Something's Fishy Dear Blog:
I don't know if I'm starting to get paranoid or what, but ever since the toothpick swiping incident at McDonalds, I've been a little on edge.

Today, while I was finished mowing the lawn with the new lawnmower I got, I noticed a scrap of paper being blown around on my lawn by the breeze. I went to pick the paper up to throw it away, and was stunned when I realized that it was a wrapper from a McDonalds sandwich. More specifically, it was a wrapper to a fillet-o-fish sandwich.

First I get this comment in my blog, and now this.

I stood there staring at that wrapper for several minutes, wondering if it meant something. Then I remembered a scene from The Godfather where Tessio hands Sonny a fish wrapped up in newspaper.

Maybe the fillet-o-fish wrapper was a Sicilian message from McDonalds. Maybe they are implying that Bernie Michaels is going to be sleeping with the fishes.

I finished mowing the lawn with haste, and got back in the house as soon as I could.

The funny thing is, as much as that fish wrapper frightened me, I could really go for a fillet-o-fish right about now.

Must....resist...the....fish,
- Bernie  ¶ 5:51 PM 0 comments

The Lawnmower Man Dear Blog:
I had to mow the lawn today for the first time this season. Technically, it's my parents lawn, but I take care of the upkeep. It's the least I can do considering that they let me have the house all to myself at no cost. I checked the gas tank and noticed that it was bone dry. I filled it from a can we had leftover from last year.

The lawnmower worked great, for about five minutes, then the engine siezed and black smoke billowed from the mower. As I soon learned, my dad drains the mower of all it's fluids before every winter, and I forgot to check the oil.

I asked my father what we are going to do. He said, "What do you mean, 'we'? I'm not the dumbass who used it without checking the oil."

So much for my vow to never purchase another thing. I'm off to Home Depot to buy a new mower. Maybe I should get a self-propelled mower so I can run myself over with it.

Ugh,
- Bernie  ¶ 4:56 PM 0 comments

Dog Tired Dear Blog:
I didn't get much sleep last night because my neighbor's dog would not stop barking. I didn't even know they had a dog. Maybe they just got it. At any rate, they need to get that thing to shut up. It's driving me crazy.

I decided to write them a letter of complaint, which I typed on my computer and printed on personalized stationary which my mom gave me last Christmas. The letterhead on the stationary makes it look very official.

I could just go across the street and talk to them, but this seems as good a reason as any to start using my Christmas present.

Laterz,
- Bernie  ¶ 6:02 PM 1 comments

Zed is Dead Dear Blog:
What's the deal with people like the British and Canadians using zed instead of z? Z is a letter. Zed is a word, made of three letters: z, e, and d.

It's "Liza with a z," not "Liza with a zed."

Get with the program people.

Or is that programme?
-Bernie  ¶ 4:50 PM 1 comments

My Robe Springs A Leak Dear Blog:
My old bathrobe is finally worn to the point where there is a hole in the back, right where I sit. I don't want to replace it, because of my vow to stop purchasing things. Besides, now that I have the house to myself, I don't know why I even bother with the bathrobe anyway. I could just stroll around in my birthday suit.

I'll just need to make sure that the curtains are drawn when I do, or the neighbors are in for a treat.
- Bernie  ¶ 4:10 PM 0 comments

Toothpick McScandal! Dear Blog:
Shortly after yesterday’s ordeal at McDonalds, I noticed something horribly wrong with one of my toothpicks. As you can see in Figure 1 (see Figure 2 for the un-American version), most of them appear decent, with no obvious quality control issues. However, the toothpick shown in Figure 3 has a huge splinter in its side that looks about ready to break off.



Now I don’t know about you, but the idea of having a splinter of wood break off in my mouth is not a pleasant one. What if the splinter were to cause gum damage? McDonalds could be sued out of business.

This not only reflects badly on McDonalds, it reflects badly on the entire service industry. Not just the restaurants, but the whole lot of them.

Guess its back to my Hungry Man Frozen Dinners.
- Bernie  ¶ 4:51 PM 0 comments

McGetaway Car Dear Blog:

Today I stopped by McDonalds to grab some dinner. While waiting for my order to be filled, I noticed that they had a toothpick dispenser on the counter. Enchanted with the idea of getting a free supply of toothpicks, I quickly grabbed a huge handful and slipped them into my pocket.

