tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-315915392012-02-09T08:00:40.145-05:00What a cheautiful, cheautiful burch. Many thinkle peep so. Mardon me, padam, but you're occupewing the wrong pie. If you'll aollow me down the file, I'll sew you to another sheet.Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.comBlogger1081100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-33092800683932992842012-02-09T07:54:00.003-05:002012-02-09T08:00:40.152-05:00

Idea People make me want to puke.And by that I mean these bright-eyed, toothy-grinning, vacant nincompoops who spend their days blowing spitbubbles and staring at their beige ceilings, THEN, at usually the very end of the day, send out emails to a scattershot of various doers, middle management, and grand frommages suggesting that we do something obvious and/or unattainable that will solve all

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-4476657924583779802012-01-17T09:24:00.003-05:002012-01-17T09:30:53.784-05:00

He comes to see me every day. Sometimes twice, three times in a day. No matter if I look busy or not, he sticks his head in my cube and just... starts... talking.He natters on about things I could care less about. He repeats himself. He tells me stories that he's told me, honestly, literally a dozen times before.He laughs at his own jokes BEFORE HE TELLS THEM. He's sure everything HE finds

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-8543184351078624742010-09-22T12:00:00.011-04:002010-09-23T09:09:28.525-04:00

With apologies to all of the good/bad, awesome/bogus, in/out lists in the world, here is my Sweet / Fuck. Me. list for the workplace, just this week.Everybody EVERYBODY everybody in this honkin’ building thinks I’m the answer man. I get asked questions regarding areas I have NOTHING to do with. They expect answers, and are PISSED OFF when I have nothing for them or they’re PISSED OFF at the

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-18637336468624289562010-09-10T15:35:00.003-04:002010-09-10T15:35:59.878-04:00

... are not good to entertain at 3:30 p.m. on a Friday afternoon.Just sayin'.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-11400247859343814022010-08-30T13:14:00.006-04:002010-08-30T13:44:44.878-04:00

There are days I feel like Sam Lowry.I work in a self-fulfilling bureaucracy, that being an agency that ofttimes finds particularly new and charming ways of screwing itself. Into the ground. Deeply.To wit: I am responsible (heh) for a contract for an annual service we use here at the Glorious Palace of All Knowledge. It's a good service. We like it. I'll call it the Wonderful Service. No one else

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-57248144187738722852010-08-26T17:12:00.002-04:002010-08-26T17:20:37.895-04:00

I have a high-paying, very secure job with amazing benefits. I have an enlightened, non-screamy boss. I work at arguably the most interesting place in the country, even the world, with a bunch of really neat, nice, smart, cool people.So I KNOW. Shut UP.But still, shit drives me crazy. Things that you KNOW can be done better, smarter, cooler, faster, BETTER -- can't be done. Stupid bureaucratic

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-26614837149686873432010-08-13T08:22:00.001-04:002010-08-13T08:23:21.275-04:00

You start humming "All You Need Is Love" in your head, only to have the lyrics shift over to "Stab You In the Eye."All together now!

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-7509560014656592002010-08-12T16:14:00.003-04:002010-08-12T16:48:31.344-04:00

Just looking in long enough to note that I really really really love The Bloggess. And to really get her, read about a year of her posts. Seriously. Funny funny sad happy cool life-affirming absurdist stuff.And one of her friends writes THIS blog: Mommy Needs a Cocktail. I have no idea if it's any good, but with a title like that, what's not to like?

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-7707033746833588332010-06-29T14:08:00.001-04:002010-06-29T14:12:46.604-04:00

It's happened before, but not for awhile, and it always brings me up short when it happens.Out for a working breakfast today with a couple of publishing types from the New York City area. After a fairly lengthy discussion on various ideas for partnership, we exchanged some personal background.The fact that I was borned, raised, schooled and now live in the Mountain State of West Virginia was a

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-75120304966429977622010-05-27T13:59:00.006-04:002010-05-28T09:41:52.715-04:00

It all started with a simple request. Get the boss his new model of Blackberry, and have the agency IT group link it up. Sounds fair, since I'm one of the two people in the office who can do this kind of procurement. (That's what we call "buyin' junk" in the gummamint.)So I buy said Blackberry and present it to the Division IT gal up on the top floor. She bitches me out, as I'm supposed to

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-51853405887953444832010-04-30T11:20:00.004-04:002010-04-30T13:57:06.986-04:00

Life at the Glorious Temple of All Knowledge is often edifying and inspirational, but every once in awhile, it becomes apparent that we are, at the end of the day, a government agency.So my nice-guy boss authorizes everybody who didn't have one to get a new ergonomic & easy-to-adjust desk chair. And since I'm the Doer of Things that Need Done around here, the task fell to me to make it happen. ("

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-21318140310384801542010-04-16T15:41:00.003-04:002010-04-17T16:36:49.379-04:00

As I cruise, sails in full blow, into my 50s, it's more and more apparent to me the things I DO and DON'T want in life, work, etc. And being a mentor is one of the don'ts. When I was in my 20s and 30s, it was kind of flattering for the boss to delegate his responsibility (but not his authority) to me to run herd, run things, run amok. It was my first real taste of supervision, and I got to say

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-34633433337728758022010-03-05T08:48:00.002-05:002010-03-05T08:54:46.169-05:00

