There's a Genetic Reason I Haven't Sold You a Tyler-o-Pedic

My writing has recently taken a more technical angle. I'm writing grant proposals to conduct an important genetic study. This is a study whose results will provide conclusive data to support a well-known hypothesis never tested as of today.

I have been collecting my very preliminary data, most of which was jotted down on the back of a Dora the Explorer singing birthday card after a few hours of beer pong. I would have collected more data, but Dora's singing drove me to drown the card in the toilet. My data collection is therefore somewhat incomplete.

My genetic study will confirm that members of families that own and run furniture stores inherit one of two genes from their successful parents. The majority of their offspring will inherit a gene that prevents the family member from recognizing the embarrassment of their own relatives. The remainder, a very small percentage, inherit a gene that compels them to star in every single one of their own commercials despite their pitiful performance and the feedback of their marketing department, employees, and anyone else unrelated to them.

The combination of these genes clearly results in a successful business. But, I suspect that it's their business acumen and strategic development that has allowed them the opportunity to get in front of a camera and not a care for a moment about little things like humility or the reputation of their teenage kids.

A few mutations of these genes have also been documented in the literature. One particular mutation causes furniture store owners to lose control of their bowels every time the director yells "Action!" Another mutation results in the frequent outbursts of laughter at the simple mention of a "love seat" followed by hours of pointing at the film crew's bums and yelling "I'll sell you a better one!"

Once my grant proposals are accepted, my research will enter the next phase. This involves collecting genetic material from my subjects. I plan to show up to the commercial filmings, which must happen twice a day given the frequency of new ads, and collect biological samples. This should be easy to collect, given the stain-proofing substances on all of their furniture. I'll simply wait until they break and swipe a hair off the love seat. And in this case, I do mean the furniture.

Sending Mixed Signals About Hitting

In my house, we reward a toddler's "no hitting" behavior with a big high five. As in, "Good job not hitting your sister back. Now, slap hit my hand as hard as you possibly can before I hug you."

Dispensable Feedback

I am getting settled in the new job and plan to start writing more often. Is that ok with you?

I appreciate feedback. While in the men's room at work today, the motion-activated paper towel dispenser activated in a moment when I was far from it (please don't ask me where). It was proactive in giving it's feedback. Unfortunately, I don't know what it's intentions were. Perhaps it wanted to be there for me when I most needed it. Or rather was it a cute motorized way of saying "hurry up"?

Rt. 90 East / Greenland

Driving along Rt 495 west of Boston, there are signs for Rt. 90 (aka the Mass Pike). They indicate that Rt.90 WEST will take me to Albany NY. I know that thse signs for the Mass Pike are also displayed in Boston, as far away from Albany as you can get in the state of Massacusetts. This is very helpful, because if I were ever to go to another state a couple hundred miles away, I definitely wouldn't plan ahead so as to know in which direction to go. Instead, I would rely completely on the signs alone.

Minutes from World's Most Boring Meeting

40.5 drop ceiling tiles of three different shades
1 mystery stain
4 standard fluorescent lights, 1 with a broken cover
2 sprinklers, which I prayed and prayed would go off 10 minutes into the meeting

Is that a baby monitor in your pocket?

Is that a wireless baby monitor in your pocket or do your pants always cry like a toddler when they don't want to sleep?

Creative Playthings

In case anyone finds my phone and looks through the contacts: "Creative Playthings" is a SWINGSET MANUFACTURER. Please get your heads out of the gutter. Thank you.

Mintfinity

Dear faithful readers,

Thanks so much for your patience while I put writing on hold for a few weeks as I get oriented at the new job. In the meantime, I hope you will dedicate the time that you typically spend reading my words to a new activity. This should be easy given that both only take a minute, perhaps two, of your otherwise valuable time.

If you ever thought that my writing was humorous, then you clearly haven't met or read my friend Matt who writes the Modern Day Critic at www.moderndaycritic.wordpress.com. But wait! Before you go read his blog later, keep reading mine for another moment. Stay focused people!

Matt has entered a contest to name the new Stride Gum. Please help a friend and fellow blogger out by voting for his entry, Mintfinity. Please go to www.stridegum.com and vote Mintfinity. If you do, he and I will love you for Mintfinity.

Thanks!

