in the room. Seeing the bananas and the ladder, he wonders why none of the other monkeys are doing the obvious. But undaunted, he immediately begins to climb the ladder.

All the other monkeys fall upon him and beat him silly. He has no idea why.

However, he no longer attempts to climb the ladder.

A second original monkey is removed and replaced. The newcomer again attempts to climb the ladder, but all the other monkeys hammer the crap out of him.

This includes the previous new monkey, who, grateful that he's not on the receiving end this time, participates in the beating because all the other monkeys are doing it. However, he has no idea why he's attacking the new monkey.


One by one, all the original monkeys are replaced. Eight new monkeys are now in the room. None of them have ever been sprayed by ice water. None of them attempt to climb the ladder. All of them will enthusiastically beat up any new monkey who tries, without having any idea why.


And this is how most corporate policies have been established.





(stolen unabashedly from this guy ---> http://johns-jokes.com/joke/of_the_day/The_8_Monkeys/588 )

Good fan-fiction is hard to find...

This had me rolling nearly to the point of tears... I just wish that it was an open forum so I could see just how bad this fan-fic story is. Not that -anyone- could ever top the reprimanding the author is getting from the forum Mod.

enjoy!

Dear Kantaris,
"First I'd like to say thank you for mustering your courage and posting your story in Creative Convention. Between all this "natural talent" and "good material" every now and then we need what literary types call "a sun-ripened catbox full of pig intestines" to relax with.
"Second of all I'd like to say my thank you was insincere and that you are arguably the biggest faggot to vomit his bullshit all over what is generally a good fiction forum. Without reading - without so much as scanning - this forum, you decided you'd drop off your Vin-Diesel-Meets-Monopoly-Man-Meets-THE-UNFUNNIEST-FUCKING-BUNCH-OF-SHIT story off here so we would "appreciate" it for you.
"Well guess what, Kantaris: Nobody appreciated this piece of shit. I read this and my balls shriveled up inside my stomach. This story is awful. It's so bad - so outright terrible - my finger's itching to go under your name and click the "permaban" button on principle. I won't do that because I have self-restraint, something you clearly lack.
"How do I know you lack it? Because you shat this out and didn't even stop to think you might delete it before you embarrass yourself. You just thought "hey, I had this TOTALLY FUCKIN RANDOM conversation with my brosef at work, better post it up for them folks at that Creative Forum". If I were you, I personally wouldn't have the time or capacity to post this. Why? Because as soon as it came off my fingers, onto the keyboard, my hands would be occupied propping a shotgun under my chin.
"You wretch. You low-down, yellow-bellied cocksucker. My one hope in this life used to be to fuck Christina Ricci in one of those mirrored-ceiling hotels. Not now. You wanna know what it is? Do you? I hope - I pray to Christ, Kantaris - that I come across an auto accident involving you and your family. I hope that the last thing you see before you die is me impaling your newborn son's head on a broken part of your car's frame. I hope that the last sound that crosses the barrier to your ears before the lights go out is the splootching sound my erect penis makes as it repeatedly penetrates the gushing wound in your wife's throat.
"And you know the worst part? You think this is funny. Something so bad has happened in your life that you looked at this and you were proud enough to think - just for a second - that this is something worthwhile. You know what, Kantaris? The people who write "Drawn Together" would snub this. Pictures of old women being violently raped with Medieval weaponry are infinitely funnier than this story could ever hope to be. I'd rather watch my chronically depressed mother swing neck-first from a ceiling fan than I would ever read this again.
"You ruined my forum, Kantaris. You ruined my life's one dream. You ruined fiction. All in one fell swoop, Kantaris. I hope it was worth it."

Regards, you fucking scoundrel,
Evan "Pantsfish" Wade
— From a review of an inane story on Something Awful (requires archives access to read)

Enough is enough is enough

Hey again!

I realize my posts are taking longer and longer to get out, but what can I say... I've been a busy goose.
Here is the update, thus far...
I worked. I worked some more. Then I got a second job and worked even harder.

