27 Ways To Tell If You Are A Toxic Person

I’m was related to one. She fit a lot of these but is fortunately now gone. I lived though a lot of this and it’s not pretty.

“Am I toxic?”

Toxic is a word that’s thrown about a lot these days.

But how do you know if you are a toxic person?

What are some things that you might do that cause you to be a toxic influence in the lives of others?

That’s what we’re going to explore.

Speak to an accredited and experienced therapist to help with any negative personality traits you might have. You may want to try speaking to one via BetterHelp.com for quality care at its most convenient.

What Does It Mean To Be Toxic?

In the general sense of the word, something that is toxic is harmful to a person upon exposure.

A toxic person is one who causes harm to others through their words and actions.

There are varying levels of toxicity.

Some may just be bad behaviors, others can stem from personality disorders, and some may be rooted in a mental health disorder that can be physically damaging as well.

Toxic people leave others worse off than before they met or interacted with them.

Sometimes this harm is felt instantly. Other times, it builds slowly with time and repeated exposure.

With this in mind, how can you tell if you are the toxic person in your life?

Here are some of the signs you can look out for.

27 Signs You Are A Toxic Person

1. You are emotionally manipulative and controlling.

You seek to make others your pawns and have them do as you wish.

You boss people around, micromanage situations, and use various forms of emotional blackmail to ensure you get your own way.

Subtlety is not your forte. You can be very blunt and rude to the point where it shocks other people.

Alternatively, you may feign upset and use tears as a way to guilt people into doing what you want.

When other people realize this about you, they may experience anxiety whenever you are around for fear of being targeted.

If this is something you do to one individual a lot, it can even result in depression and the destruction of their self-confidence.

Click here for rest of the list. It is a bit too long for me to put it all here but I bet everyone that reads it has someone that fits this.

Woke Jedi? The Star Wars Geeks Are Not Going To Go For This

You’d think that Disney would learn from their mistakes (or at least Bud Light) but no…this.

Disney+ is taking more flak for crowbarring a them/them character into its latest Star Wars series.

The animated show Tales of the Empire, is made up of six shorts, with one of the episodes featuring a non-binary Jedi.

In a scene below, the they/them agrees to surrender to an Inquisitor, a character that hunts Jedi, just as another Inquisitor sneaks up from behind and attempts to kill the they/them.

You’d be forgiven for having missed it, given that there are so many crapped out Star Wars things now, that only someone with no social life at all can keep up with them.

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They can only shit on the story and the audience for so long before they kill it.

Job For Just One Day? Be A Super Hero

What’s a job you would like to do for just one day?

It would be cool to be Captain America or Superman for a day.

Having to wake up and save the world all the time would be too much responsibility, but it would be cool to be a bad ass and protect others.

Either that or be Captain Kirk.

Any time I Can Be Alone Is My Favorite Day

What is your favorite holiday? Why is it your favorite?

I’ve always had a problem with attention on me or the hustle and bustle of holidays.

It’s counterintuitive to me that people act one way because someone said a day is different and then revert back when it was over.

I learned that it’s because of my introverted nature that causes me to process things differently than others.

It’s why days alone to recharge are better for me. They are my vacation and holidays.

I never got birthdays either. It’s just another day for me. I prefer not being the center of attention.

I’m glad others get excited about it but it’s not for me.

Where Was This Teacher When I Was Growing Up?

Michelle Solis, 46, pled no contest after being accused of raping a 14-year-old student on the child’s eighth grade graduation day in 2021.

A press release from District Attorney Mike Ramsey indicated that Solis, who was a 20-year veteran educator, raped the 14-year-old inside a locked classroom on graduation day, Daily Mail reported. Solis also allegedly sent explicit photos to the boy which “made their way back to local parents,” facilitating the investigation by police.

Solis, who was the boy’s teacher at the middle school, “friended” him on Instagram a few weeks prior to his graduation. Records indicate that was the start of her inappropriate relationship in which she allegedly sent him four inappropriate images. Then, on the day of his graduation from Sycamore Junior High School in northern California, she raped him.”

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Not once did a teacher ever try this in any school that I knew of. Hell, I had a crush on my German teacher. Why didn’t she try it? She was about 25 at the time. I wouldn’t have fought back

Anything deep, I’m an introvert and avoid small talk.

What topics do you like to discuss?

I’m not afraid to discuss anything that’s interesting. I can cover a large range of topics and do when prompted.

What is difficult for me is small talk. The banality of it is a painful exercise that I have to go through.

So my talking skills are good with deep conversations and any distraction to end small talk and my having to suffer through it.

The Two Types Of People In An Introvert World

Most people are temporary because it takes a long time to get to know someone and it’s hard to find the traits that are important. Loyalty is usually the final demarcation line for me. If they cross it and are disloyal, it’s over for me.

Take my college girlfriend who turned out to be a traveling slut (stewardess). Even though I didn’t find out until afterwards that she was sharing herself with others, that eliminated her from the permanent people pool. I didn’t have to feel the hurt and pain during the relationship, but the dishonesty got me out the door early.

I had acquaintances all throughout my life, but it’s hard to call them friends. The extroverts in my life meet and talk to someone for more than 5 minutes and it’s their new friend. Those are just temporary people for me. It takes a long time and a lot of things in common before they make permanent status. Very few make it.

You have to build a relationship and that is hard enough for me (and I’m guessing other introverts). We’d have to share something in common long enough to see if there is anything there. It still takes a long time for the walls to come down. Then there is the trust tests. I don’t dream them up, but they present themselves in life. I’m usually forced into a situation, but you can tell if a person is going to stick with you or stick it to you.

Even my siblings were temporary. They are around, but don’t count for me as permanent people for the loyalty reason. One can only take so much screwing over growing up and then the walls come up.

There’s your thought for the day.

A much deeper dive can be found here. It is by Introvert Dear who I’ve linked to on the home page describing why introverts don’t consider everyone their friend. It is a special to us and this article tells you why a lot better than I do.

The times I didn’t say no

Write about a time when you didn’t take action but wish you had. What would you do differently?

It’s more than one time, but it’s the same thing. I got asked to do something, go somewhere or be with some people that I shouldn’t have.

It was about setting boundaries. I remember the feeling or not wanting to be there, we’re doing whatever we were doing, saying the things I said or being with the people I was with.

If I had learned to say no, instead of going with the crowd, a lot of things would’ve turned out differently. I would have gotten in a lot less trouble, not done as many stupid things and would have not been in situations I didn’t want to be in.

I learned the hard way to protect myself from these instances and people, and as a result of gotten in to a lot less trouble.

Admitting Failure

What makes you nervous?

I reached a point in life where I have learned enough that I shouldn’t make bad mistakes or faux pas, yet I do.

It’s difficult enough to express your real feelings, compounded by knowing you’ve let somebody else down is soul crushing sometimes.

I can make it worse by rehashing it in my mind over and over until the point I have to admit it or ask forgiveness.

Question For The Day – Describe a Decision You Made In The Past That Helped You Learn Or Grow

Describe a decision you made in the past that helped you learn or grow.

When I stopped caring what people thought of me. It was incredibly freeing when you don’t have to worry about your image in other people’s minds.

I heard of saying that went like this, “you’ll stop caring what other people think about you when you realize how little they do “.

Describe a positive thing of family member is done for you

Describe a positive thing a family member has done for you.

This is counterintuitive, but a sibling leaving was the most positive thing for me. Growing up, I had a sister that fought with my parents and caused all kinds of consternation in the house.

Fortunately, she got married early and when she left the house got quieter and all of our lives got better.

Describe some thing you learned in high school

Describe something you learned in high school.

The leaving it would be my favorite thing. I instinctively knew that my best days were ahead and that those who were stellar in high school had reached their peak. They were the Al Bundy’s who would re-live high school the rest of their lives.

I’d been stuck with these losers since kindergarten and getting away from them and the town was my introvert dream.

One of my favorite things in life is closing a chapter and never going back. It started with high school.

Describe one positive change you have made in your life

Describe one positive change you have made in your life.

When starting out in the business world I learned to see opportunities and I decided to walk through the right door.

I also ended a bad relationship from college freeing me up to get ahead. After finding out that she was cheating afterwards it confirmed that I was making the right decisions

Attachment Anxiety – A New Psychosis For Shit Happened To You In Life That You Want To Blame On Others

This is a common reflex in modern life—convincing ourselves that we are sick instead of reacting to something. It’s not your diet or lack of exercise; it’s depression. It’s not trauma from sexual assault; it’s BPD. It’s not the insane intensity of modern life; it’s ADHD. Honestly it’s bizarre how many of these are you anxiously attached?