When the counter lady was handing me my McDinner-in-a-bag, I started getting an uneasy feeling. Had she seen me take the toothpicks?! I panicked. In one swift motion, I grabbed my meal as I knocked the plastic food trays off the counter and sent them flying across the restaurant floor to distract the employees, and then I headed as fast as I could without drawing suspicion, to my 2004 Nissan Maxima SL with GPS and On-Board computer. I drove frantically, plotting waypoints back to my house on the GPS, hoping that I could outrun the McCops, who were surely hot on my trail.

As it turns out, they never did catch me. It's a good thing I thought of tossing those plastic trays.

I'm going to lay low for a while. Until tomorrow...
- Bernie  ¶ 5:30 PM 0 comments

The Garden Gnome and The Trailer Troll Dear Blog:
I love my roomba. I really do. It has made vacuuming a breeze. However, there is one thing that the roomba cannot do, which I realized after noticing the thick layer of dust on my lamp shades. I don't have an extendable vacuum, but lucky for me, my mom does, and like a garden gnome, she lives in my yard.

I stepped out, knocked on her trailer, asked to borrow her vacuum, and ignored an earful about how I never stop by unless I want something.

Blah, blah, etc.

I then hastily made off with her vacuum.

After vacuuming my lampshades, I brought the vacuum back to my mother and said, "You see, Mom: I don't only stop by when I want something. I stop by to return things too."

I just realized: like a vacuum, I suck.

Walking away slowly, with head hung low,
- Bernie  ¶ 9:44 PM 0 comments

Metric Schmetric Dear Blog:
I really feel sorry for people who live in a country where the metric system is used. Oh, sure, it seems to make sense, because it's based on units of ten, but it's completely out of whack with reality.

For instance, I'm comfortable at a temperature of 68 degrees Fahrenheit, which is the same as 20 degrees Celcius. Now, if the temperature were to go up by 1 degree Fahrenheit, to 69 degrees, I'd still be pretty comfortable, but if the temperature increases 1 degree Celcius, to 21 Celsius, that would make it 69.8 degrees Fahrenheit!

OK, so 69.8 degrees Fahrenheit wouldn't be so bad either. Maybe that's not such a good example.

Let me try that again:

Let's say that I commute 20 miles to work. Then my company relocates, and moves 5 miles farther away. Now, an additional 5 miles at a driving speed of 60 miles per hour, which is the same as a mile a minute, I can easily understand that I need to leave 5 minutes earlier in order to get to work on time. No sweat!

Now, let's look at the same thing using the metric system. Before the company relocates, I would live 32.186 kilometers from work. That, alone, is distressing. After the relocation, I'd have to travel an additional 8.046 kilometers for a total traveling distance of 40.233 kilometers. Still assuming that I'm using the metric system, I'd know that I drive at an average speed of 96 kilometers per hour (which sounds pretty fast to me, quite frankly). After learning I'd have to travel an additional 8.046 kilometers at 96 kilometers per hour, I would need to grab a calculator to figure out that I'd be traveling at 1.6 kilometers a minute and that I'd need to leave 5 minutes earlier in order to get to work on time.

So much for the simplicity of base 10 mathematics!

In addition to that, I don't know about you, but 40.233 kilometers sounds pretty far to me. If I lived in a country using the metric system, I just might consider looking for a new job, because I wouldn't want to travel that far.

Talk to you tomorrow (or in approximately 10 metric hours).
- Bernie  ¶ 1:01 PM 1 comments

Good Bye Blue Light Dear Blog:
I picked up my 2004 Nissan Maxima SL from Charlie's Auto Shop after work. I still find it hard to believe that the entire ABS system on a two-year-old car had to be replaced, but I trust Charlie, and most importantly, the blue light on the dashboard is no longer shining.

Still, the cost of repairs took quite a bite out of my credit card account.

Replace brake pads: $187.

Replace anti-lock break system: $1200.

Keeping the blue ABS from lighting up:

Priceless.
-Bernie  ¶ 4:56 PM 1 comments

God Hits A Home Run Dear Blog:
Too upset to post in detail. Long story short:

Another day commuting with motor-mouth Howie at the wheel.