Then my primary job, Office Depot, got some sand in their collective vagina over the fact that I was A) working on computers on my own time, with my own contacts  and B) inadvertently "representing Office Depot outside of normal business protocols" by giving a few customers my cell phone number on the back of OD business card.

Now, in my defense, I was moonlighting. I worked with exactly 4 people over the last few months. None of those four were even Office Depot customers (with the exception of 1 elderly couple, and it was a service that OD doesn't offer)... and, here's the kicker, I asked months ago if it was ok to do this "side business" and the store manager said it was absolutely fine, just so long as I wasn't poaching business from OD when I was on their clock.

So here comes the corporate Loss Prevention guy last wednesday... calls me into the office and asks why I'm "giving out my cell phone to OD customers and offering to do services on my own time cheaper than what the store charges."  After the initial shock of his accusation, I denied ever doing such a thing. Mainly, because I never did that. So we went round and round for a bit, I wrote a statement to the effect that I had indeed given out my number, but never, ever offered to do any services that OD offers to a customer on my own time for a reduced rate.
I also added that anyone that said I did do that was a goddamn dirty liar. In retrospect, that may have not been the best thing to put on paper.

So, I got 3 days administrative leave while HR decided what to do with me...which ended in termination. Not because of actually going out and doing work on my own (which they said was a conflict of interest, but had no leg to stand on since I had my store managers approval)...but because I simply gave out my cell phone number to a customer.

Now, when I did this (and it was more than once)... It was never with the intention of collecting money for services rendered, I would always add the token phrase " ok, here's my card... our store number is on the front and my number is on the back... if you have any problems at all with your new laptop or you run into any type of issues with it, please give us a call and I'll make sure it gets straightened out."
Where I come from, and how I was raised, this is just good customer service. Apparently, Office Depot does not condone good customer service and considers it a bad business practice.

 The least they could have done was give me a "thanks for your help" for bringing them from a -12% profit up to only a -1% margin in the 9 months I've worked there. Yes, I was that good of a salesman... consistently in the top 10 sales of the district for about 6 of those months, top 5 to be honest... and in the top 3 sales for 3 months.
All is not lost, however... I still have my other crappy minimum wage job.

Secondly, I heard a voice in my head about a week ago... it happens sometimes, most of the time I listen to it. Its usually something strange when/if I'm pondering some sort of life decision... in the past I've liked to think that maybe it was God talking to me, trying to lead me down whatever path may be best for me at that time.

This is the same voice that told me to quit my job (about 2 jobs ago), the same voice that told me I should get off my ass and marry my last wife, the same voice that also told me it was ok to start bullriding at age 25... because you only live once, right!?

So, my voice said "hey, you haven't slept for the last 3 hours...get out of bed, get on facebook, and see if you can find your ex from about 4 years ago... just to see how she's doing." 
So I did.
I even sent her a message about how proud I was of her... she'd really come along way since she dumped me. She's completely self sufficient, well on her way to getting an awesome degree that I could never get myself, and very much standing on her own two feet.
I never expected her to actually reply to the message, I was complete douche for pretty much our whole relationship, but surprisingly enough she did reply. We even chatted for a bit online, then moved to phone conversations.
I discovered she's been single for almost a year, same as me. She'd learned to weld and had taken a job doing that for quite a while, same as I was doing when we had split. Now she was getting a college degree in computer software engineering, and I've been fixing computer software/hardware issues for nearly a year now.
After we were over the shock of the similarity of our lives from the last few years, she even mentioned a visit... maybe even a prolonged visit? So I started contemplating this... she was a great girl, then. Seems to be even better now... and I have been habitually lonely for the last year or so. Not even so much as asked a girl out on a date.

So I threw out a line and wondered if maybe I could see her again.... talking about the possibility of moving there to be closer, and starting fresh in a new area... I've been here where I am for far too long.  She agreed that sounded cool...except.
Yeah, there it comes. That singular word that crushes so many a heart/aspiration in men the world over. Except.