I’ll post an excerpt from the rest of the story, but this is the same stuff the rest of us went through in life and we learned to deal with it. Stop blaming others and realize that not everything works out. You should feel lucky that it doesn’t. Thank God I’m not stuck with the list of people that turned out to be losers in my past. I’m grateful I don’t have to put up with their crap.

Grow up and learn to live your life instead of the last 5 seconds.

They need to stop giving these girls another thing to obsess over and let them live normal lives. Here’s my advice, stay off of social media and watch how fast you get better.

Here’s the rest, if you dare/care.

This is the relevant quote: That attachment theory can sometimes mask real problems and, like much else in modern life, encourage women to go inwards too much and obsessively self-scrutinise.

Lately it feels as if everything depends on me figuring out my attachment style. If I want professional success I need to recognise my childhood patterns and reparent myself. If I want to maintain friendships I first have to heal my inner child. And for any chance of a successful relationship I need to prioritise processing my trauma and assessing our attachment styles.

Attachment theory is very popular among Gen Z. The theory dates back to the 1950s, based on research by psychologists John Bowlby and Mary Ainsworth. Ainsworth identified three main attachment styles: secure, anxious and avoidant, after assessing children’s responses to separation and reunion with their caregivers. Generally, those with anxious attachment tend to be needy and seek reassurance, avoidants are more distant and independent, while secures are confident and comfortable.

Since then it’s become popular to apply attachment theory to adult relationships—especially online. There’s the #attachmenttheory TikToks with over 300 million views. There’s every kind of attachment quiz you could conceive of (“Your Attachment Style Is Based On Harry Potter Characters”!) As well as attachment therapists, attachment podcasts, dating apps based on attachment styles, even Little Miss Anxious Attachment T-shirts. But most concerning to me are the online forums. Forums filling up with what seems like mostly young women ruminating about their relationships and analysing how anxious they are.

The more popular this gets, the more I’m starting to see problems with it. My main worry is that we might be deceiving ourselves.

Happy National Sibling Day

I know mine made my life a lot harder than it needed to be growing up. When we could have bonded, I got someone who was actively against me doing well, instead of being supportive. It must have been insecurity, but trying to bring someone down to build yourself up is no way to live.

My other sibling has been gone for 12 years. We didn’t grow up together and there was no bonding because she was pathological. It’s a good thing I found out how to be alone in life and not worry about others.

See Eating Alone as an Introvert a couple of posts down and you’ll know why.

How Often Do You Say “No” To Things That Would Interfere With Your Goals? Not Enough

How often do you say “no” to things that would interfere with your goals?

I’ve only learned later in life to prioritize myself for my mental sanity. A lot of my life growing up was not saying no enough it was a price I paid while growing up.

The goal I think of here is trying to set boundaries. If I’d have done it earlier in life, a lot of crap I deal with now wouldn’t be still bothering me.

‘Gender Science’ Was Merely Ideology All Along

Did you hear the news? England’s National Health Service (NHS) has decided that children diagnosed with gender dysphoria will no longer receive puberty blockers because “there is not enough evidence to support the safety or clinical effectiveness … to make the treatment routinely available at this time.

Childrens books on gender in Irvine, Calif., on Sept. 7, 2022. (John Fredricks/The Epoch Times)

The premier of Alberta, Canada, is planning legislation to restrict “gender-affirming” surgeries such as mastectomies for minors and puberty blockers for youth aged 15 and under. Other socially liberal nations have also hit the brakes on “gender affirmation,” in children, including Norway, Finland, France, Denmark, Sweden, and New Zealand. So have a score of American states.

Why did it take so long for common sense to return to this contentious issue? Blame the cultural imperialism of gender ideologues who, while most of us were not paying attention, successfully instituted “treatment guidelines” that focused almost exclusively on “affirming” a child’s gender confusion as medically necessary, while branding the more cautious approach of deeply exploring the mental health issues that could have contributed to the patient’s confusion as “transphobic,” and, even, likely to drive gender-confused children to suicide.

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Kids can’t decide what they want to eat. It’s the grown ups who are forcing this on them

General Mills Poisoning Kids

A new report is raising concerns over General Mills’ new cereal line after testing revealed that Trix LOADED cereal is literally loaded with high levels of heavy metals and agrochemicals.

General Mills, Inc. on Feb. 1 launched “LOADED,” a new cereal line with “puffed-up larger-than-life squares” of General Mills’ Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Trix, and Cocoa Puffs cereals filled with artificially flavored vanilla creme. Trix LOADED boasts 17 grams of whole grain per serving and 12 vitamins and minerals. Yet testing by Moms Across America (MAA), an organization dedicated to educating and empowering others to create healthy communities, found the artificially flavored creme-filled breakfast food also contains measurable levels of aluminum, cadmium, arsenic, lead, mercury, glyphosate, and pesticides shown to be harmful to humans.

In a statement to The Epoch Times, MAA director Zen Honeycutt said her organization tested two samples of General Mills’ Trix LOADED cereal because they were alarmed that the company, which had previously seemed very committed to supporting regenerative organic agriculture, launched a cereal “loaded with creme, food dyes, and highly-processed foods.”

Pesticides Found in General Mills’ Trix LOADED Cereal

In test results obtained by MAA, scientists found residues from eight different pesticides in both samples of Trix LOADED cereal.

The following six pesticide residues were found in trace amounts:

  • Imazalil-1
  • Metconazole-1
  • Pyraclostrobin-1
  • Pyrimethanil-1
  • Pyriproxyfen-1
  • Tebuconazole-1

Two pesticides, piperonyl butoxide-1 (PBO) and fluopyram-1, were detected in higher amounts. Fluopyram-1 is a broad-spectrum fungicide that can cause liver problems, endocrine disruption, and thyroid cancer.

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What’s your secret skill?

What’s a secret skill or ability you have or wish you had?

I have spatial awareness and can see how things fit together. Also, as an introvert, I can read people through their body language I’ve had these all my life, but became cutely aware of them as I grew older.

What Activities Do You Lose Yourself In?

What activities do you lose yourself in?

Let’s see, over the years it’s been fishing, hunting, karate, racing, tennis, Biking, and then there was kids and Life, and other stuff, and the next thing I knew I’ve lived in seven decades. I mostly do introvert stuff now so I get lost in my mind a lot.

My Youth: Church League Softball Fistfight, Nickle Beer And Denny’s Grand Slam

After graduating from high school, a group of us decided to play in an organized softball league. Our choice at that time was down to church league softball. While we played and did OK, which I’ll talk about later, the extracurricular activities were more interesting. It’s later on in the post.

Our team was part of of the same group who lost almost every game in church league basketball, mostly because we were a bunch of white guys thinking we could play. There were some people who resembled athletes on this team. My roommate George and I both played tennis for our colleges, but that didn’t qualify us as good softball players. We had a couple of players who were little league stars, but as a group we weren’t that good.

Before I get started, this is a good lead in to the story.

We didn’t have a fistfight, at least on our team, but it did happen, between two other teams, both of which we played. A lot of other growing up stuff did happen though.

We were in that stage of just being out of high school, but growing up late and were starting to experiment with life. We also weren’t the star players on the baseball team either.

I guess we started out serious. We had just enough people for a team, All Saints Episcopal (we would be anything but Saints). I don’t remember if we had a team name, but it wouldn’t have been the Yankees. Misfit’s would have been more accurate. If anyone bailed, we’d have to forfeit. It was close some days whether enough guys would show up, but we managed to play the season. Of the nine guys, I think we had 4 that who actually played organized baseball. They put up with the lack of skills by the rest of us.

We picked positions and somehow I got 3rd base, far too close to home and a position I’d never played before. I’m pretty sure I was the kid in right field in my one year foray in little league at 7 years old. After a few practices, we thought we were ready to play and tear up the league. I think we believed the same thing in the basketball failure a few years earlier when we won 1 game all season.

In the first game, damn near the first batter of the year, a hard grounder was hit right to me. I was as shocked as anyone when I fielded it. I turned and fired a throw to the first baseman about 5 feet above his head. Since this was over 40 years ago now, I can’t remember whether we won or not. I’m pretty sure we lost as we did a lot of that.

In a subsequent game, another batter hit a line shot and I stuck my glove up and actually caught it. I was as surprised as anyone on the field, but had the sense of awareness to look like I meant to do it.

