Thursday, August 30, 2007

Addendum 2

So my asshat of a boss is fucking killing me. He knew this was my last day. He knew I usually leave early since I get here about the same time that the doors open. He knew I needed my check today so that I can actually pay my mortgage. He knew that it matters a lot today because I have to get across the city and on a freaking bus to pick up my car by 5:45 tonight, including changing metro lines. He told me he would be here at 2:30. He just called and told me he is running late. At 3:50. No shit, you fucking piece of crap! You get here, you get here now, and you get me my fucking check, you squirmy ass-fuck! You have to pay your employees on time and are not allowed to fucked up their schedule because you are a dopey fuck! I can't leave the damn building until you get here because I don't have a badge to get out anymore! I am literally trapped in this god-awful building because you can't bother to come to work until 4 in the after-fucking-noon! FUCK!

And I hate the fucking Yankees. All we needed from this weekend was 1 win. 1 win and the AL east race is over. FUCK! I hate JD Drew. I hate him. I've tried to defend him, I've tried to be optimistic, I've tried to think he would balance it all out, I've tried to hope he might actually turn it around, but he sucks. He sucks, his mother sucks, and anyone that looks like him sucks. When was his last RBI in a close game? June? May? JD Drew is the captain of our All-Suck offense. Christ, where is this asshat with my check?


Well, just to re-emphasize the last post, the cock-sucking furry little snot just called me up and informed me that the additional fixes that he was telling me about are actually $110 higher than before, because he "forgot" that the prices he looked up where for "each" instead of the pair together. So, after about a 15 minute yelling match where I said I didn't agree to the higher price for the work and I would like it stopped, he told me it wasn't an option because the work had already been done, he "knocked off" $30 off of the labor. So that was an $80 phone call.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that Verizon just upped our prices for cable and internet despite the fixed term fixed price promotion from when we signed up. I'm excited for the myriad of phone calls to fix that one. If I didn't need internet at home, I'd broom this crap right now. Still better than Comcast, though.

It looks like I'm giving up shaving, because razor cartridges are about the only thing left in my budget that can be bid down. Sigh. It will be fun walking home from school to avoid the metro fares.

Frustrated as Hell

While the title of the post very easily could describe the experience as a Red Sox fan the last two days, watching a ball bounce 14 times before dribbling out of the infield to get the bases juiced after a freshly-squeezed umpire walk allows Damon to drive in a couple runs, this is not about baseball. For that, go here. This post is, by and large, a rant.

Yes, a rant. I have a rant. I have a rant, and it is in my pant(s). This one has to deal with money. To be specific, it has to do with my money. I hold myself of the opinion that I am good with money. I'm not the best, but at least I am organized about it. I pay all my bills as they come in. I put money away in savings. I invest. While I may fork out too much in tips and rounds of drinks for my friends, it all comes out of my amorphous "discretionary" account, which essentially forces me to ration out fun over a month instead of money. I have no debt, as I have effectively paid off my student loans (with a few monthly CDs maturing around the payment dates covering the remaining payments). I would like to think that I am at least in the upper quartile when it comes to dealing with money.

So what the fuck?!? How on Earth is it freaking possible that every couple weeks I keep getting whacked with unexpected expenses, each being a couple thousand a piece? Seriously, what the hell?

First, there's the broken ankle. A craptastic turn of events that bled through most of my emergency savings because the goddamn metro can't keep its escalators working, but can operate their claims department well enough to stonewall me from medical expenses. Fantastic. With the student health insurance having all the convenience of an HMO with all the payment savings of an indemnity plan, and a monthly stipend from school being the financial equivalent of lunch of a packet of saltines and a playing card smeared with peanut, that was pretty rocky for a while. I ended up bailing early on physical therapy and a pain prescription refill to stay bouyant. Oh, and my health insurance company recouped cost from the metro, without a dime headed back to me for my copays, including the $1500 out of pocket for the CT scans.

Second, my dingleberry-scented douchebag of a boss from last summer finally sends me my tax info and shows me that the son of a bitch never paid my payroll taxes, despite assuring me TWICE last summer that he was doing so. Great. Now I can either sue him in small claims for misrepresentation and lose because I don't have anything explicitly in writing besides a vague email (stupid of me), or I can actually work for him again this summer while he steals money from the government that is meant to pay my payroll taxes but instead lards his "cut" of my working hours. And hopefully I can get my check on my last day (today) instead of last year when it took 2 trips to the place and a call to his supervisor to finally bleed my check out of him after an 8-week battle. "Yeah, I mailed it to the wrong address, then was surprised when it came back to me as undeliverable, and I didn't bother calling you or checking the email you sent me to ensure I actually wrote the wrong address on the envelope." I really hope I can find alternative funding next summer so that I don't end up with a surprise 2 grand tax bill out of nowhere again. And I hope this sumbitches privates rot off.