"Except I'm not sure I want to get into a relationship again, I like living by myself and going through life on my own now. I'd be happy to let you stay for a while until you got your own place, but I can't guarantee that there will be any type of relationship like we used to have. I love you. I love you uncondtionally, and you'll always have a place in my heart." The only thing she forgot to really drive the stake through my heart, as it was perched upon my sleeve, was " I think we're better off as friends", but the sentiment was there.  I'm not completely oblivious.

Now, what all of this leads up to is that little voice I hear now and then. It's not the same little voice that says "go get something to eat." or "don't stick your hand in fire, stupid." 
No, I'm fairly convinced that its a higher power talking to me. Yes, I know, I sound crazy... but I'm ok with it.

What I've come up with is this... that little voice really -is- God.
And he's fucking trolling me like I'm the biggest noob EVAR. The bitch of it is, I keep falling for it, then keep blaming him when I immediately fall short.

In the short run, like the last year and a half, here is what God's thrown at me...
1) My dad died.
2) I had to be the one that killed him.
3) I lost my job.
4) My wife left me and STILL hasn't been heard from.
5) longest term of unemployment in my life.
6) Think things are turning around, then get pwned by some LP douchebag because I put my cell number on the back of a card.
7) Think I have at least a fighting chance at relationship happiness again, then get slammed in the friendzone faster than I can say "help meh, jayzus!!"

Because of this laundry list of personal tragedy, I've not exactly been on speaking terms with God lately. Or gone to church, or anything else... except.
I still keep listening to that little voice when it speaks... the only thing I can't hear is the "lol" after the results are in.


So, this morning... and this after a great deal of reflection last night, I've decided to keep on listening. And I'm not going to take it so seriously anymore. I'm going to see if I -can- set up something with my girl out west. Even just as friends or whatever, I'm not looking to head into anything with expectations, either... it never works out well when I do that. I think I'm due for a change of scenery, and if she's gracious and loving enough to allow me that for a minute, then I'd be eternally grateful... because I love her unconditionally, too. Always have.
After all of the bullshit I've had to endure for the last couple of years, I think I'm entitled to a little fucking happiness. So enough is enough, God.
Gimme your best shot, because I've been trolled by the best and I've trolled them right the fuck back and walked away with my head held high.

I can take it. I'm tougher than you think.

Hi There. I've missed you.

Well well well, its been a while, hasn't it?
I'd like to blog all night and let you wonderful folks in on multitudes of joyful experiences, fabulous windfalls of luck and fortune, and unending fits of laughter at the expense of others... 'cept I can't. Mainly because nothing exciting has happened.

That's the main reason I haven't made a post in so long, because as supportive as you've all been I have really felt that you deserve better than just seeing what it was I had for lunch yesterday afternoon. You deserve rants about inane things that are worthy of Lewis Black monologues... and it just hasn't been happening.

I still work at the same shithole of an "office supply" store, a thinly disguised, less pushy version of Best Buy.. with paperclips.  My department manager is still a virgin that lives with his parents at the age of 32.  My store manager is still dating some bipolar chick that, get this, has moved herself AND her brother into his newly purchased home...but stills says "we're not a couple". She allegedly even went on a date and brought the other guy -back- to the house while Boss was at work or some crap like that... I say allegedly because I heard this purely in gossip form.  Regardless, poor guy has his nuts in a vise and she has her hand on the crank.

I gave up on the reason I started this blog, which was the weight loss thing... I did end up losing about 10 lbs, so I'm back to the weight I'm personally comfortable with, plus on the off chance I did lose the competition, I won't have to go work on the new house the Boss got... I would have moral issues doing that with bipolar girl living there calling the shots.

I did have my hours cut at shithole job, but thats been storewide...nothing I've done personally. I keep saying I need to start looking for a part-time job somewhere, or full-time, closer to home... but being the procrastinator I am, I never do.

Today I was somewhat scolded...apparently I don't "Tweet" enough for Mrs. Macready. I apologize, I'll try to do better. Hopefully the self-pic of me made up for my lack of contact <3.