What saved us in a lot of games was enough singles by us to get batters on, but count on our big sticks, Pat and Mark Greene, Chris Patterson and an occasional lucky hit by others to score enough runs to overcome the errors in the field. Occasionally, we’d actually pull off a great play like a throw from deep left to home to get the runner out. Since the catcher never played before, it was a crap shoot whether he’d catch it or not and that we got the out surprised everyone on the field. He was a Dad who was a good sport to put up with us. He had no idea what we did off the field and was as (in)capable as the rest of us on the field (barely).

We’d go on to be about a .500 team. Being a church league, we were fortunate to face groups of people without any little league players who were actually worse than us, or a forfeit.

In the last game of the season against St Margaret Mary, my parents finally came to see me play. They had Ryan Sanderson on the other side, who was a starter at the University of Florida. Ryan also starred at our high school and it would be like playing pick up basketball with Michael Jordan on the other team. Ever at bat went over the fence.

I hit my only homer of the season in that game, in front of my Dad. It was a perfect ending to my only year of somewhat organized softball. Our team went on to hit 16 homers in that game and lost. The other team hit over 20. I’m sure Ryan had at least 5, or how ever many times he got up to bat. Hitting one out in front of my parents overshadowed the loss. Plus, the following made us forget everything.

EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES

On the field, we’d try stupid stuff like our first foray’s into chewing tobacco thinking we would be like the big leagues. I remember putting a wad of Red Man into my mouth and heading out to third. By mid inning, I was spitting everything I could and dying for the inning to end so that I could get that shit out of my mouth without embarrassing myself in front of my friends. We routinely had macho contests to prove our masculinity and I couldn’t fail at this in public.

Here’s Robert Earl Keen on dipping snuff, funny song

Fortunately, it was a quick inning and I escaped embarrassment as well as losing my dinner.

After it became clear that we weren’t going to the world series, our other adventures in life crept in. We decided that it would be a good idea to get high before the games and see if we could play. Mark Imhoof who was a regular user provided the goods and the bong. He was the kid who got high in High School, had long hair and a van. He was a good player and the friend of someone else on the team, but he never went to our church. Come to think of it, most of the rest of us had stopped going to church by then also. Since I was high, I’m sure we didn’t play our best, but by then we didn’t really care as much. We came out of that van like Cheech and Chong, trailing smoke.

My roommate George and I lived in his parents house. It was my first home away from home. His parents were missionaries in Guatemala at the time. When the cat’s away, we were the mice. It was the place our friends from the team came to to do stuff they couldn’t do when they were in town and at their parents, meaning drinking and getting high. Many of us lost our virginity there, to the same girl on different nights in different rooms in the house.

AFTER THE GAME

Being a church league team, we celebrated after the game spiritually by going to wherever the pitchers of beer were the cheapest. I recall one dive called the Copper Top. We also went to the Steak Out where you got free Sangria with an order of a steak tough enough to wear as a desert boot. I’m sure they lost money on us given what we drank and we’d go out afterwards for more. We finally got kicked out and got banned from coming back.

There was always beat the clock at Big Daddy’s. If you know the game, the price goes up after a certain time, so you drink as fast as you can at first to keep the price down. We were in college working for minimum wage at the time ($2.00). The beginning price was a nickel a beer and it doubled every half hour. I was hammered by the first tick of the clock as were the rest of the team.

On the off chance that we played on Wednesday, it was also nickle beer night at Rosie O’Grady’s in downtown Orlando.

Nevertheless, a healthy activity sponsored by a religious organization turned into a night of us getting fucked up. I don’t think I had early classes, but I missed them if I did.

That of course led to…

LATE NIGHT GREASE TO SOAK UP THE ALCOHOL

We hit a number of places. Back then, the Grand Slam was $1.99, affordable and enough food to soak up some of the beer before bed.

The other place was Krystal’s. I think the burgers were a nickle there also. It became a dick measuring contest to see how many you could eat. I topped out at 11, but Marc Greene regularly at 25 and went over 30 on some nights. I was in awe of him being an eating machine.

In the end, we only lasted that one season. We were kind of done when we started getting high before the games.

I lost track of most of the players. George and I wound up being best men at each other’s weddings and today are still friends. He transferred out of state to another college and I moved on campus at mine. We never went back to that church again, except for my parents funerals.

Growing up comes in many flavors. This was just the start of my fucking up in life. I had many adventures to come that made this tame.

Google will no longer back up the Internet: Cached webpages are dead

I for one am glad. I’m old enough that most of my fucking up in life was before the internet and only I really know the story of my misdeeds and untoward activity.

A lot of people say stupid shit online, or brag about stuff they shouldn’t to show off or get likes. Until now, the internet was forever. It may still be if you search hard enough, but Google is evil and presents the worst of behavior easily. Now, the idiots may be protected.

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Google will no longer be keeping a backup of the entire Internet. Google Search’s “cached” links have long been an alternative way to load a website that was down or had changed, but now the company is killing them off. Google “Search Liaison” Danny Sullivan confirmed the feature removal in an X post, saying the feature “was meant for helping people access pages when way back, you often couldn’t depend on a page loading. These days, things have greatly improved. So, it was decided to retire it.”

The feature has been appearing and disappearing for some people since December, and currently, we don’t see any cache links in Google Search. For now, you can still build your own cache links even without the button, just by going to “https://webcache.googleusercontent.com/search?q=cache:” plus a website URL, or by typing “cache:” plus a URL into Google Search. For now, the cached version of Ars Technica seems to still work. All of Google’s support pages about cached sites have been taken down.

Cached links used to live under the drop-down menu next to every search result on Google’s page. As the Google web crawler scoured the Internet for new and updated webpages, it would also save a copy of whatever it was seeing. That quickly led to Google having a backup of basically the entire Internet, using what was probably an uncountable number of petabytes of data. Google is in the era of cost savings now, so assuming Google can just start deleting cache data, it can probably free up a lot of resources.

Cached links were great if the website was down or quickly changed, but they also gave some insight over the years about how the “Google Bot” web crawler views the web. The pages aren’t necessarily rendered like how you would expect. In the past, pages were text-only, but slowly the Google Bot learned about media and other rich data like javascript (there are a ton of specialized Google Bots now). A lot of Google Bot details are shrouded in secrecy to hide from SEO spammers, but you could learn a lot by investigating what cached pages look like. In 2020, Google switched to mobile-by-default, so for instance, if you visit that cached Ars link from earlier, you get the mobile site. If you run a website and want to learn more about what a site looks like to a Google Bot, you can still do that, though only for your own site, from the Search Console.

click above for more, but I think you get the drift

Pop Tarts Inventor Died

William “Bill” Post — the man who created the beloved toaster treat Pop-Tarts — died on Saturday, his family announced. He was 96.

Post, a Michigan native and son of immigrants who worked his way up from a truck washer to a senior vice president, brightened millions of Americans’ mornings with the sweet pastry that hit the shelves in 1964.

The great-grandfather is often credited with inventing the breakfast treat, though he would always say it was a team effort, according to his obituary.

Post was raised in Grand Rapids as one of seven children of Dutch immigrants. He married his high school sweetheart, Florence Schut, and served in the Army Air Corps in occupied Japan.

Story

I ate them, but it wasn’t the staple it was for my kids. Knowing what I know now about diets, I’d have never given them to the kids, but when you are working on a couple of hours of sleep and you’ll do anything to get food in your kids before school…..pop tarts.

Who Remembers These?

In grade school, we made bags for all the kids to put in a Valentines card for everybody in class. It was before we were old enough to have gf/bf and before the woke ruined everything it touched because some kid didn’t get one.

We’d get a pack of 30 of these at the five and dime and then sign your name on them and put one in the bags.

As I look back on this, I have no idea if I got one from every kid or not. I never checked. I bet every girl made sure they got one though. The girls understood social stuff way before the guys did.

I recall it being a tedious task because just like now, I didn’t really care that much about others socially. I knew they weren’t really all my friends, and this would prove to be true in life as I went to school with these kids as much as 21 year for some (kindergarten through college). 

Puberty hadn’t set in and we (they) hadn’t started imposing the caste system of have’s and have not’s on kids based on looks, sports ability or general group hate. Kids are mean.

Fortunately, I kept to myself and stayed on the sidelines on this, but I knew then what I know now. That is the life of an introvert. As soon as the bags were opened and you looked at the cards, no one cared anymore. I saw this in advance. It’s why I had no clue whether to see if I got one from everyone, or even to check.

