Disappointment Haunted All My Dreams

Know what I did this last weekend?

No?

I saw Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest.

Yeah, I did. Really.

Unfortunately, I was not really all that impressed.

Really.

I am sorry to those who have not seen the movie but I must reveal how the movie ended in order to validate my dismay and disappointment. Through the entire first 6 1/2 hours of the movie (yeah...it is a long movie) I was somewhat entertained. There was a lot of swashbuckling and a few "Arrrrrrr's" mixed in. Of course, Johnny Depp was just darlin' as the wacky and contorted Captain Jack Sparrow. And Keira Knightley...well...what more can you say about Keira? Except for, maybe, "Hey chick! How about eatin' a hamburger or something?"

So I was moving happily along enjoying the swashbuckling and mixture of "Arrr...ARRRR!" when the movie ended.

*sigh*

The following is definitely a movie spoiler but I can't help it. For those who saw this garbage you must agree it was a horrible way to end such a blockbuster.

As Captain Jack was about to attack the Kraken, Davy Jones jumps out and attacks!


What made it worse was that he actually sang I'm a Believer, Last Train to Clarksville, AND Rany Scouse Git.

How depressing.

PS: For the record my favorite Monkee was Micky Dolenz. What a crazy man!

And i must go, oh, no, no, no!
Oh, no, no, no!

To Worry-Worry, Super Scurry

Every morning I do very much the same thing. I walk out my front door, down the porch steps and out to my car parked in the driveway. The car is parked in the driveway because, like most American families, there is no room in the garage. Somehow we have had it placed in our minds that a garage is not actually for automobiles but for a wide variety of "stuff" we think we need but in reality will be bought by yard sale vultures. "Yes, I paid $2000 for that treadmill but for you, my friend, I will sell it for 50 cents!"

My walk to the car is always uneventful. Today...was different.

Crossing the driveway to my car stood a penguin in the way of my normal path. I stopped in front of him and looked down, because penguins are kinda short. He wore a bowler style hat, carried an untitled book under his right wing and held a blue balloon in his left. With dark beady eyes he looked up at me and said, "Beware, BEWARE!"

I walked around him to my car and got in the drivers seat. As I began to start the engine I looked back at him. He had turned around and stared at me again with those dark beady eyes. "Beware, BEWARE!" he urged me.

On the freeway another car began to pass me on my left side. It slowed down so that it was beside me going the same speed. I looked over and saw the same penguin with those dark beady eyes behind the window of the passenger side. He was once again mouthing the same words while holding the book and balloon, "Beware, BEWARE!" I sped up and moved away from him.

This same event happened on the sidewalk on my way to my building ("Beware, BEWARE!"), in the hallway to my office ("Beware, BEWARE!"), and the penguin sat in one of the chairs from across me ("Beware, BEWARE!"). All the while he wore a bowler style hat, held onto a untitled book and blue balloon.

Finally, while taking a break, I went into the bathroom. There, standing on the floor, was the penguin with his dark beady eyes, bowler style hat, untitled book, and blue balloon. Once again he warns, "Beware, BEWARE!" I did my business, washed my hands, and headed out the door. Blocking my way to the door was the penguin, "Beware, BEWARE!"

I took out a pen and popped his balloon. Then I pushed open the door and walked around him. Looking back I saw him stare helplessly at the remains of the balloon. Was that a tear forming in his eye? I shrugged and continued on to go back to work.

I have never seen the penguin with the dark beady eyes, bowler style hat, untitled book, and blue balloon again.

I Want to Ride it Where I Like

Hey Mr. Mountain Bike. From where did you come and to where do you go?

With your baggy blue jeans clamped on the right cuff with a shiny band you must be going somewhere important. When you get there do they appreciate how hard you peddled drawing buckets of sweat underneath your Dicks Sporting Goods backpack? I bet they don't know how difficult it was to find a clean red t-shirt that fits snuggly around your bulged out gut. But you did, and it smells so fine.

Those cycling gloves must give you some serious traction to those handlebars. I bet they even keep bugs off your hands so that when you get to the place you will soon arrive you can shake hands free of worry that no bugs will be harmed in the process.

Your Schwinn is tightly chained to the bike rack with a nice silver lock. No one will steal that machine because it is so secure. Why even try? There is respect among bike thieves for those who own such equipment. There is an invisible barrier that has an alarm which shouts, "BACK OFF SCUM!"

I see you unlock your treasure and swing your leg over the nice, fake, leather seat. I see you do it again since the first try banged your leg into seat because you can't get your leg up high enough. The third try knocks your silver cuff band off which lands about 10 feet away. After putting the band back on, I see the determination on your face that the fourth time will work. YES! The fourth time is your true friend!

As you sit on the seat your tires flatten out a bit due to the weight they suddenly find themselves under. Your right foot, the one with the silver cuff band, places itself on the raised peddle and you push off. The ride is a little shaky at first but you gain control and, I am sure, confidence.

Off you go Mr. Mountain Bike!! Go off to your destination and be one with the wind!!

(Yo Punk Tell Him Why...) The Milk is Spoiled!!

There is a door in a discrete alcove off of the main hallway where I work. In this area there are two doors both labeled with a little human stick figure. There is one figure with a dress and one without a dress. After some serious deductive reasoning I came to the conclusion these were bathrooms. They were definitely not just any old bathrooms either, they once belonged exclusively to executives in a day long before my peon life came to be. I believe the executives would go in and frolic in fields of daisies wearing only frond leaves. But that is just conjecture.

On the door with the stick figure wearing the dress a new sign was added recently that peaked my curiosity. The sign boldly proclaims, "Lactation Room".

I am not a smart man but I do know what goes on in a room like this. Immediately I went to the store. I came back to that secretive alcove in the hallway and knocked on the door showing the stick figure wearing a dress. The "Lactation Room" sign slid open and an eye on the other side asked, "Did Scooby Doo Velma?" I answered, "Only on weekends with Shaggy."

The little opening closed but the door opened. In the room were 3 men wearing dresses eating a plate of brownies and drinking gallons of milk straight out of the carton as they watched the Simpsons.

You have no clue how close to heaven this really is.

Address 3rd Trash Can From the Left

At work I have a daily ritual. The interesting thing it does not involve actually "working". I come into my office, sit at my desk, and it begins.

I swivel my chair to the left and hit the small trash can with my left foot. Once again, the cleaning lady emptied my trash and then placed the can under the front of my desk rather than the preferred location under the back of my desk. The back of the desk is much more convienent for me because my left foot would not be knocking it over as I swivel my chair to the left. I could try swiveling to the right, but that would not help me get out of my office very well. Or, I could continue swiveling to the right almost 360 degrees but my right foot would eventually make contact with the trash can. My right foot doesn't like touching trash cans.

I have left a note for the cleaning lady asking her to, "¡Mueva por favor la cesta del desecho a la espalda del escritorio!" To this point, nothing has changed.

So this morning I sat down at my desk, swiveled to the left, and knocked over my trash can. Somehow this felt comforting...somehow.