Farblog

Quit your job and get a new one.

Yep, that’s right- I, Ryan, got a new job.

Well since i’m in the mood for updating things that don’t ever get updated,

Happy T Day - Very Late

Merry Christmas- Very Early.

 Hope you get your Wii or PS3 or frozen chicken pops or whatever your heart desires.

Ever notice when you eat spaghetti o’s AKA cheesy rings AKA Spaghetti p’s, you never chew them?

I wish we could all quit our jobs, buy really expensive computers, put a toilet in our home offices and make this whole “farbnode” thing take off.  But no.  freaking.  way.   Money rules us all.

 Like Dan and I have said many-a-time, we get great ideas, spend some money to get it going, make it look cool and do nothing with at all.  We would all love to see this take off.  We really would.

 Here’s to finishing something.

Dan here. I just wanted to remind everyone to remember what happened onthis day five years ago. 9/11. Please. Never forget.

Send them random emails throughout the day that make no sense.

When they start to get confused ask them what they are talking about and make a “You’re Freaking Crazy” look with your eyes.

When they start getting mad at you, swivle the chair around, get up, walk over to their desk and press the power button on their computer.

No doubt they will get upset.  In retaliation just say, “You should have saved your work”

Dump salt in their coffee when they go to the bathroom.

They shouldn’t leave their desk.  God knows you’ve been working your ass off at YOUR desk.

When they ask you if you did something to their coffee simply say “No”.

Turn your head a bit and smirk

Tap your pen like you are better than the drummer of Whitesnake.  Every once in a while kick the metal part of the desk while slamming your head forward like you’ve hit the end of the last song in your encore.

And you NEVER do encores. 

I’d like to tell everyone that the USA is ranked #5 in the world.

In Soccer.

If you haven’t been paying attention, we are in the World Cup.

Since soccer isn’t a major sport in the US, we aren’t doing that good.  Being number 5 is great, but teams 4-1 are so amazing we might not be able to recover. 

Watch ESPN2 during the day and get into this incredible sport.

Damn it!

I think it’s about time someone freaking posted something.

 Put the CD in and play your favorite song.  I don’t quite know where to start yet.  I guess i’ll start rambling.

 I went back home to wish my cousin a happy graduation.  Things are a bit different there.  It’s like the farther away from cities the less people care about the cops.

 Yeah.  Cops.  I don’t quite get it. 

 I’m from a small town of 3500 people.  We were so close there that people would know when I got done taking a dump.  They would call their friend, who was my mom’s friend, who knew my uncle who saw my other friend at a bar in the bathroom who called me up and said “Hey, I heard you took a dump”. 

 That’s pretty close, i think. 

 Anyway,  I used to get pulled over all the time. 

Randomly. 

 I’d be pulling out of McDonalds Drive Thru(The only fast food place there.  Go figure) and i’d get pulled over.  The cop would throw on his lights and siren, like I hadn’t seen him sitting there for that past 10 minutes while I was getting my Biggie M(Big Mac) and Coke.  After he got me to the side of the “road”, he’d sit there for 45 freaking minutes.  Who knows what the hell he’s doing.  I think once, I got pulled over and the cop got on the cell phone to tell his wife to make home made donuts.  45 minutes later, he would get out and would walk to the car all cautious-like with his hand on his side arm.  I’d be all shaking and wondering what in the hell I could have done wrong in that past 6 feet.  Of course, we all go through that last part. 

Por Ejemplo:

You could have been going 65 miles an hour, doing wheelies with your 1984 Firebird down the drive thru and get pulled over.  You would sit there thinking what you possibly could have done to get the attention of a cop.  There was NO WAY your were speeding (because, face it, the car can’t go that fast without shaking violently and ejecting you from the car). 

God.. forget about doing wheelies.  You have to have tires that aren’t bald for that part

Oh well, somehow he got you.  

Back to my story. 

He’d catch my eye in my rearview mirror and I would feel a tear fall down my cheek.  He’d approach the window. 
“License and Registration Please”. 

I hate that line.  Couldn’t you say something better? like “Nice Wheelie!”? 

Anyway, I’d fumble around my glove compartment, looking for something that resembles a Registration.  I would come to the discovery that I didn’t have it in there. 

I never did. 

I planned on it.  I just never got around to it.

Wait, maybe I did.  Yeah, I think I used it to clean up Ketchup off the crotch of my pants on my way to Interview at Walmart for a managers position that I was way under qualified for.

 To Be continued