It’s why now if I give a gift, I meant it. Conversely, if you didn’t get one, I meant that also. I could never really deny my feelings to fit in. I just didn’t want to and knew it wasn’t worth it.

As soon as we didn’t make the bags, I didn’t give the card.

As I grew older though, my girlfriends all got good gifts from me while they were around. On the other hand, I don’t recall ever getting a good VD gift. Not even VD on VD.

images from Mike Miles

The Peel Me An Orange And Ketchup Challenge, It’s Just Another Shit Test By Girls To Ruin Relationships – Oh, Happy Valentines Day Also

Since the beginning of time, girls invent childish shit tests to see what they can make you do to prove your love. Once you are not willing to do stupid stuff and are confident in yourself, you can have an actually good relationship. It happens when you kick these types of girls to the curb immediately. It will save you a lot of time, trouble and social media BS. Once you realize that they can’t hold their nookie over your head, you can then be adults about it as girls have no other leverage. As I told one ex when kicking her out, there is no golden pussy.

These are invented by assholes on Tik Tok to poison girls into thinking this is love. It is much deeper than this type of relationship control, but nevertheless…….

Here goes:

Would You Dump Someone If They Didn’t Peel An Orange

Like one of those secretly mordant fairy tales about mermaids sacrificing their fins or maidens poisoned and sleeping forever, there is apparently a new test to tell if love is true: fetch and denude me an orange.

The gist: If your partner strips the rind off the citrus and serves it to you with kindness, then their love is for real. If your partner refuses, then this love is hollow and false, and you must now make a deal with a sea witch or reenter the dating pool. This deeply unscientific experiment, known colloquially as the orange peel theory/test/trend, is usually administered by heterosexual women on their male partners. And because of its simplicity and clarity, and social media’s penchant for anything that creates a reaction, the test has gone viral on TikTok.

Some videos of men peeling or not peeling oranges for their partners have millions of views. Millions!

Does separating citrus from its skin really indicate true love? What happened to building the Taj Mahal or, you know, buying some diamonds? Should women carry a mandarin around at all times just to be sure?

“An entire intimate relationship can’t be boiled down to what a partner does or doesn’t do with an orange,” says Alexandra Solomon, a psychologist and author who teaches at Northwestern University and specializes in relationships. As Solomon explains, one does not need to throw a romantic partner away like an orange rind because they did not peel a fruit in a pleasant way.

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What TikTok’s ‘Ketchup Challenge’ Actually Says About Your Relationship

At first glance, the viral social media trend known as the “ketchup challenge” may sound like TikTok’s latest household hack, involving cleaning with the common condiment. And while cleaning is (kind of) part of it, the actual aim appears to be secretly testing a romantic partner.

Similar to the “orange peel theory,” the ketchup challenge is being used as a relationship test of sorts, in which one person (usually a woman) intentionally squirts some ketchup on the kitchen counter or a table, then asks their partner (usually a man) to clean it up. Naturally, the whole thing is captured on video and posted to TikTok or Instagram, where commenters are able to weigh in on the man’s ability—or lack thereof—to effectively clean a simple mess, rather than smearing it around, making it worse.

Clearly, this is about much more than ketchup, but out of all the relationship “challenges” floating around online, what about this one has struck a nerve? Two clinical psychologists specializing in relationships explain.

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Oh, and by the way, Happy Valentines Day tomorrow. Don’t fall for these and if you get this from your girl, you’re better off dumping her rather than suffering a minute longer with a child who resorts to this low level of immaturity. She reads too much social media online, another red flag for you

It’s just another indication that social media ruins a lot of what it touches and the most vulnerable fall for it first.

Ole Miss Football Hires GM With Funniest Name Since Noah Knigga: REPORT

Lane Kiffin and the University of Mississippi are reportedly hiring former Texas Longhorns personnel guy Billy Glasscock to be the team’s general manager, per ESPN’s Chris Low, and I honestly haven’t laughed this hard since Noah Knigga burst onto the college football scene.

Glasscock spent three years as a player personnel operator for Texas and previously served in similar roles at NC State and the University of Minnesota, per Low.

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I’ll bet he had a hard time in grade school

Here’s A Headline You Don’t Read Every Day: Excessively farting passenger forces American Airlines flight to turn around

An American Airlines plane was reportedly forced to return to the gate due to high wind — a “disgruntled” passenger’s smelly farts.

The big stink over the flatulent flyer unfolded while a recent flight from Phoenix, Arizona, to Austin, Texas, was still on the ground, according to a viral Reddit post.

“Before most people had boarded, I observed that this man was audibly disgruntled about something, maybe hungover, rough day idk, but as soon as he sat down he was grumbling about something under his breath, like ‘f—ing hell’ or something,” user lamgalatx wrote.

After the majority of passengers had boarded, the man reportedly exclaimed: “You thought that was rude? Well how about this smell” — and proceeded to pass gas.

“(I don’t know) what provoked that comment, and while kinda funny to overhear, it was uncalled for especially coming from a grown man on an airplane nonetheless,” the user wrote.

But the excessively farting passenger’s gross behavior didn’t end there.

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I’m more of a crop duster when I have to unleash. I want everyone to share and then wonder which one of their neighbors let it fly.

This Is Life As An Introvert

Small talk is one of the more tiring things for introverts,. I avoid that situation at every chance. I love a deep conversation, but once someone starts in on how their day went in minute detail, I can’t help but turn into my own world and wish the conversation to be over as quickly as possible.

The other is ice breakers. Tell us something about yourself. Um, I don’t like to talk about myself, how’s that?

I’d hold it before I’d go just to not talk to not be here. This is at a Dr.’s office though. I see the door where you pass the piss sample in the cup

If I say call me, it’s because I’m betting you won’t. I’m tossing over the fence for you to make the move. I wouldn’t call either way. A cryptic text at best that doesn’t leave much of a window to respond.

My Message To My Younger Self

I suppose everyone says this. I can’t change anything so I’m not going to try to. I’m just trying to enjoy these times. If I’d told myself what to do/not do, it would have turned out different. It might have changed the whole space/time continuum, and I don’t want to tempt God or the Sci Fi world.

Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery and the present is gone in an instant.

Happy World Introvert Day

May we celebrate together, but alone and separately. Talk to you tomorrow because I’m not talking today.

It’s my favorite holiday after just suffering through Christmas and New Years. I can be alone today. Somewhere out there (although probably quiet) my fellow souls finally have some joy. It’s doubtful others will hear about it as we don’t boast, and other times you can’t get a word in edge wise for all the yapping.

I know and so do others.

PS, I’m not an INFJ.

This next one is me. I’m always in the back, next to the door so I can leave if I need to escape or panic

A Life Lesson About Tomorrows. How Many Are Left?

What does tomorrow mean to us? I thought about that today. It occurred to me that I don’t have as many tomorrows left. As endless as they used to be, I’d grab at a new handful of them. For now, I’m glad to have the next one. They grow fewer every day (sorry, I had to put that in)

Young

When I was young, I never thought about tomorrow. It always came. Some took forever like when I cared about my birthday, and others flew by.

When something has an endless supply, the value is less. It’s economics. I never considered that I’d be working, or retired, or would have kids, a mortgage or any responsibility. Live for today. It was all about today. I had no real yesterday’s to learn from yet.

If I did think about tomorrow, it was the kid dream about being an astronaut or pilot (what I thought about).

That was so long ago and the days between now and then are so numerous that it seems, like another life for me. I’ve lived many different lives within the one I chronologically am still in.

School

I recall sitting in the classroom watching the clock ticking away. Tick, tick, tick towards when I’d be able to go home. Time was endless on those days, and this was just between 2 and 2:15 in elementary school. The only good tomorrow started on Friday.

By the time I got to college, I was aware that life was right around the corner. Still, I enjoyed the day without a care. I ignored that inevitable tomorrow. When it came, it was in the form of an exam, or a girlfriend or another event in life. It was finite and had little consequence as to what my next day held. Still, I had no real cares and a lot of what tomorrow brought was a new experience.

Letdowns started to happen, but the ocean of tomorrows never crossed my mind as I did stupid stuff. I think I lost a few tomorrows by taking too many risks. Somehow I survived and was able to live to the next day, always another tomorrow. It was expected.

Responsibility Years

Life marched on and I grew up, bought a home and started a family. Tomorrows always came, but now they came with other’s problems also. It wasn’t the carefree days when your kid is sick or in trouble. I didn’t have time to think about tomorrow as today brought 10 tons of manure in a 5 ton truck.