Charlie replaces the brake pad sensors, and now he's getting consistent readings. The diagnogstics indicated seventeen different errors dealing with various components of the ABS system, leading Charlie to conclude that the entire anti-lock break system needs to be replaced.

Charlie's Estimate: $1,200.

Eff Me.

It'll take Charlie another day to get the work done.

Double eff me.

I'll need to ask Howie to drive me to and from work one more day.

Triple eff me.

On top of all that, I have only received seven signatures in the petition I started.

Home run!
- Bernie  ¶ 5:31 PM 0 comments

The Blue Light Of Gloom Dear Blog:
After work yesterday, Howie drove me back to Charlie's Auto Shop. On the way there, he talked about his addiction to sugar babies ("I can't get enough of 'em!"), his opinion about mp3 players ("Who needs a freakin' iPod? My old Sony Walkman works just fine."), his idea of patriotism ("Any American who vacations out of the country is a traitor!"), his all-time favorite TV show ("I wish that they'd bring back 'Murder She Wrote'"), his susceptibility to peer pressure ("One time, I ate six live goldfish on a dare"), and who knows what else? I stopped listening at some point for the sake of my sanity.

I couldn't wait to get my car back so I could commute in peace.

When we got to Charlie's, Charlie was busy with another customer, so I had to wait.

Howie said, "You want me to wait around in case there's a problem."

"No, I'm sure it's fine," I said, as I looked around for my car.

Howie said, "I'll wait."

Then I noticed that my car was up on a lift. This is never a good sign.

When Charlie was finished with his customer, he asked me to come with him as he led me into the garage and towards my suspended car.

Charlie says, "I replaced the brake pads like I told you. Then I ran some computer diagnostics, but I kept getting wierd readings. He puts his hand on the inner part of the wheels, and tells me to do the same. I do as he says. "You feel the new brake pads?," Charlie asks. I tell him I do. Charlie says, "Now feel up towards the top of the brake pad, for a little round plastic thing. I tell him I feel it. He says, "That's the brake pad sensor. I think that is what is giving me the bad readings. It's always advisable to replace the brake pad sensors when you replace the break pads anyway."

I ask him why he didn't just do it then. He said he didn't have any on hand, but he can have some sent over the following day. He says the car is fine to drive, so I can take it home and bring it back in at my convenience, or I can leave the car with him, and he'll replace the brake pad sensors the following day.

I look outside and see Howie waiting in his car.

I say, "I'll take the car now."

Charlie asks me when I'll be bringing it back. I ask him to give me a minute while I talk to my ride.

I explain the situation to Howie, and Howie says, "Why don't you just leave it here and I'll pick you up from your place tomorrow?"

I tell him I don't want to.

Howie says, "Fine, so you want me to meet you here again tomorrow morning?"

This guy is so eager to please, if only he would shut up once in a while.

I say, "That'll be fine. Thanks."

Howie says, "OK, buddy, see you tomorrow then."

With my spirits crushed, I go back to Charlie and tell him I'll be back the next morning. Charlie then asks one of his guys to get my car off the lift. To me, Charlie says, "Come back to the office so we can settle up for the brake pads."

Charlie pulls my paperwork off a wall-mounted rack, and proceeds to make an unusually big production adding up some figures on an old calculator.

Finally, Charlie says, "It comes to $187.57. Let's just call it an even $187," which he follows up with a smile.

I said, "$187 to replace the break pads? You're kidding, right?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention that two of the wheel cylinders were leaking and had to be replaced."

I said, "Damn, Charlie, you better not be ripping me off."

He said, "Come on, Bern, if you can't trust me with your car, who can you trust?"

I wasn't happy about it, but I paid him with my credit card.

As I left, he said, "See you in the morning, and say hello to your Dad for me."

I said, "Fine, but it'll cost you $187." Charlie laughed. Little did he know, I wasn't trying to be funny.

I had a hunch this problem with the car was going to be a big one, and that hunch still loomed over my head like a big dark storm cloud waiting to unleash its fury on me.

As if nature were trying to drive the point home, it started to downpour as I pulled away from Charlie's garage, but I barely noticed. I was too distracted by the blue light reading "ABS" shining on my dashboard.