Third, a new place. I didn't sign on for this crap. Carpet, twice as expensive as advertized. HVACs break just before we move in. New furniture because the old stuff suddenly doesn't look right. New bed, despite the agreement that we could afford it (So we finance it, YAY!). While I should have seen this coming, I didn't. Especially the HVACs. Who knew that replacing ones from 1958 would be nearly 3 times as costly as ones for newer buildings? $6500, seriously? Oh, right, and we have a list of 10 items of furniture that the Resident Female and I decided we needed for the place that we are holding off on for a while.

Fourth, car. I think I'll just take my car in for the 120,000 mile tune-up that the manufacturer recommends. Yeah, a tune-up, that sounds cheap, right? Like $100, maybe $200? $700! $700! You fuckers, how is that fair?!? Oh, and of course, you find 70 or 80 things wrong that jack that bill up to $1800. And you only tell me after I've already paid the $700, so that money is already "baked in the cake", as it were. Why is it that every single person I have ever met that deals with cars is a full-of-shit charlatan, scum-ridden, syphillis-scarred trouser-stain that lacks even the remotest conceptual understanding of honesty and human decency? Seriously, when has a car company, car salesman, car repairman, mechanic, or car-wash ever been even partially honest? There has got to be a way to slowly eviscerate and throttle all of these rectum-sucking low-lives so that we never have to deal with them again. And fuck you if you were about to say, "Well, you could always buy a Saturn".

Speaking of people that ought to die screaming in agony as they plead in vain for their mommies: anyone to do with the wedding industry. Holy fuck. It is as if the word "wedding" in the description of a product suddenly implies a $200 surcharge. Is the word "wedding" that expensive to print on paper? Where do these damn people get off by even suggesting these prices? Why do rational and sane people agree to pay for this crap? (note: because their future wives tell them to). I've seen this stuff in the stores and online with certain prices attached. Yet they end up in the wedding registry, or a deposit goes down, or a check gets issued, and suddenly there is an automatic $200 fee for wedding stuff. "Hey, let's get those disposable cameras to put on the tables at the wedding." "Great idea, these with the cardboard cover over the camera that has an elaborately printed color scheme are $10 a piece, and these with the same exact kind of cardboard but with wedding graphics are $110 a piece." That seems fair. This country has lost its mind when it comes to wedding prices, has a massive problem with consumer debt, and extremely high divorce rates. Somebody should write that down, it might be important later.

So, why do I bitch and rant about all these things that nobody probably wants to hear about? I wanted to point out that your humble narrator has had more money in "one-time" expenses (not even counting planned things like an engagement ring) pop up in the last year than he has been paid in his living stipend in his 2 years of graduate school. Seriously, two years income is less than one year's "Hello!" expenses. Another $1800 bill today for a fucking car, and a "surprise! I have credit card debt despite you bailing me out a few months ago" revelation from the Resident Female, and I'm a little less than chipper when it comes to finances at the moment Oh, and I need to go get new loafers and a new belt, because apparently my sense of fashion is horrendous and my wardrobe is outdated. Sweet. So today is another $2000 day for me.

SO, anyone know where I can sell a black-market kidney?

Monday, August 27, 2007

Throw-away joke for a Monday morning

What do you call a well-dressed economist?

Dashingly dismal.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007


Well, the bachelor party has come and gone, my liver has migrated south for the winter, and I managed to survive the trials and trivails of a weekend amongst friends. A good time was had by all, though at one point a "bitch-be-cool" was doled out in the Hotel hallway as a drunken blonde couldn't stop grabbing me. He had it coming.

As to me, it looks like I am settling back into the normal routine of boring life, praying for the end of the summer to get away from this god-forsaken project that is nearing completion and once again immersing myself into the satisfying and completely important world of teaching Freshman my "stuff" theory of economics. While the 50% cut in pay will certainly sting, the 400% increase in unstructured time will also be nice (for about a month).

Then, the day of bethrothal will arrive and all the planning and spending will theoretically end. Sweet.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Food for Thought

Nebulous and pleonastic obfuscation preserves the illusion of profundity amidst the mental plebians. Thoughts?