So much is happening in your life you take tomorrow for granted or you are too busy to think about anything but today. If you do, those thoughts are invaded with things you have to get done or do for others.

I did notice one thing. I was starting to have a lot of yesterday’s. Some of them happy and some sad. There were lessons learned on both.

The ocean of tomorrows was still seemingly full as it (now) quickly drained away.

Deaths

The first reminders of fewer tomorrows happened here. Those you used to know have run out of tomorrows.

When you are young, say at a grandparents funeral, you can’t comprehend time not being endless for you. By middle age, you know it is closer, but most choose to ignore the reality of time slipping away.

Growing Older

Rarely, do tomorrows bring something new to me. Occasionally, I get a different version of something I’ve been through. I have many more yesterdays now than the number of tomorrows remaining.

The kids are grown. The mortgage is paid off. I no longer work. I’m among the oldest of my relatives now. It brought me to how many tomorrows there will be. Among those, how many will be good or bad? Will there be tough times?

I try to enjoy the days, even if the tasks are mundane. I have less patience for things that don’t seem meaningful to me. My meaningful scale has changed dramatically over life.

From time to time (becoming far too common), people I know run out of their tomorrows. As I sit at the funerals, life comes into perspective for me, at least the part on Earth.

Tomorrows aren’t endless. You only come with so many. Some have more than others and some enjoy them more than others.

Most of life’s struggles are over, except what happens when the tomorrow’s are running out.

Here’s hoping for another tomorrow, and that it doesn’t suck for me.

Not This Year Santa, Not After All The Other Reindeer Were Jerks

Elevators, Awkward X 1000 When Talking Or Farting

Everyone has that one friend. In my high school, his name was Rick. For some reason, his stomach did more than ours did and when he farted, it cleared the room. One time, we were outside waiting for a concert and he let one fly. Even in the open air the crowd parted it was so bad.

He became a stewardess after college. He told us about crop dusting the passengers near the bathroom so they would think that it came from someone dropping a deuce.

The best story is that he was visiting the Empire State Building. Right before he got off the express elevator, he let one fly that was God awful he said. A bunch of his male stewardess friends were just getting on, and they were stuck for 50 floors in his sewer air. It was so bad that one of them gave him a hard time a full 3 months later for trapping them in that stench. I’ve tried without success since the day he told me that story to duplicate this feat.

As for me, I’ll pick the empty car every time, even if it is just one floor. I admit I’ve closed the door before others could get in. Why do people get so awkward in a specific place?

As an introvert, every closed room with strangers is awkward. It gets compounded by a group of chatty girls (any age) or someone who wants to talk. That is the quiet zone, like the library where you should STFU until it’s time to get off.

Be a good citizen and kind to introverts. Don’t talk. Also, don’t fart in elevators.

Why I Like To Be Alone

It’s not that I don’t like others, just not all the time. Actually, I’d rather be alone most of the time. I don’t even miss others or think about missing them. Most of the time, they let me down or make the time spent together difficult. My appetite for that is over.

People drain me and consistently let me down. I’m sure I let them down when they think I should act like an extrovert, but then I don’t force myself on others.

Small talk is the most draining thing during the day. I know as soon as I get into it that it’s going to be a dreadful and useless conversation. Society expects you to go through this ritual, but that doesn’t make it meaningful or any less painful.

Give me meaningful and deep discussions and you have my attention. Otherwise, I’m happiest writing in my diary and reading.

Not caring what others think about you is a blessed relief. It’s the same when they don’t think of you also, like the remote parts of your family that are annoying.

One Of My Fears, Having To Take A Dump On A Public Toilet

This happened on 10/11.

The best man at my wedding George has the best sphincter control of anybody I’ve known. He drove across the United Stated (horizontally) and didn’t unload the whole way. He also made me paranoid about having to drop a deuce on a public toilet.

I’m a germaphobe to begin with. I don’t trust a hotel room, knowing what I’ve done in them and listening to other peoples stories also. When George was a motel manager, he’d wait until the maid cleaned the rooms and put a clean paper ribbon over the toilet seat. He took the master key and slid off the ribbon, took a shit and then put it back on.

So I’m in the gym today. It’s bad enough already as you are trying to work out and I live in a college town. That means the girls come in to work out in the fuck me shorts all decked out in nips and lips, prancing about. They show off the goods and preen in front of the mirror wearing a ponytail holder on their wrist. God forbid if one of the guys looks, then the whole gym creep thing comes out. I won’t stare because that is what they want. One girl came by this day in the see through lime green sherbet outfit 2 sizes too small and I had to do a double take to see if she was black or white. She’d spent so much time on the tanning bed she could have been either, but that makes her white. Please.

The opposite is also true. There are some that need to be at the gym because they need to lose weight and get in shape. I applaud them for doing something about it, but I am trying not to look at them either. It’s because they are trying to wear the same thing the hot girls wear and it’s not working for covering that much mass. I looked up and almost had my face in a cottage cheese barrel.

It used to be that the gym was just guys in sweat clothes would be there. Then, Jane Fonda let in all the girls and taught them take more and more off. At first,the A/C would make it nippy, but now they wearing body paint skin suits that don’t cover a thing. You know by looking whether you are ordering a #3 roast beef combo or a peach fuzz smoothy without trying. They then proceed to push their cookie up in the air like they were doing upside down doggie and we have to act like we don’t notice. They entice you to look and then get mad if you do.

Anyway, why I wrote this.

I was doing legs today. I work out in the afternoon when the traffic is light so you don’t have to wait for a machine you want to use. I do all my sports page reading business first thing in the morning so it never crossed my mind that I’d have to take a dump. It never happens past mid-morning. I felt a rumbling in my stomach and thought it couldn’t be. I was hoping for a fart and it would pass.

So I’m listening to music during hamstring curls thinking that I could move around some air and the crisis would pass. Wouldn’t you know that the song that played was Should I stay or should I go by the Clash.

I’m in a complete dilemma now as I’d just gotten there and didn’t want to leave, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. I let it go one too many leg curls until I knew I was in trouble.

Having to go on a public toilet is as much a torture thought for me as dropping the soap in the shower in jail. I didn’t have time to be able leave to find the most expensive store nearby as they usually have the cleanest bathrooms according to George.

I realized it was going to happen and I couldn’t stop it. The train was leaving the station. I grabbed the disinfecting wipes for the gym equipment and made my way to the locker room. I’m in there 4 times a week and every time I see legs in the stall with some guy laying rope. I think how disgusting that is using a public can. A bunch of sweaty MF all shitting on the same toilet. I don’t know how girls do it.

I usually go for the cripple stool as is it is less used than the regular stall. It was out of order, so I have to go on one that has been destroyed since midnight as this is a 24 hour gym.

Well, I scrubbed down the seat, then papered it like the second coming of the Mummy and all hell broke loose. You’d think I’d taken the colonoscopy medicine.

I don’t even like going on a can that others use at home and have my own bathroom I call home base. It has a bidet built in so that if I don’t get a clean break, I can get the old Japanese wash and blow dry from my seat.

My fear at the gym was that I’d have to use the whisper thin paper that doubles as a cheese grader that this was going to happen.

I didn’t even run out of toilet paper during Covid because I use the bidet seat so my bung hole has gone back to virginity. TP wiping is something I don’t do anymore.

There was someone in the bathrooms while this was going on, but I didn’t care as your rarely see the same people. It turned out to be Fred the maintenance man. Fred is there every time I’m at the gym. He is kind of like a rain man about cleaning and walked in as soon as I walked out. It was a WWIII destruction zone and I’m going to see Fred again the next time I’m there. I’ll bet he wishes he wasn’t there.

It was a terrible experience, having to open the Bombay doors somewhere other than on home base. I came home and showered, but felt violated that I had to sacrifice my standards because my stomach wouldn’t give me fair warning before I left.

An Introvert’s Perspective Of Family Gatherings

My mom told me I had to stick with my family and put up with gatherings because they are blood. She was right on most things in life, but not this one.

I look at them like I look at most people. If we were friends or wanted to see each other, we’d get together. Now, it’s just weddings and funerals, and I avoid those if possible. I missed the last one that made me the patriarch of both sides of the family now. That’s not a burden I relish or will give any attention too.

Besides avoiding both sides of my family whenever possible, my wife’s family doesn’t live in my country, so I have it easy there. They sit around and trash the US to feel morally superior so I don’t want to be a part of that.