Fingertips, Class of 2009

My new work computer is an IBM Thinkpad laptop. This model has the option of using your fingerprint to enable it's biometric security. Personally, I'm disappointed they aren't yet using the retina scan for laptop security. I'm looking forward to the day when I can laugh at everyone (and myself) leaning over to line eyeballs up within centimeters of a screen-mounted vision system. While peering into my monitor in public places, I would comment on all the amazing things I could see inside.

When I log on to my fancy pants computer, I occasionally get prompted to "Log in to enroll your fingertips." Never in my life did I expect my fingertips to be so important. They need to be enrolled. They're all grown up, my fingertips. Today, I couldn't help but imagine a day in the future when my fingertips would don caps and gowns at biometric security graduation. I'm so proud, I'm getting all choked up.

Have You Bathed Your Chief Executive Lately?

Last week, I started a new job. I still work in the life sciences industry and work at a laboratory. As in most fields, there is local jargon and terminology. In most laboratories, chemicals and biological reagents are abbreviated. It's not uncommon to see bottles labeled with a variety of acronyms such as H20 (water), EtOH (ethanol), or WTF (unknown).

In getting to my team and the laboratory processes by way of a laboratory tour, I took note of materials, machines, and mice (there were none, but it's always good to keep tabs on 'em). I smiled when I saw a bottle labeled "CFO Wash". Of course, I realize that this is a specific reagent to the technology used in that part of the lab. However, I couldn't help but imagine that this liquid was available just in case the company's head of all things financial showed up looking a bit dusty (one gets that way from rolling around in money. Or so I hear). Naturally, my next thought was...self-applied or team-building exercise?

Spread Blogs, Not Swine Flu

You clicked it! You must send the link to this blog (www.innerhumorist.blogspot.com) to 10 friends within 24 hours or you will undoubtedly get swine flu. As this chain letter has not yet been optimized, there is a 10% failure rate for recipients in which only partial symptoms will be experienced. Therefore, 9% of my those who fail to share this blog will get the "normal" flu while 1% of them will turn into pigs. Sorry.

Okay, so I've been a little absent and clearly my fear of decreased readership is on my mind. Please stick around. I've simply been busy as I change jobs. Tomorrow is my first official day onsite. I spent the last two days in orientation getting oriented. I must now start sleeptation getting sleeped.

Tyler the Dad Has a Posse.

Tyler the Dad Has a Posse.
(I enjoyed the Shepard Fairey exhibit at the Boston Institute of Contemporary Art today.) Granted my posse consists of two toddlers and their mommy, but it's a posse nonetheless).

When I got home, I noticed an article online. The link is here, but just in case it dissolves I have pasted it here also with credits to the Boston Globe:

"BERLIN—German police said an elderly man was so annoyed at hearing the same serenade over and over that he called authorities to report his neighbors -- only to discover the culprit was a musical greeting card on his own windowsill. Police said Tuesday the 82-year-old from Goslar in central Germany told officers he was sick of the music, which would come at irregular intervals and at all hours.

Upon further investigation, police found the musical greeting card on his windowsill, where occasional breezes opened the card just enough to play an irritating tune.

Police said the retiree was happy to find out his neighbors weren't trying to annoy him."

That's hysterical! But, apparently I owe my neighbor next door an apology. I guess they haven't been singing Feliz Cumpleanos in their best Dora the Explorer voice all Winter after all. And Mrs. O'Shamrock stopped talking to me the day I suggested that her singing was worse than a 25-cent Mexican Music Box. I said Adios and forgot about it until I saw this article.

The story prompted me to find that card in my living room and throw it out immediately. But, I won't stop my visits to the local Hallmark store to see one particular Thinking Of You card. We have an understanding. She always opens up to me (no really, she does) and sings such sweet words to me. Repeatedly and confidently. Until they close the store at night and ask me to leave.

If You Lived Here, You Would Be Reading About Toilet Seats and Olive Oil By Now

I have the week off between jobs. I was going to work on my book a little, but have been too restless. Perhaps tomorrow if the weather keeps me from going outdoors as planned. In the meantime, I've been running errands and making note of humorous observations along the way. Here are several:

My to-do list took me to Lowe's. My wife had a break in her schedule, so I picked her up on the way. Once we got there she said that she was glad that she came along so that I didn't go "overboard". Apparently, this has happened before. On my list of five items was a toilet seat. We really need to replace the seat in our 1/2 bath on the first floor of our house. Since we bought the house two years ago, sitting on that thing has given visitors a good scare when they begin to slide. Obviously they haven't actually fallen off, because there would have been a post or two about it by now.