In my mind, I remain 26. But some things sidle up to my blind spot and conk me over the head when I ain't paying attention.For instance, last night I'm cruising the 637 channels available on my Greater Cable Box. I land on St. Elsewhere, one of my favorite shows from a bygone era. It's followed on the same network by LA Law and Hill Street Blues, terrific shows, all. And, in their day, they were

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-16717451108216600912010-01-28T07:02:00.004-05:002010-01-28T07:30:08.159-05:00

I used to be able to levitate and leave my body (not simultaneously). Honest.The levitation wasn't a huge deal. It was always while I was in bed, flat on my back, and I could rise only about two or three inches off the mattress. Couldn't go anywhere or do anything with it. Could really do it best when I was in the throes of some childhood illness and bedridden. Had to be pretty quiet, and I had

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-55519252152246995462010-01-25T06:05:00.002-05:002010-01-25T06:08:19.934-05:00

This little exchange from two acquaintances, regarding the recent Saints/Vikings playoff games.FB1: Man, none of the Saints' players thanked Jesus for the win.FB2: No one in N.O. loves Jesus, just ask Pat Robertson. FB3: Did Jesus kick the game-winning field goal? I don't think so.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-5222076476134224062010-01-19T11:56:00.002-05:002010-01-19T12:19:47.101-05:00

I'm not going to get nostalgic, because I'm not sure it was EVER anything but this way.But I completely detest gutless management. There is nothing worse in the world than people who are put in a position of responsibility -- in fact, people who have CLAWED to get that responsibility -- when they are terrified of employing it.I work at a great big gummint agency. Like all great big places, we go

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-71255299809322427972010-01-12T09:49:00.005-05:002010-06-29T14:21:36.998-04:00

Okay, six months, whatever.Today, class, we're ranting on our paranoid and excessive national response to the statistically insignificant threats to Our Homeland.I work in a federal building. A lovely, dull, strategically unimportant federal building. We happen to be linked by a series of interconnecting and secret tunnels to the Great Home of Our Republic, the Capitol Building. BUT EVEN IF WE

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-74217727924737649902009-06-24T16:08:00.003-04:002009-06-24T16:21:10.202-04:00

You all know about earworms, I hope. No, not those beasties that ate Chekov's brain in The Wrath of Khan, but those tunes that get into your head and you can't get them out. For instance, the theme to the Andy Griffith Show. Or "Help Me Rhonda." There, I've already ruined your day twice.Well I got one better on the earworms. They're more like ear-mosquito-bites. These are tunes that once you get

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-72116972593325932152009-05-14T13:55:00.002-04:002009-05-14T15:26:04.051-04:00

Another fun day at the Glorious Temple of All Knowledge:Going up to the cafeteria, hit the "up" button on the elevator. The door opened, and -- seriously -- 25 little kids dressed in identical blue outfits and bright yellow "crossing guard" belts and sashs streamed out."Jeez, it's like a clown car," I muttered to myself.The last hall monitor, a rotund, bespeckled lad of all of four feet, heard it

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-80553679181121985662009-04-27T10:39:00.002-04:002009-04-27T10:55:57.006-04:00

Just a few idle cranks:On real good days, I wear my Surrender Shoes. They are large, ugly, boxy boats (which describes MOST of my work shoes), but in this case, loafers. No laces. For those days when I can't even be bothered to bend over to dress. Eh.Okay, I've said it before and I'll say it again. Let me OUT of the elevator before you try to board the car. Don't be rude, LET ME OUT FIRST. I'm

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-73847758169042505902009-03-19T08:31:00.003-04:002009-03-19T08:35:13.718-04:00

... and this is why. Read it every day.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-55142074653621007062009-03-18T21:00:00.004-04:002009-03-18T21:06:07.269-04:00

Apologies for the cross-posting on Facebook. But I think this is pretty important.I'm a fan and regular listener to the radio-documentary-magazine-potpourri series "This American Life." Usually just good fun and terrific slices of life. But over the past few months, they've done several episodes that managed to distill the trenchant details of some of The Big Problems of Our Most Recent Times and

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-66374993144869065982009-03-05T10:30:00.003-05:002009-05-14T13:50:38.424-04:00

Lots of folks come to the Glorious Temple of All Knowledge. I was stepping onto the elevator today when three giggly, befurred and bleached-blonde specimens bounced off the car, babbling in some slavic tongue. "Vhere is cawfee-teria?" one of them asked me. I pointed them in the right direction, and a second one burbled back at me. "Oh tenk you! I am seeink sign!"Couldn't figure THIS one out. Grad

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-56089147739271257272009-02-25T21:21:00.002-05:002009-02-25T21:43:48.571-05:00

Is it wrong to love... to FALL in love with someone... (someone who will never reciprocate this love)... but to fall desperately in love with someone because he is amazingly terrific at his job?You know by now that I work at the Glorious Temple of All Knowledge, that whirlpool of joy in a seal of federal grayness. But it is just that federal grayness that fills our ranks with soul-dead vocational

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-1801188226690886312009-01-24T08:46:00.003-05:002009-01-24T08:59:42.266-05:00

I came back to work on the day after the Inauguration and was amazed, stunned, at how ... neat and tidy Capitol Hill was. I mean, we had 2 million stinky tourists or so swarming the place. And with any big event (July 4, for instance), there's always a one-or-two-day trash hangover. But my work neighborhood looked pretty damned spotless the day after the biggest crowd in Washington history

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-10535086922602282242009-01-22T15:51:00.003-05:002009-01-22T16:12:31.562-05:00