Best of all, I stopped drinking a while back. Most of them drink a lot when they are together, so I don’t get invited to almost everything. I think I make them feel uncomfortable. They are happier to be around people who drink a lot without feeling guilty. I don’t get invited and it’s one of life’s blessings.

I treat others like they treat me. Fortunately, most of them don’t want to talk and I keep my head as low as possible so I don’t get in their line of fire.

Still, leaving is always my favorite part of getting together, family or otherwise.

Why I Never Go Back To My High School Or College

I was listening to Steely Dan play My Old School, one of my theme songs. Click on it, it’s a great song.

I realized I went to school to grow up in life, not really to learn. I went to classes and did did stuff, but it was just a step in life I had to take first. My real education was when I got out and started in life. School was just learning how to learn, mostly what not to do. Life is a big picture that I saw. I knew I had to get through this time and had a need to have my success being in life, not following the crowd in my teens. I watched the cliques and instinctively knew I didn’t want to be held hostage by them. Even then, I just knew I was going to be a bigger success and do much more than any of them. Other than a few sports stars and a doctor here and there, it came true. It’s not really important to me as I expected it. It’s because I didn’t pin my identity to that time of my life.

Most of all, I didn’t get stuck in my hometown and got away from those who stayed in the mud pit of mediocrity.

I know some people never leave college and re-live school every Friday night or Saturday during football season, but I am fortunate to have Mauerbauertraurigheit. I never wanted to be a part of what they were. Maybe it was just the introvert in me coming out, but I moved on and the memories weren’t strong enough to make me long for that, ever.

I went to school with some people from kindergarten through the end of college, yet I never think of them as friends. Just going to the same school isn’t the basis for a relationship. I never wanted to be in their clubs or fraternity’s, even when I had the chance. They weren’t the type of people I wanted to be a part of. At a college party one time I told Brad Hurd, who I knew since kindergarten that my best life decision until then was not pledging his fraternity. It was just the same elementary, middle school and high school people that I instinctively knew weren’t going to be significant, or my friends.

I also remember college graduation. I thought to myself, I may never step foot back on this campus and 43 years later, I never have. I’d had enough of college life and wanted to grow up and experience new and different things. People I knew still get together and pretend they are still there, but I can’t bring myself to do it. It was a chapter in my life that has closed. Life expanded so much for me after I got out that I feel no connection with the people anymore.

I still have friends from that time, but it had nothing to do with school. We are friends because of our relationship, mutual interests and experiences in life.

So, like the song, I’m never going back to my old school. I’ve passed up the 10th, 20th, 25th, 30th and 40th high school reunions so far, and have no plans to ever do it again.

I always thought that my life was going to happen after I left school, and it did. Those I went to school with act like they never left. Their pinnacle in life was either high school or college. They are like Al Bundy, high school football star, but loser in life. They relive the past at a time we were juveniles. I saw much more than that. Being a part of it wasn’t something I ever wanted to do.

On LinkedIn, I don’t even list my university. Instead I use Faber College, Knowledge is good.

Occasionally, I hear about someone from that time. Almost to a person, they didn’t amount to not much past that time of life. I hope they enjoyed their moment in the limelight, but it’s too bad that it came so early in life. When I see the pictures, they faded into old looking people who fell out of shape or didn’t realize their dreams. It’s sad. I wish they could have seen the big picture that what seems important to teenagers is not.

When I think about why, it was the people that I wanted away from, not the school. I continue to have highlights in life, rather than re-live an immature time of my life.

I’m never going back, to my old…..school, because I grew up to so much more.

My First Job Included Madmen Shenanigans

This post has sex and booze in it, read it later in the post.

Since I graduated with both Accounting and Marketing degree’s, I tried to find a job in one of those fields. I finished college before they had the internet, so you couldn’t look up jobs on LinkedIn or on online. We did actual networking back then.

I had friends who got me interviews where they worked, and I accepted a job in the finance trainee program at Burdines Department Stores. Here is the building I worked at in downtown Miami. Count 4 floors up and that would be me.

The program was 4 six month shifts in different departments (where they needed a slave to hump some work it seemed).

I have no idea why or what I was doing in finance. I really majored in Animal House activities and going to the Beach instead of class. I knew debit was on the left, but even I wouldn’t have trusted me at the time with balancing a checkbook.

Anyway…..

My 2nd rotation in the Statistical department was working on the Departmental Operating Statement (DOS). It was a financial statement that reported on the profit and loss of every department in every store, so 256 departments x 26 stores x 18 expense categories. It was as dreary as that sentence sounds

While not a published financial statement, it was how the department managers in each store got rated. That is far too much responsibility for someone who drank and got high often enough to fail any drug test, at work.

The DOS was a manual masturbation exercise that had to balance to the expenses for the year and show the profitability (or loss) of each department and store. This will be key in the story that follows.

While working on this, we were automating it to an IBM System 34 (now the System P), again pre-PC days. It even had 8 inch floppy diskettes for storage.

Burdines was owned by Federated Department Stores, who also owned Bloomingdales, Filene’s, Foley’s, A & S, and a number of other stores. This part is important. Never once was the DOS turned in on time by Burdines to Federated. The other divisions were on time and it was a sore spot for the finance guys.

Statistical made sure the DOS balanced to the penny manually. It also meant it would never be on time. During this period, I found that I had an affinity for computers. I was one of the few that understood how they worked and mainly focused on that. When you can run something others are afraid of, and it is vital to getting the job done, it’s like playing cards with a stacked deck. I got that concept right away. The computer would crank out a report in about 30 minutes in those days which would have taken weeks to do manually.

We worked days and nights to get it finished. While the computer was calculating, we were writing programs (in RPG II). We also fucked off and messed with the other employees desk’s who were a pain (Art Goldstein, still in Expense Control). We were putting cigarette ashes under his desk pad, all kinds of shit in his desk and unrolling his calculator (no PC’s) and printing a lot of gibberish on it, then rolling the tape back up for him to find days later. He’d have to redo the tabulation as you had to attach a tape to your work. It cost him hours at work. No one said a thing the next day when he lost it. We just shrugged. Everyone knew it was us that worked late. We also ordered in pizza and beers and left drunk many nights. There was worse stuff we did with the pizza’s, but that’s another story.

I thought accountants were stiffs, but these guys could put a way scotch until they were pickled. It was like working with John Hamm, only at night.

Since these were the Madmen days when you could drink at work, we got beers and take out food from the Cuban restaurants since it was in downtown Miami. You could also fuck around at work without the #metoo bullshit that has ruined a lot of good office sex.

Needless to say, we got it finished, but not on time to Federated during my trainee rotation. I wasn’t a full employee yet, so I didn’t care. I had fun messing around and seeing how things worked. They balanced it as it was done at the same time manually, so it had to tie out. That little detail cost weeks of work to be that exact. I learned everything I could about the computer and started to see it as my ticket to life.

NOW, MY FIRST JOB

I was moved on to the Credit department for my 3rd rotation, where I thought I was going to die from boredom until they got my ass out of there early. I was questioning my career decision at this point. The most I learned there was about mopering (you’re going to have to ask a NY cop what this is).

Since I’d made the System 34 sing and dance, they promoted me back to Statistical (I called it sta-testicle) in charge of the DOS this time and told me I had to have it in on time (or pretty much be fired). I didn’t have an option to decline it having already done one round of this financial statement. Hell, it was a promotion and doing something I saw as a career was way better than wanting to shoot myself while I did pretty much jack shit in Credit.

This is where the fun begins.

I was now responsible for people and the ratings of thousands of people. All the other employees who worked on it from before had only done the manual version. I was the only one who could work the System 34. While it was a mystery to them on the computer, the sharp eyed finance people could make any financial statement balance with paper, pencil and calculator. These (mostly) girls would sit at their desk and crank out calculations all day, and only leave to go to break (this will be important later).

One of them, my 2nd in command, Carmen Gomez had huge boobs. I’d love to sit with her while we she figured out numbers as she’d plant those babies on my arms at the desk for minutes at a time. I couldn’t have cared less about balancing the numbers. That was her problem. This is the only time I’d sit still for more than 10 minutes. There is no way she didn’t know she was doing this and I was a walking hormone at 22. I didn’t move until she finished as they were the biggest tits I’d been near my whole life.

During my first stint on the DOS, I heard someone say as a joke that you could spread any expense overages like peanut butter over all the departments and no one would notice. It was like when I heard that you could kill a hangover with the hair of the dog. I tucked that nugget away and it would serve me well later.

Here’s where I skip the boring parts where I worked 6 days a week from 8 in the morning to sometimes 11 at night. The only part that matters is that I was alone at night this time.

