Get rid of it...

Words that need to be struck from your vocabulary, like now:
basically, actually, um and ad 'whatever'. You're an idiot who can't talk or type, cram it already.

Do not tell me we've had a discussion when it's based off of a text message. That ain't talking. That, to me, is barely a form of communication, one step above grunting like a caveman. Granted, grunting made for a hell of a platform for Tim Allen, but it doesn't give me the warm & fuzzies.

Now, for the reason and the tone of this blog, it's real simple. Those that have read this on some type of 'regular' basis know the meaning of Front St. Others, allow me to introduce you to a concept you may know something about, may have heard of-in some other form-or it may be completely foreign to you. What is Front St.? It's a place where the truth lives, and it's a fantastic neighborhood, but a place that quite a few, hell-most-folks think is a bad place. I happen to think it's a gem, and can't wait until more good folks move in. That means, however, that you have to stop lying and bullshittin', not only to others, but more importantly, to yourself. Another way you may have heard about Front St., in some form, is a phrase I have adopted-"Fuck keeping it real, I keep it right." If you have a hard time with this concept, really do yourself a favor and just quit reading this blog and potentially start to question if you ever want to read a damn thing I write ever again. And I'm dead serious.

So why the turn to Front St.?
Oh, sit back and enjoy the ride. I will allow you all into my little world of noticing the stupidity and classlessness of people whenever I manage to walk out the door. Oh, that and my whole week started off way wrong due to me not sleeping on Sunday. Stupid brain wouldn't stop, and I had a soda after 8. Yup, the joys of rarely drinking soda and being 34 sometimes sure do suck, but I slept damn well yesterday, so you can't pin anything as me being mean due to lack of sleep.
On Monday a friend of mine had a viewing of his Dad at a funeral home. I do not disrespect the dead (well, except Ted Kennedy), but what I walked into kinda irked me. Look, I know where I grew up has a lot to do with how I am, but I'm pretty sure that if I grew up somewhere else, west of the Mississippi, that my parents would have instilled in me the same morals and values that I hold so dear to me today. I don't know how you go to a wake or a funeral, but I sure as hell know how I roll-and that's in a suit and tie. What was everyone else wearing? Jeans, shorts, flip flops, untucked button down shirts....read that again. I asked my buddy if he was going out, because he had on jeans and a going out clubbing shirt. Are you serious? I was and still am baffled. Here's how bad it was, and let me state that after you read this part, no, I'm not kidding: I was about to leave, when my buddy's Uncle walked up to me and said, "Thank you so much for taking your time with him. He's never looked better." Wait, this guy thinks that..yup, I'm the mortician!!! Why would he think that? Oh, because the only other guy in a suit is the damn funeral home director. I didn't flinch and said 'Thank you'. Now ain't the time to go correcting people. And I have no issue taking credit for someone else's work (and they say I can't fit in with the new breed of workers-ha!), at least not in this case. I walked out of the funeral home and and my buddy was behind me when I started chuckling. He asked me why, I told him the whole thing and he laughed his ass off. He then went on to tell me that thru all this stuff, he's impressed that that is the way I show up to things (lemme ask you this, would you rather show up overdressed or underdressed for something? Alrighty then), and that what I just told him will be his biggest memory of the day. Hey, anything to help.
But this goes to a more fundamental issue for me. How in the hell did we (yup, on my soapbox) as a people start to think that dressing like a slob to a wake or a funeral become acceptable? When my Mom, baby Brother and I had the wake for my Pops, I gave a few guys a mulligan, because they had just come from the job site to the early show (Before anyone gets a weird idea, Pops was cremated, there was no 'viewing', which the 3 of us deemed creepy. I have my own feelings on that whole thing that maybe one day I will share with those extremely close to me, but that ain't even making this blog posting), and the job site was like 4 blocks from the funeral home, and Pops was into maintenance work then. Those guys, to the 3 of us, got a pass. But Ma was dressed, I bought my baby Brother a suit, shirt, tie and shoes (side note-there is no better feeling than being able to do that for your family. Yes, the reason sucked, but I will forever be thankful that I was able to do that for him. And damn if the kid didn't just buy a suit off the rack and it fit, bastard) and he was more than presentable. Of course I was in a suit. And I shut my cell phone off...don't get me started about cell phones. I'd like to know when it became okay to treat the death of a loved one like the preamble to a Buffett concert? Oh, and fuck your flip flops, save those damn things for the shower at the gym or the beach, especially guys. Yo feet is nasty, put some damn sneakers on. Ladies, you're exempt, usually because you handle that stuff, and if I have to say it, fine-no flippy floppies to a damn funeral, alright? Damn! Fellas, you are required by decorum to at least wear a sport coat. Don't give me that "it's too hot" crap either. If my fat ass can handle it, so can yours. It's not like you're there all day, you walk in, sign a guest book, state your apology, share your story (or stories), say a prayer (if you do that sort of thing) and be on your way. You can't chuck on a suit or dress like you didn't just roll out of bed for a grand total of 2 hours, 3 tops?