I hate to move away from the Big Warm Glow that seems to be infusing our National Capitol and beyond in the wake of the installation of the new regime, but something cheesed me off today.I'm walking down the sidewalk along Pennsylvania Avenue (yes, THAT one) to pick up some lunch, when I hear an uncommon sound out there, in the 10-degree noontime sun: the canned voices of news announcers. I look

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-15346169171957759252009-01-08T08:12:00.002-05:002009-01-08T08:47:17.363-05:00

Since the majority of my seven readers are over 30, I feel comfortable addressing another topic in Impending Fogey-ality (Fogeiarity? Fogeytude?)...If there's one thing my four-year stint at a small college of distinction convinced me of (however erroneously), it's that I could pretty much do anything I wanted to, if I just put my mind to it. (It certainly wasn't grammar.) The tiny school

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-8247644578669860232009-01-06T14:59:00.003-05:002009-01-06T15:53:16.202-05:00

Yep, I'm there. Like many of us middle-aged fogeys, I've taken the plunge and joined the Facebook Revolution. I was wary, skeptical, somewhat dubious and highly suspect. (I still am highly suspect, but that's another post.) But there I am and here I am, six months later, with 145 friends (yow). What's the deal?Well, let me tell you. I'm hooked. And it's not like the way I was hooked on Tetris, or

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-88501651532961102272008-12-16T16:31:00.004-05:002008-12-16T17:04:56.222-05:00

I know how much we all need the mid-winter revelry, the Christmas, the yule, the Festivus. I am the VERY FIRST to start bitching and moaning about winter, and all the grumpiness, binge-eating-drinking-sleeping and borderline personality behavior it brings out in me.And I truly recognize that the Very Best Solution for a whole ton of grump like that is an excuse to be holly and jolly and eat and

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-86232997536213147412008-12-11T08:15:00.002-05:002008-12-11T08:16:33.328-05:00

* but with credit.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-57159036496687680542008-12-03T16:11:00.003-05:002008-12-03T16:19:02.706-05:00

Two items from our slushpile of occasionally-read newsfeeds...Sen. Harry Reid (D-Nev.), bigwig mucky-muck for the majority over in that section of the Capitol, had this to say at the opening of the new, giant, underground, air-conditioned Capitol Visitors Center:In Reid's remarks, he noted that if nothing else, the indoor facility will end the permeation of tourists' body odor, since they'll no

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-49023460006345979042008-12-03T15:18:00.005-05:002008-12-03T15:23:49.017-05:00

Not bragging or anything, but --This week... no, YESTERDAY, in fact, Boy Genius here established a $50,000 charitable endowment for a local park AND signed the paperwork for a $1.55 million municipal bond issue to upgrade and improve a public water supply.So YES, I deserve the rest of the week off. And I want to hibernate, thanks. Seeya.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-36814739726696201512008-11-26T15:18:00.005-05:002008-11-26T16:39:55.748-05:00

Once again, it's the onset of winter that's putting me into this foul mood, I'm certain. While things in my various work lives and personal lives are, of course, busier than ever, it's surely nothing terribly new.THEY SHALL LEARN THE FOLLY OF THEIR WAYS, AND I SHALL DESTROY THEIR PATHETIC CIVILIZATIONSI think it's probably the coming holidays that really get me spinning. I realize that they are

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-22185219518339009412008-11-24T09:42:00.003-05:002008-11-24T13:35:54.788-05:00

She continues to buzz around our lives, much like pre-post-during-meltdown Britney and in-out-of-jail Paris.Go away! We really meant it when we said we didn't want to see you anymore! No matter what anyone else says!UPDATE: Oh jeez. Really. I'm serious now. Go away! We're going to have to get a restraining order, I swear.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-88363620692738217752008-11-18T10:07:00.000-05:002008-11-18T10:21:17.268-05:00

I have a job. I go to a big building almost every day. I sit in a cube when I'm not in meetings. Besides lunch, here's what I do, with a time percentage breakdown:50% Wiping Dirty Bottoms. This entails serving my boss, my boss's bosses, my coworkers, other assorted types and the masses at large. Giving answers to people who are paid to know the answers to the questions they ask me. Repeating

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-85854914873104124192008-11-13T19:49:00.002-05:002008-11-13T19:54:28.909-05:00

I've been pretty quiet, but not for lack of things to think about and yap about. Just been too serious lately. But I just had to get one more bit of seriousness off my chest. I really liked what James K. Galbraith had to say in the first couple of paragraphs of his short essay in the latest issue of Harper's, so I share. I share, because I love:The problem is not how to save capitalism but how to

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-44327393031918535182008-10-06T21:15:00.003-04:002009-05-14T13:49:52.211-04:00

Back at the Glorious Temple of All Knowledge, I'm trying to better my pear-shaped, er, shape by taking the steps when I can. (Sure, we only have eight floors, but they're TALL floors.) And on those bigass concrete gummamint-building stairwells, I have found a rich subculture.Regular readers know that many, many of the people who work here at the Glorious Temple are, well, crazy. So I should not

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-72599363485313425592008-09-23T08:39:00.002-04:002008-09-23T08:59:41.713-04:00

Well, we come at last to brain-boggling "found" humor in the workplace. Selected software names redacted to protect the clueless. I've left the capitalization intact. Every [Inertiaware] User must follow [Tech Office] Directive 02, Password Directive:1 - Every USER WITH an account ON an [Agency] SYSTEM IS responsible FOR safeguarding ACCESS TO that account.2 - A PASSWORD must NEVER ever be SHARED

