A friend of mine e-mailed me this link earlier…

     Think you’re pretty good at smackin’ a penguin?

     Prove it!

     As a man who’s had years of practice smacking the penguin, I found a personal best score of 294 after 10 attempts.  Apparently, you get better the more you play…

     (Ok, seriously, it’s perfectly safe for work … Check it out and post your score!)

     And while we’re at it … if you find something blogworthy that you think we should post about, give us a yell.

Tip: Mushy at .. well .. his blogs.

     I don’t teach, not because I have these kinds of problems…

     …but because the weight of my sarcasm may crush some heads.

Life is short…

So what am I supposed to do about it?

I think the answer can simply be summed up as: live happy, live right, and it will be easy to live your conscience.  Don’t let yourself get stressed out, it’s not worth the effort or the time it takes to do it. 

Praise your sons and daughters, friends and family, co-workers and bosses, when they do something well. If they go against the grain and they do poorly,  don’t be afraid to point out where they made a mistake. In the same token, don’t chastise them while you do it.  They are people too…

I know this is a little hippy for me but life is too short to stay mad and unhappy.  Joke them if they can’t take a…

I make my rounds down  at Blogger’s Landing on a daily basis. 

Here you’ll find all kinds of people.  You find folks who rant and rave, folks who have public service announcements, folks reflecting on life… you name it you’ll find it.  

I recently saw something that has been bugging the piss out of me.  I’m not going to make a daily stop at a particular page anymore because it is a major buzz kill to my joy and happiness factor.  And God knows, I don’t need anybody kicking me out of joy and happiness.  I won’t name any names, that wouldn’t be right.

This is just a public service announcement so that folks will realize that a blog that is used as a platform for a non-stop personal vendetta is extremely boring.

I’m not the victim of the below bunch of bullshit.  I’m not even sure I know who the victim of this blogger is, but I know for a long, long time this has been going on and frankly I’m bored as a monkey with no fucking trees to swing from with it all.  I don’t think I’ll be passing by her blog for tea and crumpets again because her style of writing makes me sad.

It’s a mean nasty person who is constantly stirring up crap with an people by constantly picking old wounds to keep them open.

I totally understand the occassional happening with an ex and it being something interesting or even just something a sister needs to vent about. Or a past ghost comes up and bites a brother in the ass…. makes for interesting reading and is perfectly acceptable. 

But, when someone makes it part of their daily routine to check up on and often write crap about someone, it’s sad.  These kind of people need to get a life.  A real life, not fantasy world. 

Whether whatever happened was right or wrong on either side, enough is enough.  The slamming of another person and constant degradation is boring to say the least.  I don’t think the person I’m referring to bothers to check my shit out, but if they do, I hope they are not infatuated enough with themselves not to realize this is a wake up call.  Knock it off. 

Get a fucking life, or not.  I don’t care either way. I’m a big girl and I can just stay away from your blogs.

     I’m not trying to be arrogant, but jeez Louise… I can’t stand GameStop!  As a matter of fact, I’ve found that I have a deep-seated resentment for the entire establishment.

     This afternoon’s visit even more strongly reinforced that resentment.

     I went into several different locations — in several different states — before Christmas looking for a particular gift which was “soon to be released” instead of “in stock now!” as their advertisements said, and that kinda ticked me off, anyway.
     But that’s not what this rant is about.  In fact, it’s far more pointed — and perhaps more personal — than that.

     Now, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that all GameStop employees are idiots, because that’s not true.  There are Accountants, Franchise Owners and Managers (more on them later) who might be associated with any given location and who may be, by all accounts, “normal.”  I can’t say the same of the Ad people, because Ad people are pretty much abnormal anywhere they’re employed — and they’re not the reason I dislike GameStop.  Even with the “in stock now!” garbage…

     No, the thing I hate about GameStop?

     It’s the regular employees, of which there are at least eight at any given location.

     At first, you think they’re just black-shirted customers, running around the store acting like idiots, hiding behind the displays yelling, “Bee-owp!  Bee-owp!” as they pretend to shoot at each other with invisible implements of destruction.
     “Can I help you find anything?” they’ll eventually ask.
     “No,” you reply.  “This is a pretty small store.”

     Immediately, six of them begin dodging their invisible lasers, screaming, “Bee-owp!  Bee-owp!” again.

     At some point, the seventh employee will run out from the back, ripping the latest firearm-style controller (for the latest mega-cool platform!) from out of its protective box, screaming, “Bee-owp!  Bee-owp!” at his invisibly armed compatriots.

     Upon closer inspection, you’ll notice their tell-tale GameStop employee ID’s, which, instead of being pinned to their shirt, hang from around their necks like they’re roadies guarding the back-stage of a Metallica concert.  Only, they listen to Europop Techno…
     In fact, the only thing they have in common with the “cool” guys they’re trying to emulate is the fact that they’re like … forty.
     The “younger,” eighth employee (a mere thirty-years-old) feverishly slaves away behind the cash register, his penance for being “so much younger” and “less cool” than his elder brethren.

     The Manager is always in the back, pulling his hair out.  Unfortunately, he doesn’t have the balls to control his motley crew — yeah, not the band — of prepubescent middle-agers and attempt to set things right.  Instead, he comes to help customers at the cash register because he just can’t have his employees arguing with customers about those damn ads…
     He leaves the store at 10PM, gets home at 10:15PM, and is drunk by 10:30PM.  His wife screams at him incessantly, and he just can’t handle it any more.
     You just know that at any moment, some proverbial needle will hit the floor, breaking the silence like cannon fire, and our mild-mannered Manager will suddenly become Michael Douglas in “Falling Down.”  (Perks of the job — he scarfed that movie from out of the Used DVD bin last Thursday, and watched it while getting wasted on Peach Schnapps and Mountain Dew.)

     Maybe there are normal GameStop stores in the world.  Maybe all of their counter staff aren’t overgrown, pimply-faced, forty-year-old virgins who are sadly content to live in their grandmother’s basements pretending to be part of Vader’s 501st Stormtrooper Legion, Klingon Commander Haktarr, or Yoric the Hill Giant Slayer.

     I just haven’t met them yet, because I am way too cool for GameStop…

     And don’t even get me started on Starbucks…