You ever have one of those lives?
- Bernie  ¶ 6:46 PM 1 comments

Commuting With Howie Dear Blog:
This morning I drove my car to Charlie's Auto Shop. I got there fifteen minutes early and Howie was already there. I gave my car keys to Charlie, and got in Howie's car.

Howie told me that he had stopped by a convenience store on that way to the garage and picked up a couple of things. He treated me to a coffee, a bagel, and a non-stop monologue about his cats, his new penny loafers, his tips on where to buy the cheapest short-sleeved shirts, and his family's propensity for growing cysts on their scalp ("I have four, my brother has three, my sister has four, my other sister had six, my mother has seven, and my dad has six"). Gross!

As we approached our company parking lot, Howie held up a thumbdrive that was attached to a lanyard hanging around his neck and said, "You know what this is?"

I said, "It's a thumbdrive."

Howie said, "No! It's my geek bling, yo!" And then he laughed like a hyena.

I was relieved to get to my desk, and away from all the chatter.

In the early afternoon, I got a call from Charlie. He said that he replaced the brake pads, and according to him, that usually is enough to turn off the ABS indicator. He goes on to explain, however, that it did not work time. Charlie says that he needs to run some computer diagnostics on my car to get to the bottom of it. I know I can trust Charlie, so I tell him to go ahead and do what he's got to do. He asks me to come by after work, saying he should be done by then.

I'll update you later.
- Bernie  ¶ 6:14 PM 0 comments

IKEA Petition Update
Dear Blog:
I just wanted to give you a quick update on the IKEA: Bag Our Merchandise petition that I initiated just over a week ago. There are six signatures so far! Clearly, I am not alone in thinking that IKEA should bag our merchandise.

Viva la Revolution!
- Bernie  ¶ 2:25 AM 0 comments

Hitching A Ride II Dear Blog:
This morning at work, I tracked down my coworker, Frank, and told him that I needed to have my brakes repaired. I asked him if he could do me another favor and give me a round trip to work from Charlie's Auto Shop.

He whipped out his blackberry and asked, "What day?"

I said, "Tomorrow?"

He said he was busy.

I said, "Wednesday?"

He said, "Wednesday's are really hard for me."

I said, "Any day this week?"

He put his Blackberry away and said, "I'll get back to you."

Later in the day, Frank stopped by with a skinny little guy with greasy hair and a barely-detectable blond mustache. Frank said, "Howie, meet Bernie. Bernie, meet Howie," and then to me, "This is your new chauffeur. Get aquainted." And then Frank left us.

Howie is an excitable type. We spoke for about a half hour. Actually, he spoke and I listened. I couldn't get a word in edgewise. That bothered me a little, but beggers can't be choosers, and I need the ride. Howie said anyday was good for him. I called Charlie at the auto shop and he said he could fit me in the following day. Howie said that was fine with him, so I booked the appointment.

Well, that's all for now.
-Bernie  ¶ 5:52 PM 0 comments

Butt Scratch Fever
Dear Blog:
At 9:43 this morning, my left buttocks itched. I promptly took care of the situation.

Afterwards, I became concerned. What if I had an itchy butt at an inappropriate time and place? I don't want people to see me scratching my butt in public. Maybe I should pick up some talcum powder.

But I vowed to stop buying things! What a dilemma.

I know what I should do! I'll just ask my mom. She and Dad are going to join me for Easter dinner anyway, and she always has extra talcum powder on hand.

Fortunately for me, my mother is a talcaholic.

Revelling in my own wit,
- Bernie  ¶ 12:35 PM 0 comments

Let The Bad Times Roll Dear Blog:
I stopped by to see our family mechanic after work yesterday to get my broken window and ABS looked at. The repair shop is owned by Charlie. My Dad has always taken his car to Charlie. I've know him practically my entire life. Not my Dad, Charlie. My Dad I've known my entire life; there's no "practically" about it.

Anyway, Charlie tells me that the window is easy, and that he'd take care of it right away. He removes a couple of screws and quickly pops off the inside of my car door, and replaces a couple of plastic clips that hold my window in place on the track. Ten minutes and twenty dollars later, my car window is working again.

As far as the ABS goes, he says that the brake pads probably need to be replaced. He advised me to make an appointment for a time where I can leave my car with him for a the day.