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-2828868438676479212008-09-17T21:22:00.004-04:002008-09-17T21:38:11.663-04:00

It's corny, but some days my boss is My Hero.Here we are, working at the Supreme Temple of All Knowledge, lodged in the very maw of the hellmouth, Ground Zero, the slowly-rotating nexus of all gray bureaucracy. Cheer stifling, soul crushing, "get-back-to-work-YOU" mentality, brain numbing Federal employment.Well, he's sort of fun. And he writes our company blog. MOST of the time, he puts a lid on

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-50157800414754421072008-09-05T08:58:00.003-04:002008-09-05T09:18:26.711-04:00

Okay, we've all had them. Those dreams in which you find yourself naked. They fall, generally, into two camps:1) Sex dreams (hardly ever, sigh); and2) Dreams where you're late for the senior high school Calculus exam after missing class for three weeks and not understanding a damn thing about the subject anymore, and when you finally DO sit down to take the test a half-hour into the final, you

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-51971560053805005992008-09-04T08:21:00.001-04:002008-09-04T08:21:00.671-04:00

Another great from the pantheon of childhood icons passes: Walter "Killer" Kowalski, meat-and-potatoes bad-guy wrestler extraordinaire. He was right up there with Haystacks Calhoon, Jumpin' Johnny Defazio, and a dozen or so other greats from when rasslin' was local and most of the antics were reserved for inside the ring instead of outside.I love this quote from the NY Times obituary, part of the

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-22121323935165764962008-09-03T09:42:00.002-04:002008-09-03T09:47:53.372-04:00

Coming in to work, saw a flashing road sign indicating some upcoming roadside gardening. Brain saw:INVASIVETREE WORKAHEADWATCH FORMONKEYSOf course, it really said "Watch for Workers." But then I envisioned either machinery that would grab the trees and shake them hard, causing the little chimps to fall out of the trees, landing on car roofs...OR (even better), a chittering band of happy apes,

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-41167645893875133612008-08-22T11:58:00.007-04:002008-09-02T09:22:24.988-04:00

Okay, I know I've gone on about this before. But I'm a big guy. I'm not sure where it came from: my mom and dad were shrimps, and two older sisters also on the runty side. My older brother and I are both 6-foot-plus. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that he and I were both born just downriver after the first nuclear power station in America was opened.Anyway THAT, plus my prodigious appetites

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-90625347436095205402008-07-26T15:35:00.003-04:002008-07-26T16:01:08.932-04:00

I've never intended this little platform to be a diary of inner thoughts, etc., as much as I've wanted it to be a little writerly playground for me to spin tales and make wry observations for the general entertainment of a tiny, tiny circle of bored readers. However, I'd feel odd not mentioning the two things this year that have kind of taken some of the wind from my sails and kept me from being

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-63421017868256147422008-06-19T08:36:00.003-04:002008-06-19T09:25:19.500-04:00

Boys and girls, West Virginia Day is coming fast. Tomorrow, in fact. And since I don't hardly every post daily, I figured I'd better say my piece about my fatherland today.What a place of glory and misery. Highs and lows. Methamphetamine and Oxycontin.We are a place of rare, amazing beauty. But that beauty seems to attract some real nutjobs. And what we don't bring in, we find homegrown.When

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-2861163817297525512008-05-29T07:51:00.004-04:002008-05-29T08:07:02.423-04:00

Having a cheerful week, more than a little because of my recent download of Season One of "Lucy, Daughter of the Devil." I'm watching a couple episodes every morning on the commute, and it makes my whole day better.The show is an acquired taste, and best described as a relationship sitcom among Satan, his goth-chick art-school-grad daughter, DJ Jesús (messiah/escape artist/house music spinner),

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-23462614735514308232008-05-13T10:08:00.002-04:002008-05-13T10:11:48.203-04:00

1) After being away from the Glorious Temple of All Knowledge for a week and a half while I did my community service as Howard Sprague, I really dreaded coming in today. So much so, that I compared to the other worst first day of my life, that of 7th Grade. Ugh.Oddly, after I got here and spent my first hour, that horrible dread lifted and was replaced by the six-inch thick comforter of malaise

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-71220646101241267962008-05-02T08:16:00.004-04:002008-05-02T08:50:20.218-04:00

I obviously need massive jolts of negative reality to get me back into my snarky blogging ways.This morning, at the end of my soul-devouring commute, I arose via the escalator from the Stygian depths of the Washington Metro towards the bright, bland grayness that is my government job, only to hear ... well... the sounds that VERY FEW people want to hear at 7:15 a.m.:The tentative plucking of an

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-83320211024158554752008-03-17T16:26:00.004-04:002008-03-17T16:43:28.638-04:00

Sick. And. Tired.This is what mothers across America used to tell you they were, of various crazy crap you pulled on them from ages 1.5-menopause. And that's how they said it, too:"I am SICK. AND. TIRED. Of ... [fill in wacky antic here]Well, at last I am one with the Mothers of America. I am pretty Sick. And. Tired. myself. Although in my case, it was more like Tired. And. Sick.Life at the

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-53823234315060755962008-01-30T08:26:00.000-05:002008-01-30T08:29:51.761-05:00