What is important is that I’m in charge of the computer as I’m the only one who can make it work. I’m alone at night when the computer is crunching and I can see the reports first. They had stopped the manual version so there was no number detail that I had to balance to, just the final expense per category.

Besides drinking, here’s the other Madmen stuff. I now have finance trainee’s working for me doing what I did. In this case they were also girls. There was no hanky panky during the work day, but stay tuned, there will be.

My desk wasn’t in the computer room, so I’d have to run back and forth between the two (me not sitting still, except at Carmen’s desk). I’d pass by the controller’s office. I found out later he was worried about what I was doing because I was never at my desk hammering the calculator like the rest of the robots. His name was Bob Dillon and was about 5’6″, so we nicknamed him shorty. Even Carmen, who was a stiff would come to laugh at that one. His pants were never wrinkled, so we wondered if he took them off to sit down.

When the day workers went home, I put my magic to work. I understood real clear the part about getting it done on time. I also understood the peanut butter reference. I couldn’t balance this thing with scales from NASA, so I gave in quickly to spreading any leftover money to everyone. They each took a few dollars hit and wouldn’t know anyway so what did I care? Since we were fully automated now, they didn’t have a manual version to compare it with, so I was the only one who understood this little secret. They just knew that I was on time and delivered reports every morning.

SOME MORE MADMEN STUFF

As I mentioned, it was my turn to have trainee’s working on the statement. Burdines hired college students by the busload, mostly girls on the marketing side to buy and promote mostly high end merchandise. I got used to the assistant buyers lasting about 6 months and being recycled for new grads. It was like feeding time at the crocodile pit at the zoo when they brought the trainees in. I went out with a million of them, all with bad intentions. This was the Miami Vice time of life so being single in Miami was a time you could live like the Playboy Mansion, and we did. We’d have new stories every week and the girls were in on it too at this time. No one reported anyone to HR for hanky panky with the co-workers or playing grab ass in the hallways. The girls thought it was great and grabbed back. I got picked up one time by the fragrance girl who would spray you with cologne as you went down the escalator. This was before the Karen’s who ruin everything were born.

My trainee on the DOS though was Terri. A 6 foot girl with an attitude that said I could drink with any of you and still get to work. I was busy with the assistant buyers while she worked for me, so I kept it professional during the intense DOS time.

Remember, I had to have it on time and I knew it’s integrity wasn’t going to get in my way.

I missed a lot of life over those months, and a lot of beach time on Saturday. No one could question my commitment to getting it done, although my work ethics might have been somewhat iffy.

After busting ass over many months with many working parts, I sat alone those many nights running programs and printing thousands of pages of reports. They balanced every time because because I forced it. I was about getting it finished on time and not letting shorty know what was going on.

SHENANIGANS

Needless to say, I got it done. It was the first time Burdines was ever on time with the DOS to Federated headquarters. I knew that it was close enough to being mostly representative of what went on (and exact in some places like payroll because Carmen did that one) so I met my personal challenges and my goals at my review. I was a star in the minds of the big shots. Even shorty was happy, although he never knew the shortcuts I took.

On the day we finished, we decided to celebrate by going out to Joe’s Stone Crabs for dinner. The whole crew went (not Carmen, fortunately). The professional drinkers were on display and I was recently out of college in an Animal House fraternity, so I was more than 10 Heineken’s down by the end of dinner.

I told Terri that I was ready to go after a while and I think she wanted me to drive her home. My original intentions weren’t lascivious, but as we drove by Miami International Airport on 836, I decided to throw a trial balloon. I said how about a version of the submarine races? This involved watching planes taking off, with me taking off as much of her clothes as fast as I could.

As I said, she was a good sport. She acted like one of the guys, and no one hit on her during the DOS, so I figured she was ready for action (and many beers down herself). As for looks, I was the best she could hope for and I’d been pulling ass from assistant buyers well out of her league (and she knew it). I was on a recent breakup and ready for a rebound that was meaningless, but hopefully meaningful memory wise.

I also knew she was done in statistical and was moving to her next assignment, so what the hell. She didn’t work for me anymore.

I found what I thought was a private place and parked. I made my move quickly as I figured we were drunk and if I got any push back, I’d just go home. I wasn’t going to try that hard. Well, she was in on the plan and probably hadn’t gotten any since college so her shirt was unbuttoned in no time. I’d had a steady college girlfriend who had the same bra that unsnapped in the front. I had it undone faster than Fonzie from Happy Days, to which her surprised response was wow, you did that well. I said I’d done it before, so she knew she was going to have a ride that night. Let the rodeo begin.

One thing led to another and an hour later we were still going at it. She had a big boat of Mercury with a huge bench seat in the front, so there was plenty of room for her tallness. We were at it from every way you could in a car. The windows in the car were fogged by now.

I thought I’d found a nice sequestered place, but in my drunkenness, I’d parked under a window at the 94th Aero Squadron restaurant. That is the chain at airports that has big windows for watching planes take off and land. They got the show of the century. No one watched the planes that night. Here’s an actual picture of the view at that restaurant. We were right parked right below this.

When we were done, we went home to my apartment for another round. The next morning, I woke up with morning wood and her hand stroking my Johnson. We still had to work (on a Saturday) to clean up records and get it published. Both of us acted like it was just another day, but later I heard she spread the word that I was an animal that night, so it garnered interest from a number of young unsuspecting trainee’s that I wouldn’t otherwise have had a shot at. After we’d both moved on, I’d call her up for beers and sex with no commitment and were friends with benefits.

She even signed my going away card with a reference to watching the planes take off.

Needless to say, the DOS was done on time. I asked and received a transfer to Data Processing to start the PC program, which would start me on my real career in all things personal computing, cloud, networking, PR and AR.

I still got high at work with the internal auditors and did a great job, but moved on from Burdines with an education in how to prioritize things to get the job done, in many aspects of life.

Those were the good days before HR and woke busybodies ruined all the fun. I’d have been fired for any of that stuff today. It’s a damn good thing I retired.

Talk Like A Pirate Day

Well blow me down mateys, it be that time of year again!  This proud tradition started 27 years ago.  Don’t be a scurvy dog and forget to talk like a pirate, all day long!  In thewords of “Steve the Pirate” from the movie “Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story”  –  “gar”.

When Men Get Bored, You Get Stuff Like This

Give them some time alone to get bored, and they come up with this. I was checking out of the Garden shop at Lowes, and found this gem. I think they put the cardboard box on it to shelter it from sun/rain, but someone had too much time on their hands.

One Of My Worst Introvert Nightmares

I hate this.

I’m not able to process the attention that others force on you. To me, it’s just another day and I wish others would treat it that way. I want to crawl in a hole and not come out until it is over.

When I was a waiter, we’d sing the song to the birthday person. Almost always, a drunk table nearby would want it and would ask for us to sing it to them. One time, a party was so belligerent about it, instead of Happy Birthday dear (name), we sang eat a big one you asshole, HBTY.

Back to the point. I never understood why it was such a big deal. I didn’t know it was OK to hate your birthday until I talked to other introverts. It was painful for years. When I found out you didn’t have to suffer through this, I got my family to swear they’d never put me through the fake festivities again.

I think parents are so overboard on their children’s birthdays that they set this false expectation that it’s a real holiday. It was painful for me and I never knew how to act. The kids come to count on it like it is going to make them happier because they got stuff.

The extroverts in my family expect the attention, but it’s difficult for me to sit through that also. I want that to be over as much as when it happens to me.

In my life, charade has taken over any holiday. People get worked up and claim they are happy because of a day that is supposed to be celebrated. I’ve grown to loathe big family gatherings and the month long Christmas ordeal. I see how unhappy they can be. It’s because people set themselves up for false expectations that some holiday or gathering is supposed to make them feel better. Take away their alcohol and it’s a whole different thing.

I can’t buy that nonsense as there are other days in the year that make me happier, but it is organic rather than manufactured. I can even take (a small amount) some celebrations if spontaneous and real.

At this end of my life, I don’t like having another birthday so fast. It just reminds me that that I’ll be crossing the checkered flag in life soon.

Unwritten Rules For Men

If you read how it’s harder to be a man than you thought (why trans men can’t pull it off), you know that life is harder for guys than we let on.

Hell, half the pressure is stuff we put on ourselves, but then so is half of the enjoyment of pulling it off.

(From the link above)

Men are in competition with each other. Men vie to express dominance, to establish their place in the pecking order.