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

The Continuing Adventures of A. Sean Feddish

Our favorite Itinerant Jew, A. Sean Feddish, was back stateside recently, and the Resident Female and I were able to pry him away from family and friends long enough to spend a weekend in the most powerful swamp in the world (note: DC). While the stated mission of our occasional meetings generally involves collecting outrageous stories for the sake of having them to tell, this time we decided that relaxation would be the appropriate salve for all of our mental healths. As such, after a reunion in the bathroom at Union Station (seriously) and a few choice DC happy hours, we set about our business of doing slightly more than nothing.

While those faithful readers familiar with our beloved Feddish tales may have a level of disappointment at our inability to generate freakish and odd anecdotes, please understand that the chances of replicating the last trip to the greater Washington area would be wholly futile. I mean, there is no possibility of ever topping The Life and Times of ChristGirl, sleeping in a bathtub, and switching languages on tourists within the same 24 hour period. Remember, I am getting married.

With that in mind, there is also a soon-to-be-coming-out competition in the world of weblogs, as AOL will soon be launching a Japan-themed weblog written by our very own A. Sean Feddish. I know, I know, who would have thought that there would actually end up being 2 weblogs on the internet. I'm as shocked as you. However, look for a link forthcoming, where he will regail you with stories of Used-Panty-Vending-Machines in the Tokyo subway, salt-less treks through the Darien Gap, and Turks & Caicos on $1.50 a day.

Monday, August 13, 2007

Potentially offensive garbage

We all know about the rappers/actors Ice Cube and Ice Tea. Here are a few of their lesser known compatriots:

The rapping triplets: Ice Trey

The rapping Jew: Ice Berg

The rapping ho: Ice Box

Okay, not buying it? Here's a picture:

Friday, August 10, 2007

Called it!

In an effort to fully document every time that I have been correct in some argument, I present this story as evidence. A few years ago, during the Sammy Sosa corked bat fiasco, I engaged in a lengthy and surprising angry discussion with a lets-keep-him-nameless friend about the actual merits of a corked bat (which is to say there are very few). I then proceeded to suggest that Bonds' (and others') armor actually are more of a cheat than a corked bat, citing both the "skater"/inside pitch argument and the plane of the elbow/pop-fly argument that this guy does. Granted, this is more in depth and a little bit more scientufuc than my arguments, but pretty neat all the same. Regardless, thank you Mr. Pierce for my high-school physics class senior year that spent an entire month on the physics of baseball.

Just a quick rehash of the corked bat thing: the decrease in weight (and thus the ability to transfer kinetic energy from bat to ball) almost perfectly negates the added angular moment gained by a faster swing. To whit, the increased bat speed does not improve the power because the bat is less dense and lighter. So a corked bat doesn't really help the hitter's power numbers. However, since it swings through the zone faster, it might create better contact numbers for the hitter (assuming he can maintain his natural timing).

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Things to do...

1) I'm taking a rare relaxing off day today, as my new HVAC units are being installed as I type this. With the never ending string of full weekends (4 in a row, and another 4 coming), it is extremely nice to just have a few minutes to kick back, relax, and actually sink low into the couch. It's been a while. So, until my next day of minimal effort (other than cleaning) on Labor Day weekend, I'm writing to you.

2) As a side note, those of you who think it was clever of me to schedule the installation on a weekday with a Sox day game, well, you know me too well.

3) This summer, I've spent most of my time at work listening to audio books on my iPod, and I just listened to the entire Harry Potter series (it only took about 9 weeks of constant listening). I've got to say, while I'm not about to run out and by a cape and start reffering to people as muggles (other than in this sentence), I was pretty pleased with the whole thing. I was afraid that, like the Stephen King Dark Tower series, the 7 book lead-up would end with an unbelievably unsatisfying ending. However, I thought the 7th book was actually very good. Slightly repetitive, ended a little too cutely, but overall I was very satisfied.

4) Patriots camp started on the same day I got the new Football Prospectus. Still a fantasticly interesting read, year in and year out. If you like football, it really is the best thing to get me in the mood for the season. If you want to buy a copy, find the link to the right.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007


Gagne for detritus? Very nice. I'll take it. The Sox just added a 3rd impact arm for what equates to 1 of 3 4th outfielder options, a #5 starter with #4 upside (though he was obviously pitching admirably, as new left-handers are want to do), and a guy that was 4 years+ away from the majors. In exchange, the Sox have a strong bullpen, one not disimilar from Foulke, Timlin, Embree of '04 (when those 3 names were good). Papelbon, Gagne, Okajima. Hopefully, Schilling comes back with a vengence such that our playoff opponants only see:

Beckett, Schilling, Matsuzaka, Lester
Papelbon, Gagne, Okajima, Delcarmen

Followed by a string of zeroes.