Cost of Gary Coleman's signed sweat pants: $400,000.Value to nation's blog writers (and striking comedy writers, if they was working): Priceless.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-32370190103051093532008-01-24T08:12:00.000-05:002008-01-24T08:19:23.563-05:00

I cannot get "Down Under" by Men at Work out of my head.For three days now.Gar.Mmmmmm... vegemite.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-25798273884763669772008-01-07T09:05:00.000-05:002008-01-07T14:59:15.184-05:00

Granted, it's just another leaf off the grand tree of existence *, but with the Noo Yeer I always tend to reexamine, reevaluate, and strategerize for the next 12-month slog through brutal existence.This year, I'm looking at ways of dealing with the misery-inducing aspects of my work. (N.B. I love most of my job. It's so good, that the 20-25% of it that is awful just seems thrice as bad.) Meetings

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-20482964400416352982007-12-21T08:04:00.000-05:002007-12-21T08:19:02.067-05:00

Just a short note to wish all four of my regular readers a Merry Christmas and Happy 2008. You'll get a Christmas card eventually. We tend to work 1-4 weeks behind at Chez Rooty.Until then, please enjoy this little illustration of the TRUE meaning of Christmas: getting that Red Ryder BB rifle you always wanted, then shooting your eye out on Christmas morning.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-22033799951125119082007-12-19T10:23:00.000-05:002007-12-19T10:27:27.943-05:00

I liked it. Lots of other people liked it. One guy liked it, and it got him fired.When these things happen, the drunken lemurs win.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-3574804844612490552007-11-29T08:11:00.001-05:002007-11-29T08:47:13.621-05:00

Coming down the escalator on the Metro today. A few feet ahead of me, one of the commuters, a tiny woman, steps off the escalator, takes two steps and stops dead, blithely looking to and fro.Behind her, me and a couple dozen other experienced and large commuters begin to pile up, unable to rapidly sidestep this little speed bump and wary of trampling her like we should (and believe you me, no

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-91683697947124799292007-11-19T22:19:00.000-05:002007-11-19T23:22:17.374-05:00

My blogging buddies Aloseh and Nooty-the-Smack--and the advent of the Christmas season--inspired me to revisit an old Joy of Commuting, actually my favorite in all these halcyon days of DC-Metro riding.A few years back, about once a week on my subway train, between any two random stops, a very well-dressed, middle-aged Korean gentleman would enter the car, stand in the aisle, and sing -- in very

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-69359574693547807412007-11-15T08:11:00.000-05:002007-11-15T09:01:57.844-05:00

Going home on our Disneyesque DC subway system was more crowded than usual last night, what with the sudden, unexpected rain.The cars were crowded, and I noticed that a scrawny, balding git in the seat ahead of me had filled up the seat beside him with his backpack, rain gear, and other crap. Of course, everyone knows that this is a violation of Public Transit Etiquette, particularly in a

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-80464618044385066962007-11-13T08:45:00.001-05:002007-11-13T08:50:08.750-05:00

I typically do not remember my dreams. It's probably due to getting only 6 hours a night, or my apnea, or just general mental exhaustion. But for the past week, I've remembered, vividly, about 2-3 per night. So much so, that I end up sitting on the side of the bed in the morning for some time, trying to focus on the details, making sure I don't lose them with the first coffee of the day.They're

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-60220202084625503572007-11-09T08:25:00.000-05:002007-11-09T08:47:34.480-05:00

My little town in the hills continues to be a source of comic material. I live in a teeny town in a big, fairly sparsely-populated county. I recently heard that one of the county sheriff's deputies had been fired ... which is odd, because with all the Homeland Security mania, ANY law enforcement officer is hard to find (much less GOOD ones).Seems Our Deputy suffers from a rather explosive form of

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-85134328878791284862007-10-26T08:54:00.000-04:002007-10-26T08:57:47.692-04:00

Once every quarter or so, Scott Adams nails it. The garbageman shaman, he speaks great truth:www.dilbert.com/comics/dilbert/archive/dilbert-20071026.html

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-36677799805595204572007-10-18T15:22:00.000-04:002007-10-18T15:39:23.203-04:00

My Mayberry-related post the other day made me think of my favorite character from the good old Andy Griffith days: Ernest T. Bass.Oh God, Ernest T. The very archtype of uneducated backwoods hillbilly! His way of expressing himself: throwing rocks!! THROWING HONKIN' ROCKS!!!Those Hollywood types thought they were exaggerating to comic effect. Nuh-uh. Growing up, going to college, and living a

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-75311156760359324282007-10-18T08:22:00.001-04:002009-05-14T13:53:40.974-04:00

True story, swear to God:Waiting for an elevator (and so many of these episodes occur from the elevator lobbies, don't they? Nothing GOOD every happens to me waiting for an elevator.) ... I've pressed the button to go "UP". It is lit.Shuffling flinchy ratty type comes up, gets REAL close to the call button, and presses "UP," repeatedly. Punch-punch-punch-punch-punch-punch-punch-punch-punch-punch.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-58477024282170477452007-10-15T08:35:00.000-04:002007-10-15T08:43:51.689-04:00

I don't talk much here about my OTHER life, that being a big-time official in an exceptionally small-time town (pop. 350).I got into this mess almost 15 years ago, when She Who Must Be Obeyed compelled me to move to her little home town, and further compelled me to do public service. (There are far too many prison metaphors here to explore sufficiently.)Anyways, I'm kind of the Town

