MADMANMIKE
Skilled Investigator
Hey all, haven't been around for a few months (search my posts to get to know me, in particular Steiger's Activating Incidents). I've been through the medical wringer and am now settling into medication for Migraines.
I have listened to every episode and often have comments I'd like to make here on the forums, but unfortunately when you work 80 hours a week there's not alot of opportunity to peruse forums.
I've been published for my art twice now, and even wrote a short story that got published; Writing is my life's goal, but as Gene and Dave know, it's not exactly going to put a person on easy street right out of the gate. And so I sell frozen food door to door for a pitance.
Now my latest experience. I loathe the words Psychic and Medium, as they're both obviously loaded. I do have Asperger's Syndrome ( a form of autism) and that leaves me with about 20% more sensitivity in every sense than the average person. Still I hesitate to use the word Sensitive as well, since it too is loaded.
Regardless, this is what happened; my wife works for a local oil company training new employees; the company owns dozens of gas stations and several Lube plants, and each year they have a company Christmas party with at least 300 people in attendance. I of course look forward to this every year (<------ SARCASM); I don't drink and generally don't enjoy the company of other people, so it's naturally the highlight of my winter.
The party was last Saturday night, and this year was the company's 40th anniversary. The founder died several years ago and his wife has been running it ever since. Each year there is a video that highlights the company events from the proceeding year, but this year it was a retrospective of the entire 40 years. I never met the founder, and he didn't really have much of an impact on my life personally. And to be honest it's only in the last year that I've come around to respecting his wife as she's from money and has had a bit of difficulty relating to and thus taking care of the employees.
Anyway, they also own a restaurant that makes terrible country style food it caters the party each year, so I usually load up on the hours-doovers; this year was no exception and when the video started I had a small plate of cheese cubes and crackers.
As it started I suddenly felt extremely emotional and almost broke down in tears. I couldn't get the founder out of my head and had the words "Good job Snookems" repeating in my head over and over. Finally I pulled a pen out and wrote them down on a piece of paper, and tried to watch the film.
It was like the guy was standing behind me whispering in my ear, and I felt compelled to go say those words to his wife, but of course I didn't as I don't want my wife's employer to know how crazy I am. As I tried to calm down I reached for a cracker and a piece of cheese and when I bit into them the cheese was as dry as a bone and the cracker was soft like it had been out for a week.
I'd probably eaten two dozen little cheese cubes and crackers already in the forty or so minutes before this, and all of them were fresh and fine. It struck me as odd but then that seems to be par for the course in my life.
It's almost as though I'm the living embodiment of Murphy's Law; I live in that 2% unlikelihood. Here's a good example; last Thursday night I was hit by a deer. Yes, you read right, I was hit by it, not the other way around. I should have know something bad was going to happen as I'd been in an inordinately happy mood most of the day (it's only when you let your guard down that bad things happen). It was about a quarter to midnight when I saw the doe standing beside the road and I popped the car in neutral and began to break. Unfortunately when a deer get's spooked it bolts in whatever direction it happens to be facing.
She ran full tilt into my front left fender, breaking off the turn-signal assembly and denting it pretty bad. I turned around and parked on the side of the road, my bright lights trained on the deer, who was lying in the middle of the road. I got out to examine it and saw that it's front right foot was missing, with broken bone sticking out about half it's original length below the knee. Her head bobbed up and leveled off as she panted in a daze.
What to do? I catch bee's and wasps that have found their way into my house and put them outside, I'm no killer. Likewise, my only options to put this creature out of it's misery were to either pummel it's brain with a tire-iron or try to break it's neck, which clearly would be no easy task as it's neck was at least two feet long; I saw myself twisting it's head all the way around and then gasping in horror as it leapt to it's remaining three hooves and smacked me around a bit before loping off into the woods to bleed out slowly, suffering for my incompetence.
Fortunately the first person who stopped to help happened to have a meat cleaver in his truck (he said he had a hatchet, but I'm sorry a handle with a blade that's 10 inches long and two inches wide is a meat cleaver, not a hatchet). Of course this would not be an ideal encounter were it not for the deer, so I thank my lucky stars.