At Lowe's, the toilet seat display is very interesting. The seats are hanging vertically from the standard metal shelving that they have throughout the store. I imagine that they are hanging like this, because they want to prevent folks from trying them out for comfort. Once we selected a seat based on visual inspection alone, we discovered that the new seats were behind the hanging displays. They were hung pretty high and a bit awkward to move. Therefore, one would have overheard in Aisle 12: Can you please lift the toilet seat while I pull one of those suckers out?

While driving to a meeting this afternoon, I noticed a run down beer and liquor store with no cars in the parking lot. The large sign out front said:

Ask About Our Olive Oil

ATM Inside

I'm not an expert on marketing, but I have a feeling that they need to change their sign if they want to sell more, I dunno, beer and liquor? It's not the olive oil or the ATM that's bringing people in. Who's running inside and asking for recommendations on olive oil? Something that goes well with fish and my in-laws. Oh and I'm going to buy a lot, so do you happen to have an ATM?

A popular chain of coffee shops now offers "Artisan Sandwiches". If sandwich making is an art, then I'm Picasso. Joking aside, please point me in the direction of the next Sandwich Artisan Open Studios.

I was in a clothing store today looking at dress socks. I wondered, how often to guys actually buy the combo of three socks of different shades? I can understand how this works for kids - stripes, polka dots, and dancing bunnies. But, how often does someone look at the package and think, Wow, those match my khaki, taupe, and dancing bunny pants perfectly! I would bet that 2/3 of the dress sock trio end up in the back of the drawer indefinitely.

Today, I also saw a sign in front of an apartment complex that read "If you lived here, you'd be home by now." I thought this sign was funny and creative when used in front of the condominiums along Storrow Drive in downtown Boston to taunt the drivers sitting in traffic. But, in the suburbs the sign doesn't make any sense. You could hang that sign anywhere and it would be true. It led me to think about how this sign could be more interesting under different circumstances:

If you lived here, you'd be dead by now. (Cemetery)
If you lived here, you'd have ten wives by now. (Polygamist Commune)
If you lived here, you'd be running a successful drug trafficking business by now. (Vacant Warehouse)
If you lived here, you'd be taking this sign down by now. (Anywhere)

Please leave a comment and tell me what else you would be doing by now if you lived here...

Why Is Toilet Paper Embossed Anyways?

While at a popular coffee shop, I used the men's room. I noticed an unwrapped roll of toilet paper with the manufacturer's name, Envision, on it. That's very appropriate for a company who wants you to be forward-thinking when using their product or especially when planning to use their product (or not). In other words, try to "envision" a scenario where you didn't have any toilet paper.

As a side note, I Googled the product and the company and found advertisements for their "embossed" toilet paper. Subsequently, and not by accident, I found an online dictionary entry for "embossed" that read: "to mold or carve in relief". We've now moved from appropriate to inappropriate.

Wearing Many Hats. Literally.

Although it was quite ambitious and a challenge to sustain, I miss the days of posting my humorous observations every day. Please do not misunderstand the more recent pauses between postings. It is not that there isn't any humor to share, but rather I've been laughing too hard to type. Okay, so that is only partially true. I've also been very busy. For now, I'll share a few things on my mind.

First of all, I'm still enjoying my Kreativ Blogger Award. However, with it comes the great responsibility of tagging two more bloggers worthy of the Award. I've been too busy to articulate my nominations, but plan to do so soon. It also wasn't helpful that I briefly lost the award. It's actually a virtual award, but I carry it everywhere. The morning after I received it, I was excited to take it to work. I carried it to my car along with my laptop and lunch. However, I must have left it on my car's roof and drove off without realizing it. Needless to say, my award fell off the roof and shattered into a million (virtual) pieces. Boy, was I embarrassed. So, I've been looking all week for a new one. As part of my strategy, I even posted "in search of" ads online in hopes of finding a suitable replacement. One particular ad, which offered massages in exchange for a new or "like new" Kreativ Blogger Award, got me in a bit of trouble with the police. In the end, I decided to make my own with the same virtual materials used to make the first one. Back on track, I'm planning to write more about my nominations soon.

