Lovely Lavender.

It was dark when I got dressed this morning so I didn’t really notice the color of my briefs. But, when I used the bathroom at work I looked down and noticed the lovely shade of lavender.

I quickly check the tag.  FTL.  Yup, these are mine and not my wife’s.

Apparently, my gray briefs got washed with something red and have now taken on a purple hue.

Well, at least no one can see them.

Traumatic Insemination.

With all of the hype about bed bugs, I decided to do a little online research. Beside the fact that these little apple seed sized bugs can go for 18 months with out eating, they also have a very unique way of mating. It is called traumatic insemination.

Because the female bed bug is usually not interested in mating, they do not copulate. Instead, the male stabs the female any where on her body and inseminates her that way.

Sounds like rape to me.

Poppy Seeds.

I ran across an article the other day about a man who was arrested at the airport in UAE for bringing poppy seeds into that country. It seems that the man had eaten a bagel with poppy seeds on it in England before his flight and some of the poppy seeds were found on his clothing.

The UAE is really strict about bringing drugs into the country. They have banned hundreds of drugs both prescription and none prescription. In particular, they are looking for cough syrup and antidepressants, both of which are quite common. And if you get caught with these drugs, you could get 4 years in prison.

So, if you have a cold or are feeling depressed, stay out of the UAE,

My reputation preceeds me!

The other day when we were at church, a woman came up to me and asked me if I worked for the State in Lansing. I was rather startled by this question so I was reluctant to answer immediately. But after studying the woman for a few moments I concluded that she was harmless, so I told her that I did.

She said that she worked for the Department of Education and asked where I worked. I told her that I worked to the Department of Information Technologies. She then introduced her self and asked my name. When I told her my name was Ned she said “Not Ned Swift?” Once again I was startled by the question and once again I reluctantly said “Yes”. This was followed by “Now I know who you are.”

Now at this point in time, I don’t know if that is good or not. She seemed rather positive but I try to stay in the background as much as possible so I wonder how my name came up.

Paranoia is so much fun!

I hate FedEx!

I hate FedEx! I have hated them for years! I think they are the “Pimp” of the delivery business. They seem to relish their ability to not deliver a package. I hate them so much that I don’t even know where to begin. They are worse than the Post Office!

If UPS makes a delivery to a building and can not find the recipient, they will at least make an effort to find the person. They will even ask around.

Not so with FedEx. They will just put a sticker on the door and leave. Three stickers and your package gets sent back.

The other day, FedEx couldn’t delivery my package because they were in the wrong building. Go figure!

Beaners.

For as long as I can remember, Lansing has had a chain of coffee shops named “Beaners”. They were kind of like Starbucks on a smaller scale. And their logo was a big “B”.

Well, the Hispanic community declared that the name “Beaners” was degrading so Beaners decided to change their name. I thought that “B” would be a good name or even Big B. Well I was close. They chose Biggby instead.

Personally, I think the name Biggby is a little dorky. They should have gone with Big B but they didn’t ask me. Oh well, I don’t buy coffee there so I guess it doesn’t matter.

The Snow Blower.

When we first moved into our house, we were given a used snow blower. It was a single stage blower that was powered by a 2 cycle engine.

The problem with the snow blower was that it didn’t like winter. If we left it in the garage, it would not start. So, we had to keep it in the basement. This was a real pain, of course, because it smelled like gasoline and the melting snow left puddles.

In order to get the thing started, you had to remove the plastic engine shroud, remove the spark plug, pour gasoline into the spark plug hole, reinstall the spark plug and the plastic shroud. Then, you had to put on the choke and start pulling on the starter rope. And, you had to do all of this very quickly as if it got cold, it would refuse to start.

Also, if it stopped, it would not start again until it cooled off. Apparently it didn’t like being hot either.

And, in the end, it was a toss up as to which was easier. Sometime it was easier to just shovel the driveway by hand than to fight with the snow blower.

Eventually, we sold the thing at a garage sale. When the buyer asked if it ran, I told him that it did. I didn’t go in to the details on how to get it started.

I now have a two stage self powered snow blower with an electric start. It doesn’t seem to mind the cold and starts first time every time.  Yes!

Christopher Coffin.

When I was growing up, Saturday night was horror night at one of the TV stations. And, it was hosted by a man named Christopher Coffin. His real name was Reed Farrell, but his stage name fit the genre to a tee.

He had a goatee, dark glasses and wore a fedora. Plus, he sat in a wheelchair with a plaid blanket across his lap. During station breaks he would wheel himself from the shadows in the stage lights. Then he would make some ghoulish comments to the viewers while smoking a cigarette. Because of this, he referred to himself as the “Guardian of the Ghouls” .

Why do I bring this up? Well, the other day I was talking with a coworker of mine. She too remembered the show but we just could not remember the name of the host. Finally, it occurred to me the other day so I had to check it out on line.

Christopher Coffin has a web site which shows his picture along with a brief biography. But, to my surprise, there are a number of people with the real name of Christopher Coffin. Imagine the ribbing they must have gotten in school.

Fat Bastard Wine.

When I was in Meijers (regional grocery chain) the other day, I walked down the wine isle and noticed that they were carrying a new brand of wine. It is called “Fat Bastard”.

Now, I realize that in the race to get your attention, some wineries have come up with unusual names, such as Yellow Tail. But what happened to the good old days when wineries had dignified names such as Chateau Mouton?

While Fat Bastard might be a conversation piece, it doesn’t contain any lasting appeal. In fact, it sounds like the kind of wine that you drink right out of the bottle. Perhaps even with a straw.

I wonder if it has a screw cap?