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-60455055551639891892007-10-01T13:49:00.000-04:002007-10-01T14:21:03.420-04:00

Busy weekend at the Glorious Temple of All Knowledge, as we invited 120,000 of our closest friends to the National Mall to mill about fervently looking for authors to stalk. Gabba gabba hey!Lots of craziness up to and including the big event, as there always is. Like my old college Old Testament teacher used to say, "When in danger, when in doubt / Run in circles, scream and shout." So we all

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-67726590663567995592007-09-27T20:50:00.000-04:002007-09-28T00:20:49.278-04:00

My brother (my personal hero and the funniest and smartest guy I know) just told me two stories about my father that I'd never heard:#1. Nuns. My father was a construction worker, and sometimes worked jobs a good distance away from our little home town. Once he was working a job in Pittsburgh (35 miles away) and needed my brother (a teenager at the time) to drive up and pick him up. He would let

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-80982235512670126652007-09-19T07:51:00.000-04:002007-10-16T09:44:43.255-04:00

Yeah, I had a busy summer. No time to write. But no regrets.Anyways, She Who Must Be Obeyed and I were watching 300 thanks to the folks at Netflix. Makes me wish I had seen it in the theater. I'd read the graphic novel, but wow: the movie was pretty wild.Shembo liked it too, which kind of surprised me ... it being the very antithesis of a chick-flick. But Mrs. Leonidas, Queen Betty or whatever

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-70742768461538236722007-07-27T14:23:00.000-04:002007-07-27T14:27:03.855-04:00

My buddy Jake has the coolest shades. They're brilliant red, and they look great on him. But he's not fond of wearing them, and when he lent them to me, I saw why. I literally saw red -- brilliant, angry red."It's like being pissed off, on Mars," he observed.Yep, I'm having that kind of a month. Pissed off on Mars.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-59042168286103301552007-07-26T11:25:00.000-04:002007-07-26T14:03:13.551-04:00

Auntie Mame aside, I have stumbled upon an apt metaphor for my bipolarrific life here at the Glorious Temple of All Knowledge.I use that term only part-ironically, after all. It is an amazing place, and, arguably, the most important institution in the history of mankind. I am thrilled and overawed by the place every day. I love my work, which is challenging and inspiring. My office colleagues (

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-16346509832331653332007-07-17T18:50:00.000-04:002007-07-17T19:10:09.033-04:00

A swell pal of mine is an assistant principal in a local suburban school. But this summer, he gets to be warden of his area's summer school, which we'll call "Springfield High." He sent me the following one-morning report, edited to protect the "innocent":Sooo.... here are my discipline issues today, so far:K. told her English teacher to "Go f**k yourself, you crazy witch!!" The crazy witch (and

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-4335584906286933212007-06-25T14:33:00.000-04:002007-06-25T14:56:03.902-04:00

When I was but a lad growing up in the rust belt, the local daily newsrag featured a motley crew of ragtag comics features, mostly cheap unknown strips (and, of course, Blondie). Among the former was "Gil Thorp," the continuing drama of a high school football coach and the troubled teens in his charge.Back in the late 60s and 70s, Gil was the epitome of clean-cut, square-jawed establishment. His

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-75996795882596354992007-06-25T08:17:00.000-04:002007-06-25T08:42:59.472-04:00

This week has been the occasion of a massive (20,000) influx of librarians to Our Fair City for a big old librarian conference. It's also been the occasion of my job-required interaction with said teeming masses of Birkenstock-shod, issues-passionated yet socially-awkward conferees.While I mustn't paint them all with the broad brush (many of these good folk do NOT fit this stereotype), there IS a

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-20496853400595360622007-06-15T08:04:00.000-04:002007-06-15T08:14:45.363-04:00

From Harper's Index:Percentage of W.Va. public schools that will use the video game "Dance Dance Revolution" in phys-ed classes next year: 100Got to admit, it beats the heck out of dodgeball. Get them little hillbillies off the Ding Dongs and the oxycontin, and up an movin'!!

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-17093244561161201642007-06-14T07:52:00.000-04:002007-06-14T08:57:50.206-04:00

(collect 'em all!)So today I tried a little social experiment here, at the Glorious Temple of All Knowledge. As I came in to work, and all through the morning, I've cheerily greeted each and every coworker with a happy grin and a hearty "Good Morning!"Got a lot of strange looks. Got some equally cheery responses. I think those two categories pretty much sum up the "normal" scale of social

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-13732311170056782982007-06-12T16:58:00.000-04:002007-06-12T17:06:08.430-04:00

So after a particularly difficult morning at the Glorious Temple of All Knowledge, I walked downa street to the local liquor store to grab a samwich for lunch. (They are not only a liquor store, but the makers of the meanest, fastest samwiches around.)Even at the home of fast samwiches, one is compelled to cool one's heels while the skilled technicians massage the luncheon meats and buns into

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-15885668823946991162007-06-12T07:51:00.000-04:002007-06-12T12:54:13.752-04:00

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new winner in the "Most Irritating Laugh Ever" contest. (Keep in mind, actors, comedians and professionals are NOT eligible.)Coming in to work today, I heard it. It was a high-pitched (WAY higher than her normal speaking voice) rusty-hinge kind of laugh. Worse yet, she attached an affected "t" to the first in the series of giggles, and added "h" to the rest, making

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-2800642769835249312007-05-31T19:52:00.000-04:002007-05-31T20:00:10.485-04:00

"Get these mutts away from me ... you know, I don't find this stuff amusing anymore."I think you have to be of a certain age to finally and clearly appreciate what the guy is saying in "You Can Call Me Al."I mean, hasn't YOUR role model ducked back down the alley with some roly-poly little bat-faced girl?