This past week was my last week at my most recent job. It included a lot of dining out for lunch and dinner with friends and coworkers. One such outing was to a barbecue restaurant that also specialized in "chicken and waffles". Surprisingly, this is not the humorous part of the story. But, it's at least worth mentioning that I never thought that I would enjoy a waffle topped with fried chicken, 5 herb butter, maple syrup, and honey mustard sauce would be so good. One Inner Humorist reader made me proud with a great joke, including the words "waffle" and "chicken", when referring to another coworker's indecision about joining us for lunch.

The humorous part of the chicken and waffles experience was what happened when we ordered. As far as I could tell, there were three people working; the cashier, the cook, and The Expediter. The cashier did all the cooking and the cook did all the cashiering. Just kidding. Their roles and responsibilities were clear. The Expediter also had an important role. Actually, he had two. He stood near the chef behind a stainless steel table and faced the seating area. As the chef completed meals, he placed them on the table. When an order was complete, he yelled loudly "Order UP!" He then promptly walked around the table and picked up the order and bring it to the awaiting customer. Since I was with a party of nine, I had the opportunity to watch him do this repeatedly. Was he really announcing "Order UP!" to himself? Brilliant. When you are shorthanded and wearing many hats, why not make it clear to everyone around? In fact, if I were him I would probably swap hats as I rounded the table corner. I might someday have the opportunity. When I open my coffeeshop, I might "hire" a full staff of characters all of which I will act out independently. Unfortunately this business plan is instantly flawed, because as soon as the manager asked one of the slacker employees to clean the bathroom, I would quit.

On a separate topic, why does the spellcheck on Blogger highlight "bloggers" as a misspelling, but not "blogger"? They should have more confidence. Of course there's more than one. Or perhaps I should give them the benefit of the doubt. Is there a plural for "blogger" that I am unaware of? Like Bloog, Bleeg, or Bloggerie?

Finally, if you are reading please say hi. Leave a comment or "Follow" me. I promise not to "Lead" you anywhere that doesn't have chocolate.

Lickety Split

In my house, there is a lot of singing and dancing. Despite good advice by friends and my insurance agent, I too participate in the ongoing musical that is life in my home. I've been typecast as father, but have been known to play other roles such as Tickle Dog and Woogie from Something About Mary. And given my overall positive and humorous outlook on life, there is always something to sing about.

My wife and I try, sometimes unintentionally, to turn a word or phrase into song. I've lost count of how many times I have belted out instructions for the bedtime routine in my best tenor voice. My attempted soprano is bad enough to actually expedite bedtime routines and end otherwise perfect afternoons. If the kids knew the phrase "That's an hour of playtime I'll never get back," they certainly would have used it a million times by now. I also learned quickly that singing "Do you want a timeout? (I know you do!)" to the melody of Bob the Builder isn't nearly as effective as I hoped. However when we sing "Let's Go Lickety Split!", a phrase used to imply the need for great haste, the kids laugh and laugh as they pick up their pace.

My wife and I also catch ourselves singing our conversation to each other, even when the kids are in another room. We sing our conversation.

"How was your day?" I might sing.

"Please stop singing!" she might sing back.

"Do you want a timeout? (I know you do!)" I would conclude.

It's also very normal for us to take a normal phrase and make a silly song by truncating the words and making our own version of a remix. For example, "Zippity Do Da" might easily become "Zip it, Zip it! Do it! Do it! Zip Zip Zip it! Do it and Zip it!" This play with words is almost always safe with the kids, however recently my wife suddenly transformed a g-rated activity into a x-rated one when she tried to apply the word shortening and "It" appending game on the otherwise harmless phrase "Lickety Split". Go ahead, try it.

Kreativ Juices Are Flowing My Way

One of the great things about blogging is that a blogger develops a network. Blogging is a wonderful form of social media where we can write and read about things that interest us and meet complete strangers, most of whom are comfortable laughing at each other from a distance.  The network grows when bloggers need to escape the literary mosh pit in their heads and explore other blogs (i.e. verify that there are other energetic peeps with lots to say about lots of things). 