On Tuesday, I got yet another job rejection. However, the rejection will go down as classic in my book. Why the rejection? My skillset on a certain ERP Software platform might be considered out-dated. Can we please add anymore levels of BS to that response? Now, for history purposes I will tell you that I haven't used this platform in 6 years, what can I say I got laid off. That and I didn't get a copy of said software platform as a parting gift, mostly because one doesn't exist and neither does a '-Lite' version for those that want to play at home. Better yet was the fact that during my interview I was told that this was an extremely customized version of said software...so what would be the difference if I came in completely cold or knowing the ins and outs of the software? If you've completely bastardized something, isn't it like looking at something new? At least I got the comforting comment that they really liked me and thought I could do the job...wait, what? Oh nevermind, that commute would've been 80 miles round trip, I ain't driving that long in traffic for a contract job with uptight people, anyways.

Oh, that and I snapped at someone. It was earned. Someone else with self-destructive tendencies wanted to call and complain to me. Sorry, I don't have any customer service awards, and you did this to yourself, so I have no sympathy, empathy or any other type of -pathy. You made your bed, lie in it. You made the decision, deal with the consequences. I am not here to bail you out of trouble, at least not this week. I'm all sold out of feeling sorry for others that fail to use any form of forethought. It's on a tiny shelf in the back, but like I said, I'm all out. Maybe there will be a new shipment in tomorrow, but since it's Shark Week, I doubt it.

Yesterday I was told that there are millions out of work. How does that help me? Can people just stop telling me stupid shit? Like when someone dies "it really puts things in perspective". No, it doesn't. Other than the perspective that I thought you were remotely intelligent yet you've managed to prove you're a dumbass. This whole millions of folks outta work? Thanks Captain Obvious, anything else you'd like to share? Hmmm-water's wet? The sky's blue? How about grass is green? Or the fact that it isn't greener on the other side (no kidding, it's dirt!)? Santa Claus ain't real? That a fat man can't get a humski in a mustang, even if it's a convertible? (Those that know my current living situation will laugh at that one, others may not get the reference, but I will share with any of you that story...and no, it's not about me, I'm not fat, I'm chubby, get it right).
So in light of that millions of people out of work comment, I'm going to use some liberal-speak so some of the dummies can understand it-Quit attempting to diminish my feelings. There, I said it. Better yet, please oh please stop with the one off bologna you all seem so fond of. I don't give a rats ass that while you neglected to notify me to be somewhere at some time you totally forgot to tell someone else some other inane shit. Stop it. Now. Sorry, but this is the portion of the show where I realize that at my sweet age of 34 just how many people are bs-ing not only me, but themselves. Knock it off and grow up. Be accountable. To yourself, first and foremost, and then you can be accountable to others. And stop saying sorry. That damn word has virtually lost all meaning to me, because it's no longer sincere. Or that other one-"I'm sorry you feel that way." Fuck you. Don't put it back on me because you screwed up. Own it and then apologize, that'll grab my attention. Once again I need to be damn near shocked into disbelief. And you know where all this crap comes from, too, don't you? Lawyers and Psychobabblers. Yeah, I said it. Shakespeare had it right. ("First, kill all the lawyers") And while I'm at it, tell me how you think the Feeler Nation has turned out. While I'm glad that some folks have gotten the help they needed (and I mean real Anger Management therapy, not hold your hands and discuss your problems or blame someone else for you being an asshole), I think that we've become a bunch of pussified slobs. Oh, that and you just have to accept certain things...uh, WRONG! Only thru the non-acceptance of things have we as a people (hell, as a nation) gotten some stuff done. Think I'm nuts? Fine. Then ask yourself how it is to have women vote or have someone with a better tan (apparently the term is 'black', I have no idea why, they're not black they're brown, from the boogie down (I swear on all things hip hop you better get that reference!)) is no longer considered 3/5 of a man, or hell, I'll go way back, that the earth isn't flat? I believe the words you are now looking for are 'Ta' and 'Da'.