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-1260673148273624202007-05-14T07:50:00.000-04:002007-05-14T07:54:35.578-04:00

Yep, it's time. All them trees and grasses are shooting their stuff in the perennial "circle-of-life" pollenalia. A little late this year, but still pretty darned potent.The effect of which, is, that I'm stupid, slow and tired. I mean, more so than usual.Hard to blog when brain no work good.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-76843709276771040052007-04-27T09:35:00.000-04:002007-04-27T10:01:52.111-04:00

Okay, I work in a government agency. And by our very existence there becomes a certain level of stuffiness. But I never quite realized how classist the environment can be sometimes. Case in point:There's no real dress code here. In my office, where we deal with outsiders a good bit, we tend to tidy up. Most days see me in a shirt and tie, at the least. But as I said, no real dress code. (With the

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-44212308402330196102007-04-19T08:19:00.000-04:002007-04-19T09:30:41.476-04:00

My beloved boss took the last two days off this week, a well-deserved rest. Oddly enough, five additional staffers bugged out as well, leaving me and three other stalwarts to cope. Usually, when the chief is gone, we split up any of his required meetings, and cover in that way. But an Edict From Upon High demanded that we have an "acting head" of the office while he was away.When I brought this

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-39653766506976172692007-04-16T09:55:00.000-04:002007-04-16T10:17:45.308-04:00

With sincerest apologies to my compatriot authors who got me a-bloggin' in the first place, I have finally found one of these new-tech-weenie exhibitionist diaries that truly rocks my world:The Comics Curmedgeon is a delicious snark-fest whereby the author, one Joshua Fruhlinger, reads all those comics still being published in newspapers (my very soft spot) and offers them occasional love, but

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-53292961741703805552007-03-23T08:54:00.000-04:002007-03-23T09:20:25.785-04:00

One of my buddies talks about memory, and how this magazine article quote brought her up short: "Try to recall the most intense moments of your life (car accidents, fistfights, over-the-top sexual encounters, etc.). In most cases, you will remember the details from those events more vividly than less meaningful, more conventional episodes from everyday existence."She says she does NOT remember

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-10901799705692259902007-03-22T09:05:00.000-04:002007-03-22T10:08:30.848-04:00

I can't figure it out, I'm just restless. Maybe it's the sudden unexpected onset of spring, and all those goddamn chirping birds. ("SHUT THE F@#& UP!!!")Maybe it's the fact that there are so many tiny detail-ridden tasks swirling about my head in all my disparate lives (professional, volunteer, personal) that they're like a swarm of gnats on a swampy summer night. Gnats that bite. And leave

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-37585274244026214202007-03-12T00:26:00.000-04:002007-03-12T00:33:15.826-04:00

For those of you who worry about such things, Rufus the city-cat (who appears to have suffered a stroke a month back) appears to be somewhat okay these days. He has some balance problems, but he walks fine, climbs up where he shouldn't, and his personality is 100% intact. And he's eating well, always a sign of health in Rootytootdom.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-51022646402561722832007-03-08T08:32:00.000-05:002007-03-08T08:49:52.370-05:00

So lately, for some reason, my senses are becoming more enhanced. I can't figure this out.My sense of hearing seems to be more acute: I can hear conversations all over my office, all through the Metro car (unless I'm plugged into my iPod), even little things from a long distance.Smell has become much more vivid. I can smell a colleague's cocoa butter-based skin product (ugh) from a mile or so

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-38122586607665822682007-02-16T07:56:00.000-05:002007-02-16T08:46:52.518-05:00

Try as we might, we cannot ignore it. She was so much a part of all our lives.Sure, you may think of her as a simple no-talent celebrity train wreck now writ larger in tragic martrydom. But Anna Nicole is so very much more than that.She was, is and will be, quite simply, a living touchstone for nearly every facet of American popular culture of the past 15 years. Let's review, shall we?Dirt-poor

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-55404372793622748972007-02-13T08:03:00.000-05:002007-02-13T08:37:06.771-05:00

After being off work a week with some nasal realignment, we came back to the world of full engagement with a bang. Sunday night, we walk into the city-pad and our beloved city-cat appears to have had a stroke: dizziness, can't walk a few feet without falling over, etc. Off to the Vet Emergency Room! *Monday night, my sweet baboo, Shembo herself, is unable to swallow. Off to the Human Emergency

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-38019970831233763072007-02-09T08:01:00.000-05:002007-03-23T16:17:52.915-04:00

I'm just finishing off Planet Simpson: How a Cartoon Masterpiece Defined a Generation. When a friend (the Maryland State Assistant Principal of the Year, no less) lent it to me, I thought it would be a simple celebration of one of our mutually favorite TV shows. Boy, was I wrong.Author Chris Turner makes a mostly* astonishing case that this iconoclastic classic was not only a brilliantly accurate

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-53489789932972570392007-01-22T11:14:00.000-05:002007-01-22T11:21:42.838-05:00

A "Rooty-Toot-Shout" goes out to our latest victim, Little Nemo. Nemo, perhaps the only boyhood friend who still speaks to me, is a helluva writer and quite the entertainer in his chosen field of endeavor. Your kind words make this old heart grow suddenly warm, Nemes. Or that could be the Cialis.For those of you keeping score at home, this brings readership of this little government-sponsored