Charlie's shop is closed on Sundays, and anyway, tomorrow is Easter Sunday, so on Monday, I'll have to check with Frank at work to see if he can meet me at Charlie's Auto Shop one morning during the week and drop me off after work. I got the impression that he's on a pretty tight schedule, but it can't hurt to ask.

Here's Hoping...
- Bernie  ¶ 6:39 PM 0 comments

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back Dear Blog:
Yesterday after work, the guy from Sears successfully managed to replace my garage door, and got it working with the automatic garage door opener. I don't even want to think about what it cost me, but at least it's working.

This morning, I got in my 2004 Nissan Maxima SL, and popped in a cassette of Strauss' Sprach Zarathustra (AKA: Thus Spoke Zarathustra, AKA: the Theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey).

Once the music started playing, I pushed the button to the automatic garage door opener, and watched the door rise to the sound of a crescendo of horns and kettle drums. Grinning ear to ear, I pressed on the gas peddle, and my car was free from the garage for the first time in three days. I paused just long enough to watch the garage door close behind me. Then I was on my way.

When I got to the highway, I felt like I had a new lease on life. I pushed the button to open the driver-side car window so I could feel the cool morning air roaring through my car.

And then the car window broke off its track, and fell sideways into the car door.

Suddenly, it was as if everything was going in slow motion. After watching the window disappear into the car door, I slowly turned my eyes back to the road.

I was numb with anger. I just stared blankly through the windshield, vaguely aware that I was driving a car on the highway. I'm not sure exactly how long I sat there, staring with my mouth hanging open. I was eventually stirred out of my near-catatonic state when I noticed that a blue light on my dashboard had just come on. I looked down at the light, and read the letters, "ABS."

So, within about fifteen minutes of freeing my car from the garage, one of the windows broke, and my anti-lock brake system stopped working.

Good one, God. I can't wait to see what you do to top it.
- Bernie  ¶ 4:10 PM 0 comments

Bye To Buying Dear Blog:
I have finally figured out how to keep myself from getting ripped off. I'm not buying anything ever again. My days as a consumer are over.

You hear that IKEA?!

You hear that Ace Hardware?!

You hear that K-Mart, Wal-Mart, Sears, Cicuit City, Best Buy, Amazon, Home Depot, Shoprite, KFC?!

IT'S OVER!!!!

May God have mercy on the economy.

Hmm, maybe I shouldn't have included Shoprite or KFC. I mean, I still have to eat, don't I?
- Bernie  ¶ 9:53 PM 0 comments

Screwed Yet Again I got a flyer in the mail about a new Ace Hardware store opening up near me. In it, they had a grand opening special on a set of 10 Stanley screwdrivers, complete with a rack suitable for mounting on the wall, for only $4.95. My old screwdrivers are pretty worn out, so I couldn't pass up this sale. It took all day, but I finally managed to talk Frank into stopping by the store on the way home from work. I had to promise to make it quick. He kept the engine running while I ran in and bought the screwdriver set.

When I got home, the guy that Sears sent over to replace the garage door was already working on on it, and my mom was outside keeping an eye on him. My mom and I chatted for a bit and then she went back to her trailer.

I mounted the screwdriver set to the garage wall while the repair guy was replacing the door, which gave me an opportunity to keep an eye on him without being too obvious about it. After I had mounted it on the wall, I felt pretty good about my purchase. Then I noticed that the set had two identical 1 1/2 inch flathead screwdrivers. This just didn't seem right. I went into the house to look at the flyer. The photo in the flyer shows, plain as day, that one of the 1 1/2 inch screwdrivers should have been a philips head screwdriver.

Damn it all to hell.
- Bernie  ¶ 6:19 PM 0 comments

Hitching A Ride Dear Blog:
My car is still trapped in the garage. Yesterday, I managed to get a ride home from work from a guy named Frank who I kinda know from work. He lives just a few minutes from me. When we got to my place, I asked him if he wouldn't mind driving me to work the next day. He looked surprised. He said, "You mean you're not getting the garage door fixed tonight? I told him that I called Sears to fix it, but that they couldn't send somebody over until the next day.

He turned off his car engine, hopped out of the car, and tried to open the garage door himself. He huffed and puffed and pulled so hard on that garage door that you would have thought that it was his own car trapped in there. It was a heroic effort, but the door wouldn't budge.