If a man steps out of line, and assumes a place in the pecking order that is not agreed upon – this place being based upon established social agreements that no one can see, nor express in words – he is summarily dismissed.

If he still believes the territory, he has assumed, is rightfully his, he will endure all manner of insults and attacks, up to, and including, physical attacks

This begins for boys some time just after the toddler stage, and intensifies through the teen years, and early adulthood.

Men find this competition exhilarating, though it is also challenging, and often ends in shocking defeats. 

WE MAKE UP GAMES TO COMPETE, EVEN WITH OURSELVES.

See the meme above. One of the unwritten rules for guys is you have to (at least try) to get all the shopping bags in one trip.

Next, we can’t just throw away a wad of paper if there is a hoop to make. Back up and see how far you can be before you miss. Add difficulty by changing hands or twice in a row. Hell, I toss ice cubes that fell on the floor behind my back into the sink. Putting them there would be too easy, or conversely not enough of a challenge.

I told my son this one. You have to open the garage door as far as possible when driving up. You need to know the range in case of (imagined) attack, or whatever. Never can you wait in the driveway while the door is opening.

You have to park in the spot first time. To add difficulty, back in. The ultimate challenge is parallel parking uphill on the wrong side of the street while driving stick shift with people in your car to judge you. It has to be done the first try. (I’ve done it).

Then there are the bathroom rules.

Like this.

And of course which one to use.

And this.

Here are 30 guy rules, but I didn’t know about the fart window in the public restroom.

Life Got Better For Everyone, Hollywood Actors And Writers Are On Strike

What’s funny is most people haven’t noticed.

The biggest effect on me is that Jeopardy is in re-runs, but I can live with that.

They’ll do the usual dance about pay and resolve it somehow, but in the meantime we won’t be subjected to the woke crap like what Disney has been putting out recently.

It amuses me that the Sound of Freedom is doing well, despite no support from the media or Hollywood. They don’t want decent or honest films going out.

We’ll also have a start up period where nothing is getting made as they have to start writing again and re-opening the movie sets. Then the woke crap will be back on the screens.

I don’t bother with that anymore and barely watch much, only what I can stomach.

Go outside and enjoy the day. Actually do things rather than sit in front of the screen. It’s a lost art. There was nothing on for kids when I was young. We entertained ourselves, played sports or made up stuff to do.

I was watching a video of girls talking about would they date an incel (involuntary celibate guy). They said get your head out of the computer if you want your dick wet. Otherwise they didn’t want anything to do with them.

Maybe the writers will stay on strike so everyone wins.

My Observations On Road Rage And Driving, People Act Like Children

I’ve been driving between states and have noticed some trends.

Mostly, people are childish in their cars. They might be decent people, but as soon as they get behind the wheel, they revert to the playground.

It’s like they think they own the road.

Here is what I noticed.

I was merging onto a highway in a lane that had to go from two to one. I generally will let at least one car in and absolutely let a truck in to be decent. It used to be that way in the South. Yesterday, a Ford Escort sped up to try and not let me in. Little children are spiteful and try to have all the toys just to not let you have one.

I’ve written about how to merge in traffic so don’t mess with me. I also drive a truck. When I saw she was trying to be an asshole, I just kept merging and got in easily, but this is just where it started. She never had a chance as I just kept coming. The lane was ending and I didn’t have a choice. Of course I got in, but give me a break. Is it too much to ask to be nice?

I’ve learned that holding your speed and lane is generally just as fast as lane jumping. A few miles later, there were lane darters jumping across two lanes at a time on both sides just to get a few cars ahead. It’s just like children cutting in line just to be ahead of you, even if just by a place or two.

The problems with this are that it screws up traffic and caused a lot of people to hit the brakes. That is a traffic killer every time. I’ll give the Europeans this one. They know how to pass. It’s always on the left and if they are not fast, they drive in the right lanes.

The next childish behavior was people who don’t think the rules belong to them. The speed limit at the time was 70 and I get 75 MPH, but I was getting passed by people going at least 90. I have a brother in law that does this and I think that he’s a dick for being this impatient.

It’s proven that your probability of a crash or death goes up exponentially with speed above the limit.

I settled back to let them get away from me, half expecting them to be ticketed ahead or in a crash. I made good time and got to where I was going safely. I was glad to be done with it.

I could go on, but I’m sure everyone sees what I do and are either like me or like a child.

Well, It Figures It Was Harvard That Started The Gender Lie

Count on the Ivy League and Harvard especially to ruin it for everyone. It’s like clockwork to screw things up for people. Not only were they proven by the SCOTUS of discrimination and being racists, apparently they are perverts.

Yes Trannies, It’s Harder To Be A Man Than You Thought

It’s hard to imagine that people can’t figure out that males and females are different. They are supposed to be. Just because you don’t like yourself, it doesn’t mean that it’s going to make your life any better by trying to be something you are not. If you can’t accept yourself as who you are, don’t think we’re going to accept the fake version of you.

We’ve already found out that men don’t make good women. They can kick ass in girls sports, but can’t sell beer very well as girls. They’ll never be able to have a baby either, kind of the big male/female differentiator.

I see Ryan Mulvanney like all real men do. He was the pussy in school who got his ass kicked. After the butt light commercial, a lot of guys would administer that just out of duty to other men. Instead of bucking up and trying harder, he decided to try and be a girl and was marketing poison.

HERE IS THE REAL STORY, WHY A GIRL CAN’T BE A GUY

Now, we have this girl that is crying because she found out that men are competitive, loners and don’t need other men to cry with in the bathroom.

So speaking of pussies, here is the girl who has pretended to be a guy, crying because she can’t share her feelings with other guys in the bathroom. I’ve got a clue for you girl, guys don’t share their feelings. We never give away any competitive advantage.

Pussy.

From Pastorius who sums up what it is to be a guy

Men are in competition with each other. Men vie to express dominance, to establish their place in the pecking order.

If a man steps out of line, and assumes a place in the pecking order that is not agreed upon – this place being based upon established social agreements that no one can see, nor express in words – he is summarily dismissed.

If he still believes the territory, he has assumed, is rightfully his, he will endure all manner of insults and attacks, up to, and including, physical attacks

This begins for boys some time just after the toddler stage, and intensifies throug the teen years, and early adulthood.

Men find this competition exhilarating, though it is also challenging, and often ends in shocking defeats. 

We pick ourselves up, nurse our wounds, and go back to do battle on this invisible turf.

This is a fact of manhood that a woman can not know, because, as I said, this pecking order is based upon ESTABLISHED social agreements that no one can see, nor express in words. 

I would imagine this must be a shocking fact of life for a Trans “man”, to find that he has no place, because he never fought for it, and is completely unaware of the competition which is raging all around him. 

It must be profoundly disorienting.

And it is because these Trans “men” have never fought for their territory – and enter into this competition completely unaware, blind to that which is clear as day to man = that they can never be more than a cheap imitation of man; a mockery of a notion of manhood, perceived from the outside.

Here’s our life, fighting for everything and every inch of ground we gain in life.

You may change your appearance, but you can’t change your gender or ever know what the other gender is like. It’s why men don’t have a clue what girls are thinking. At some point in all of our lives, we give up trying and just live our life. It’s much better that way.

FaceBook And Instagram Photo Filters, Also Known As Lying

Social media, where being fake about who you are for a hit on the like button, by people who probably don’t really like it. Adults acting like children and children learning to lie.

Stolen from Woosterman.

Universal Lunch Meals Again. I Hope They Are More Appetizing Than What Michelle Obama Forced On The Kids

Update: Michelle Obama is peddling sugary drinks that don’t meet the nutrition standards she advocated as first lady, She’s doing it for money, greedy person.

The bill’s summary claims it would end “school lunch shaming” and “provides an additional incentive for local food procurement.”

But the 47-page bill doesn’t explain how the government would pay for the program. How much does the program cost? How will the government offset the payments?

Oh, wait. These people think money grows on trees.


The 44th first lady (hard to type those words about an America hater) tried this as her signature program. It was a failure as the kids hated the meals so much that they wouldn’t eat the swill. A lot of “food” got thrown away. $500 million down the drain and it ended silently and thankfully.

Yet here we go again. Trying to force their opinions on others for conformity.

The story is here

I had a friend who ate an oatmeal creme cookie and a lemonade from the snack machine. His dad was a university professor so they weren’t poor. He was saving up his money. He bought a Porsche before anyone in the class of 1100 that we graduated in.

I ate PB&J and loved it. The school meals were ok, but almost no one wanted or could eat them.