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-14690735488679637892007-01-22T08:58:00.000-05:002007-01-22T11:22:23.824-05:00

First DC-area Snow Emergency of the year, consisting of an inch of snow, some freezing rain, solidifying slush, and mass panic. Yes, you hearty souls in Gottforsaggen Buffalo and/or the windswept northern Minnegetmeouttahere prairie, go ahead, laugh heartily at the plight of this mostly Southern city.And I would too, if I didn't have to drive around all of these chuckleheads who, in their Turbo

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-12711989170634275492007-01-19T07:52:00.000-05:002007-01-19T08:35:19.271-05:00

A colleague and dear friend of mine, during a lunch (and smack-dab in the middle of a lot of other conversation topics) tells me she's divorcing. Seems that the husband has taken up with a trailer trollop, and announced his aspiration to take said Trollop and move to Vegas, where this lout will fulfill his "lifelong dream of being a professional poker player."Now, my friend is being pretty cool

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-13773294901232559092007-01-18T08:04:00.000-05:002007-01-18T10:59:11.228-05:00

My stop on Metro is about four or five stops after the heavy crowds start to get off. So by the time I actually noticed him, the train was nearly empty. I was seated, lost in iPod tune revelry, but my Spidey-sense picked up on him at my periphery.(Of course, even the dimmest of bulbs would have noticed a scary, tall, gawky man in a black topcoat with a white fluffley collar standing motionless

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-3927393268911195962007-01-10T14:26:00.000-05:002007-01-10T14:31:19.211-05:00

My boss just made a joke wherein the punchline involved a tesseract.A tesseract, for pete's sake!I'm just as impressed as hell. I mean, how lucky am I?

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-608474991736930352007-01-10T08:12:00.000-05:002007-01-10T08:21:42.794-05:00

Oh my God. Omigod omigod omigod.I used to think of myself as immune from technological whizbang after all these years. HDTV? Yawn. Blackberry? Big whoop. Global positioning and satellite radio? Pish-tush.But then, just when I was satisfied with my connectivity, that bastard Jobs comes along again, and knocks me cold.I want it, I want it, I want it. It is not logical, but it is so.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-27007370335194728442007-01-08T08:32:00.000-05:002007-01-08T09:00:17.260-05:00

But DAMN, it was an ordeal convincing myself to serve America today and come to work.I don't usually hate Mondays, and you will never see a Garfield cartoon herein. But today was just a five-alarm, don't-wanna, hate-encrusted bad-mamma-jamma.So how do I start the day, once I drag my gray eminence into my large, marble edifice and shuffle into my colorless, claustrophobic cubicle? Writin' blogs,

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-31647185852477729662007-01-05T08:17:00.000-05:002007-01-10T14:58:13.189-05:00

Yeah, I know. I've been uncharacteristically quiet. It's damn hard to write every day, despite how my idols in blogging manage to yak it up a least coupla times a week.I guess my brain's been somewhere else. Happens to the biggest of brains, I suppose. And even pint-sized noodles like myself.On a happy note, besides ridiculous foodstuff products from Nootius Smaximus, the Best Christmas Present

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-1164117004349874432006-11-21T08:45:00.000-05:002006-11-21T08:50:04.360-05:00

Admittedly, Dilbert has lost some of its shine over the past few years. But this one was spit-take worthy.

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-1161385559304390442006-10-20T18:39:00.000-04:002006-10-20T19:05:59.316-04:00

Okay, it's been a while. I owe you more. But this is just short and sweet.Was shuffling through my Ipod today, and there it came. Big as life. The Greatest Rock and Roll Song of All Time:"Born to Run" by Bruce SpringsteenWow. It was so good, even better than I remembered it, that I went back and listened to it about 15 times. Damn. Whew.It had everything. Love, rebellion, cars, teenage angst,

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-1159818154409452302006-10-02T15:30:00.000-04:002007-11-29T08:48:35.310-05:00

Okay, it happened again today. So I can’t be imagining it.At least once a week, and only on days when I’m in a rush to get to work (like today, the first day of a new boss), as I hurry to get off my subway car, up the escalator, and off work, it happens.Little Old Lady Lockdown.They travel in pairs. They pretend to have poor vision, bunions and arthritis. But when they see a hulk-in-a-hurry like

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-1159300596053162432006-09-26T15:28:00.000-04:002006-09-26T15:56:36.070-04:00

Mood: Aaauughhh!Today, just today, just before 3 p.m. TODAY, and I've received more than 225 non-Spammic emails.I'm knockin' em off, one by one, like Barry Bonds at batting practice. But to extend the metaphor, there are six pitchers, and two of them are aimin' at my head! Bastards!Despite the popularity of my email address, this is an exceptionally crazy week anyway. A big event, the end of the

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591539.post-1158157620958091602006-09-13T09:49:00.001-04:002009-05-14T13:55:19.082-04:00

I work in a large organization, the biggest library on earth, filled with amazing things and brilliant people. But with such excesses, there are, of course, imbalances. That is to say, lots of people who probably couldn't get work in a Fortune 50 ... or 500 ... or 50,000 company because of, let's say, certain personality issues.(But these same issues make them perfectly suited to cataloging

Rooty Toot Toothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10979456147072623182noreply@blogger.com3