Frank wiped sweat from his brow as he briskly headed back to his car, yelling, "7:30 in the AM, sharp!" He got in his car and sped off. I guess he was running late for something.

Thanks for the ride, Frank!

Your new friend,
- Bernie  ¶ 5:14 PM 1 comments

Another Crappy Day My Dad bought an automatic garage door opener from Sears and installed it in the garage a couple of years ago. This morning, I went into the garage, got in my 2004 Nissan Maxima SL, started it, and pushed the remote to the garage door opener.

The motor spun into action, and I sat there fully expecting the door to slowly open, just as it always has every day.

Instead, I sat and watched as the garage door cracked horozontally near the top, and the automatic garage door opener tore the top part of the door away from the bottom, which stood firmly in place like The Great Wall of China, blocking any hope of me getting my car out of the garage.

I tried to open what was left of the the door manually, but it wouldn't budge. Cursing under my breath and kicking the door were equally ineffective.

Now my car is trapped like a roach in a roach motel until I can get the door fixed.

I took a cab to work. I was twenty minutes late, miles from home, $40 poorer, and without a car.

The sound of the steam coming out of my ears barely drowned out the sound of God laughing at me.
- Bernie  ¶ 2:21 PM 0 comments

I Protest! I just noticed an awkwardly-worded sentence in the IKEA petition that I posted on petitiononline.com. The line reads, "We don't care if we have to wait a little longer waiting in line."

Wait longer waiting? What was I thinking?

Or maybe I wasn't thinking. Maybe I just thought I was thinking.

This would have been better:

"We don't care if we have to wait in line a little longer."

Yeah, that works.

It's a shame I can't edit the petition, but to be fair to the people who sign it, editing is not allowed. Maybe I should start a petition against petitiononline.com, but I kid.

I hope that people will overlook my poor writing and sign the petition. I'm going to lose sleep over this, I just know it.  ¶ 8:37 PM 0 comments

We Shall Overcome! (Bag My Spatula II) Dear Blog:
Remember me telling you about IKEA not bagging my spatula? Well, I've decided to start a petition to get IKEA to agree to start bagging merchandise for their customers.

To read and sign the petition, please click here.

Let's show IKEA that we will not bag our own stuff!
- Bernie  ¶ 3:28 PM 3 comments

Len Can Rot In Hell Dear Blog:
Today, I called Len, my old coworker from my first job (see previous post). I told him about my new-old house, my roomba, my new blog, my new spatula, my new coffee table, and my quest for coasters. At first, it was nice just catching up.

And then I brought up the old days...

I said, "Remember those guys who ratted me out to the boss?"

He says, "Yes, and speaking of which...," and he goes on to tell me that he was glad to hear from me, because there's somthing that he's been dying to get off his chest.

My immediate thought was, "Oh, crap."

He tells me that he felt bad because he wasn't entirely honest with me back when I was fired, some garbage about not wanting to hurt my feelings. Apparently, he's not as sensitive as he used to be, but hey, at least he's discovered honesty. He tells me that all of my coworkers, including him, ratted me out to the boss. I said, "So it was your fault that the boss caught me red-handed?!"

"Brown-mouthed is more like it," he muttered.

My "old friend" Len has officially been scratched off my party invitation list, which brings the current list back down to my mom and dad.

Damn.
- Bernie  ¶ 3:44 PM 0 comments

My Old Friend, Len Dear Blog:
I've been thinking about the first job I had after college. I worked a shrink wrap machine in the packing wing of a candy factory. It's the only job from which I've ever been fired. The boss caught me eating some of the fudge that I should have been shrink wrapping.

I'll pause for a moment while it dawns on you that I was a fudge packer, like I haven't heard that one before. Go ahead. Yuk it up, funny boy. Hardy har har.

Got that out of your system? Good.

Anyway, I found out much later on that I was set up. Some of my coworkers, people who I thought were my friends, had told the boss that I was sampling the merchandise. I noticed that the boss was coming out on the floor more frequently, and I didn't think anything of it, unless, of course, that I was eating fudge, which, I must admit, I was unable to resist. I knew I had to be careful, and keep an eye out for the boss. Eventually, I slipped up, and the boss caught me red-handed.