My last little gripe is for those who live on their cell phones, the iPhones, new Droids, whatever. And that minute notice is this: BE IN THE DAMN MOMENT ALREADY!!! I'm dead serious. Quit looking at your phone while talking to me, at least have the common decency to excuse yourself. Etiquette and phone etiquette in particular have fallen off the planet. Get some manners, read Rogers Rules, I don't really care how you do it, but do it. You want to talk to me, fine, but the next person that calls me and then after 10 seconds has to click over to another line, you, you're getting hung up on. You called me, not the other way around. Oh, and a word to the wise, some of you will be getting shorter and shorter answers from me, because you can't possibly be bothered to have a conversation. No sweat, just don't have one then. Enjoy your 'friends' on facebook and all those stupid status updates. Believe me, no one cares. Well, no one but that girl or guy who is misinformed enough to think that you might be an item. When the hell did your facebook status reflect what is really going on? I caught myself two weeks ago telling someone that if their relationship wasn't on facebook it wasn't real. I was kidding, but I heard someone else say it yesterday, and they meant it!

My beard is gone
Why? Well, I initially grew the damn thing because it was my Playoff Beard. Then the playoffs were over, and I trimmed it down. And face it, most importantly, it wasn't lucky. The Bruins and the Celtics didn't win it all. The Red Sox look like the Pawtucket lineup or a wing of a hospital. Most importantly, I have received less phone calls about jobs than before I had the beard. So off it came yesterday. Oh, and I realized how damn old I looked in that thing on Wednesday night. Damn there was a ton of white in that thing. Sure, I looked fantastic, but fantastic for a guy who is 42...I ain't there yet! I'm more than alright with my age and standing, but no need to tack on 8 years here people.

Sports
Brett Fav-ruh is a cockknocker. There, I said that, too. Will he/won't he? Weren't we here-last summer? And the summer before? And now there are rumors on the internet (look this one up on your own, I refuse to link to it) that he sent pictures of his old man twig and giggleberries to someone. Uh, Brett? No one wants to see old guy junk. Hell, I don't want to see any other man's junk, nor do I spend a whole lot of free time staring at my own (and believe me, I have a LOT of free time). I hate this new 'sexting' thing, kinda gross, at least with the pictures. Now, the whole flirting over text, that's cool. But the picture thing has got to stop. Especially by old quarterbacks. Hey, look on the bright side (?), at least it wasn't an O-Lineman, right? Yikes!

Anyone else think that the Broncos front office is sitting at a Waffle House, drowning their collective sorrow in maple syrup? Sign a good guy to a fat contract, and then two weeks later he blows out a pectoral muscle, thus rendering the pass rush to nothing? Oh, and he was the sack leader in the NFL last year....no biggie. Damn!

So the Celtics sign Shaquille O'Neal. Oh, and they signed Jermaine O'Neal. This would be fantastic news if it were the offseason of the coming 2005 season. However, it's the coming 2011 season. Why would it be great if this were the 2005 offseason? Easy, check this box score from the 2004 All-Star game...some of those names sure do look familiar, don't they?

How pissed off do you think Laurence Fishburne is? Think he's nominated for Father of the Year at the AVN awards? I'm just askin'!!

As far as the rest of my life goes, right now, leave it alone. My life sounds like a shitty country song. It's not, but it just sounds like one. I'm laughing thru most of it. Why? Oh come on, this is hilarious. It would be one thing if I were a moron who wasn't trying all sorts of things to get employment. But I know different. This stuff is now becoming comical. I may just start going after jobs I know I can do in my sleep, just to screw around with interviews.

Happy Weekend, and have a blast out there.

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