And, since I have nothing of real importance to actually blog about... I'm going to write this blog for Laidy Mondegreen (who has also been lacking in her posts, but has recommendations about what she likes to read about)... I shall attempt something that has probably never been attempted by any amateur blogger before, in the history of blogging, so this may be a world first.
Her list is as follows, and I will try to cover all topics by the time I am done, in no particular order... and if I'm successful, I shall have them all tied together by the end.
Say a prayer to whatever gods you may worship, and strap yourselves in...

    * Male (not that I don’t want to read females, but the majority of the blogs I read are written by females)
    * Photographers (or artists in general)
    * Writers (published or otherwise)
    * Animal lovers
    * Funny people
    * Travelers
    * Readers
    * Married/About to be married
    * Inspiring


  I, Velocigoose, am a Man. It's true, both physically and mentally. Unlike other great men in my time who have been writers, my favorites being Hemingway and Thompson, I am not a writer at all.  I'm not saying that I don't do my damnedest to use correct grammar and proper spelling, however, my midwestern side does shine on occasion.
  I was raised a poor black child in the cotton fields of Alabama with my family of sharecroppers, working for everything that we never had, except a roof over our heads and some cornmeal for sustenance. Up before dawn, I'd head out into the fields with my burlap sack and the blisters on my tender feet still aching from the day before.  It was a harsh life for a two year old, but I managed. We had to put food on the table, and everyone had to chip in.  I did, now and again, shirk off some of the responsibility of being the 12th oldest sibling in the house... managing to slip away for a mid-afternoon skinny dip with my faithful pet mule, Conrad, and my soon-to-be wife, Darletta.  Oh, how I loved that girl, she was so much more mature than I was, being five, and already she had 3 children from a previous marriage.  That didn't matter to me, though, she taught me more in those few short summers than I had ever dreamed of learning in the rest of my years.
  Just her and I, naked in the swimming hole... Conrad and his camera close by. It was perfect.   Until the pictures surfaced on the internet. Her dad, a traveling salesman, "accidentally" came across them one evening while he was in a motel in Detroit. Less than a week later, Darletta was gone...destined to live on the road with her Pa, she became a world traveler in her own right..but thats her blog to write, not mine.  She did send me a couple of letters after we were forced to break up, mainly about funny people she'd met while on her adventures.

  The one that I remember best is about this young kid, his name was Duke... he used to run all over the place with his buddies Dan and Opie, and his sister Leanne, looking high and low for his dad, Garth...getting in all sorts of misadventures. Oh, the laughs that they had... it still makes me smile.  I told her that if she ever published her letters, that she'd end up with multitudes of readers and followers..probably almost to a cult-like status, all over the world.

  All I can hope to do is follow in her footsteps and attempt to channel her creativity a little bit, faithfully following her beacon of light in the world of literature, and hopefully entertain you all a little bit while I do it.




  Not sure when or if I'll come up with another post, but keep in touch followers... all 17 of you. If you nag enough, I shall write... but if you act as if you don't care, then I won't either.  Still, I love you guys, and thanks <3.

-Velocigoose

Drunken blogging 101

First lesson, don't try and edit previous posts.

I'm on #8 out of 24 beers...yay for alcohol.
Here is what I'm currently listening to -

The Vacation Saga - part deux

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The Official Velocigoose Vacation Chronicle

Well, its vacation time for the elusive Velocigoose. Everyone is leaving the household to actually "go" on vacation, meaning its just me here... I figured I'd go ahead and take the same time off from work and just sit home and enjoy the quiet.
When I say sit home, I mean that literally... we're currently a 1 vehicle household, meaning that I've got no wheels for roughly the next week.
So here's what I've done so far...

I came home.

Ate a sandwich.

Laid down for a nap.

Woke up at 12:30 a.m.

Won the poker shootout on facebook.

Checked bank account to see if I'd been paid.

Ate a donut.

Started this blog post.

So what do I do now? I've accomplished nearly everything I wanted to do in the first 11 hours, and I've still got like 6 days to go. I've taken vacation time before, it's not like I'm a stranger to it or anything...ok, I guess technically my previous vacation times were called unemployment... but the sentiment is still the same, right?

Any suggestions to break up the boredom while being home alone? (other than writing more blog posts... I'm already bored with that.)