You'd think the boss would be happy that one of their employees was endorsing their product, but no! They considered it stealing, and I was fired.

I haven't had fudge since.

I should call my old coworker, Len, from the packing plant. He's the one who told me I was set up. He was the only one who didn't rat me out to the boss. He's the only true friend I had there. He was a good guy.
- Bernie  ¶ 3:34 PM 0 comments

Mmm, Stupid Food Dear Blog:
Chickens are supposedly stupid, but they taste pretty good. I've heard that dolphins are smart. I wonder what they taste like. I'm guessing, not so good.

I'm off to heat up some of the stupid food in my freezer.

Later.
-Bernie  ¶ 2:54 PM 0 comments

Frozen Assets Dear Blog:
Hungry Man frozen dinners are on sale for $1.59 at my local Shoprite this week. I decided that I was going to go to the store, armed with the measurements of my freezer (11"H x 18"W x 18"D) and a tape measure, and buy as many dinners as I can fit into my freezer. In an effort to find more frozen storage, I called and asked my mom if she has any spare room in her freezer. When she asked me why, I told her about the sale.

Big mistake.

She asked me to pick up some dinners for Dad. Even though I wasn't happy about it, I asked her how many she wanted me to get. She said as many as I thought would fit in her freezer. I'm on my way to the trailer to measure my parent's freezer.

Sigh.
- Bernie  ¶ 4:44 PM 0 comments

Paltry Poultry? Dear Blog:
I saw a TV commercial for Kentucky Fried Chicken that says, "Your dollar goes further at KFC." I decided to test this at lunch today. I went to KFC, and found that my dollar went as far as it usually does. Bernie, out.
- Bernie

PS: When I got up this morning, the roomba was on! Mission accomplished.  ¶ 3:19 PM 0 comments

Make Roomba for Daddy Dear Blog:
My Roomba didn't go on at it's designated time today. The settings must have gotten reset somehow. I forgot how to program it, so I curled up on the couch and got reacquainted with the Roomba manual. It was a nice read. After reading the manual, my best guess is that static electricity caused it to lose it's schedule. I reprogrammed to go on tomorrow. Keeping my fingers crossed.
- Bernie  ¶ 5:46 PM 0 comments

Coasting Through Life Dear Blog:
I bought a new coffee table yesterday. My parents had taken the old one with them when they moved to the trailer in the yard. When I got home with my new coffee table, I realized that I should have picked up a set of matching coasters. Now I have a coffee table, but I can't put coffee on it. How do I get myself into these predicaments?
-Bernie  ¶ 3:52 PM 2 comments

Spring Forward With the exception of Arizona and Hawaii and some parts of Indiana, if you live in the United States, then you should have set your clocks ahead one hour this weekend for daylight savings time. At 2 AM this morning, it became 3 AM. My cable box, microwave oven, computer, and roomba reset themselves, but I had to set my kitchen clock and alarm clock manually. While I was at it, I figured I'd take the opportunity to synchronize all the clocks and watches in my house to the US Government National Bureau of Standards atomic clock. Nothing beats the time-telling accuracy of a caesium-133 atom. I still have to do the car, but that's just one push of a button.

No rest for the weary.
- Bernie  ¶ 3:14 PM 0 comments

Never Leave Things At My Place Dear Blog:
I was tidying up the guest room last night, and I found a bottle of nail polish that my mother left the last time she stayed over (she and Dad were having a spat). I wanted to go to the trailer and return it to her, but it was a little too late in the evening for that, so I didn't. There was nothing on TV, and I was bored, and the next thing you know: I'm painting my toenails.

If anybody can tell me how to get this stuff off, please leave a comment. In the meantime, I'm keeping my socks on.

TTFN.
- Bernie  ¶ 2:25 PM 0 comments

You Gotta Have Friends Dear Blog:
My next door neighbors had a big party last night. There were cars parked all up and down the block, even in front of my house. It's a public street, so they have a right to park there. I just wish the neighbors would have given me a "heads up." I mean, what if I was having a party too? Where would my guests park? Also, would it have hurt them to invite me to their party? I should throw a party and not invite my neighbors. That would show them. All I have to do is make some friends. The rest is easy.
- Bernie  ¶ 1:15 PM 1 comments