Most of my blogger friends will never get money from me unless chocolate or massages are involved. However, tonight I owe 10 cents to a blogger friend of a blogger friend for the use of the term 'Blogousy', giving name to what I struggle with every day. 

I also owe my new friend at Disposable Aardvarks Inc some cold cash for putting me on the scoreboard. I've been awarded a Kreativ Blogger award! Thanks Krista! More about the award in a moment, but first a little more about the nominating committee. Her keyword search for "non-vegetarians that think they're funny but aren't" led her to my blog and she decided to stay anyways. Coincidentally, I found her blog while trying to dispose of my aardvark. In all seriousness, her blog is very interesting and I've learned a lot from her. I can now make great vegetarian restaurant recommendations to my wife who is one annual turkey dinner away from being a vegetarian. I also learned from her blog that a Bento Box is not a certain Ford model that's had one too many accidents, but rather something much more powerful. Go check it out. I'll be waiting.

Ok, so back to my award! I did not know much about the Kreativ Blogger Award until I won. And I wonder if this ever happens to other prestigious award winners. Somehow, I just can't picture a rising Hollywood star on the phone, saying "Oscar who?" But given how excited I am about this award, I'm sure that only the most humble yet deserving recipients are caught off guard. 

I was curious about the origins of the award, so I did a quick Google search. Whilst typing it in, I learned that the award's name was worthy of Google's autofill feature instantly informing me of 192,000 results (what a precisely round number!) It turns out that 'Blogging' was actually a term used in prehistoric times to describe the act of writing on cave walls about other caves in the region. These blogs were typically very boring, for they were always about darkness, cave wall writing tools (which also looked like weapons), and missing bloggers. One particular blogger named Kreativ, a rather chipper Neanderthal who whistled through nose while he blogged, decided to stray from convention and start blogging about his relationship with a Cro-Magnon lady friend with whom he shared a cave. This particular topic had a lot of "followers" and his fellow bloggers, out of undeniable blogousy, gave him an award for being so, well, Kreativ. 

The Kreativ Blogger award disappeared for many thousands of years until life outside of caves got interesting again, at which time it was resurrected by a very creative woman in Norway. 

As the recipient of this noble award, the honor is bestowed upon me to select two more recipients of the Kreativ Blogger. To ensure that my pride and honor are passed completely to the new recipients, I am expected to be immediately humbled again by posting 7 facts about myself.  

Therefore, since I may never receive this award again, I'm going to savor every moment. I'm going to go to sleep with my Kreativ Blogger award on my nightstand. I may peek at it throughout the night and curl up on the couch with it tomorrow morning.  Hence, I will pass this great award to new recipients within the next day or so. I will also sort through fact and fiction, and post 7 things about myself soon. 

Lions Game

Through squinting eyes, I scan the sea of baseball caps and burnt scalps before me. The ocean of sweaty fans ripples and shimmers with each out, hit, and bleacher fight. Today, the mid-July temperature and relative humidity are tied in their race towards 100. Shiny beach balls reflect the sun's searing rays as they bounce aimlessly through the stadium, occasionally getting lost amongst brightly covered sunbrellas and half-naked fans covered in body paint inspired by team spirit and alcohol. One group of five shirtless men, one painted letter displayed proudly on each middle-aged belly, have misspelled the home team's fierce name as L-O-I-N-S. Later this evening, their "hear us roar" attitudes will wear off as they part ways and ride the bus home as 'L' or wave down a taxi as 'I'.

Toll Plaza

When aiming my car, whilst speeding or inching along, towards a brightly-painted narrow passageway to pay a highway toll, I somehow miss the "plaza" part of the experience. 

A Very Important Announcement

Public relations professionals for politicians, professional athletes, and celebrities have given me a great idea. 

Therefore, this post is an announcement.  I would like to announce that tomorrow, I will announce an announcement about an upcoming announcement. This announcement or one of the subsequent announced announcements will generate more discussion than the final announcement. Hence, I may never actually need to make said final announcement.  The news about these high profile announcements will already have been leaked to the media and speculation will result in the creation of a very interesting new story. Please make it good and designed to elevate my world popularity in a very positive way. I look forward to it. Thank you.