The man deftly hacked at the deers neck on both sides and it bled out faster, putting it out of it's misery. When the insurance agent confirmed that I wouldn't need a police report I nodded to the man and he and his friend (who looked like he'd come from the casting call for a remake of Deliverance) hefted the deer into the bed of their truck and I went on.
I guess the moral is, there's no such thing as good luck or bad luck; there's only luck or no luck. I'm very lucky. If you don't have luck, life is like riding the kiddie roller coaster, with a little bit of up and a little bit of down, but mostly boring. If you do have luck, when it goes up it's in orbit, and when it goes down, you're upside down in a car that only has that old-style bar across your lap that doesn't come all the way down, and as much as you expect and even sometimes wish you'd fall out, you don't; you just can't get off the damned ride.
-Mike <8]
I have listened to every episode and often have comments I'd like to make here on the forums, but unfortunately when you work 80 hours a week there's not alot of opportunity to peruse forums.
I've been published for my art twice now, and even wrote a short story that got published; Writing is my life's goal, but as Gene and Dave know, it's not exactly going to put a person on easy street right out of the gate. And so I sell frozen food door to door for a pitance.
Now my latest experience. I loathe the words Psychic and Medium, as they're both obviously loaded. I do have Asperger's Syndrome ( a form of autism) and that leaves me with about 20% more sensitivity in every sense than the average person. Still I hesitate to use the word Sensitive as well, since it too is loaded.
Regardless, this is what happened; my wife works for a local oil company training new employees; the company owns dozens of gas stations and several Lube plants, and each year they have a company Christmas party with at least 300 people in attendance. I of course look forward to this every year (<------ SARCASM); I don't drink and generally don't enjoy the company of other people, so it's naturally the highlight of my winter.
The party was last Saturday night, and this year was the company's 40th anniversary. The founder died several years ago and his wife has been running it ever since. Each year there is a video that highlights the company events from the proceeding year, but this year it was a retrospective of the entire 40 years. I never met the founder, and he didn't really have much of an impact on my life personally. And to be honest it's only in the last year that I've come around to respecting his wife as she's from money and has had a bit of difficulty relating to and thus taking care of the employees.
Anyway, they also own a restaurant that makes terrible country style food it caters the party each year, so I usually load up on the hours-doovers; this year was no exception and when the video started I had a small plate of cheese cubes and crackers.
As it started I suddenly felt extremely emotional and almost broke down in tears. I couldn't get the founder out of my head and had the words "Good job Snookems" repeating in my head over and over. Finally I pulled a pen out and wrote them down on a piece of paper, and tried to watch the film.
It was like the guy was standing behind me whispering in my ear, and I felt compelled to go say those words to his wife, but of course I didn't as I don't want my wife's employer to know how crazy I am. As I tried to calm down I reached for a cracker and a piece of cheese and when I bit into them the cheese was as dry as a bone and the cracker was soft like it had been out for a week.
I'd probably eaten two dozen little cheese cubes and crackers already in the forty or so minutes before this, and all of them were fresh and fine. It struck me as odd but then that seems to be par for the course in my life.
It's almost as though I'm the living embodiment of Murphy's Law; I live in that 2% unlikelihood. Here's a good example; last Thursday night I was hit by a deer. Yes, you read right, I was hit by it, not the other way around. I should have know something bad was going to happen as I'd been in an inordinately happy mood most of the day (it's only when you let your guard down that bad things happen). It was about a quarter to midnight when I saw the doe standing beside the road and I popped the car in neutral and began to break. Unfortunately when a deer get's spooked it bolts in whatever direction it happens to be facing.
She ran full tilt into my front left fender, breaking off the turn-signal assembly and denting it pretty bad. I turned around and parked on the side of the road, my bright lights trained on the deer, who was lying in the middle of the road. I got out to examine it and saw that it's front right foot was missing, with broken bone sticking out about half it's original length below the knee. Her head bobbed up and leveled off as she panted in a daze.
What to do? I catch bee's and wasps that have found their way into my house and put them outside, I'm no killer. Likewise, my only options to put this creature out of it's misery were to either pummel it's brain with a tire-iron or try to break it's neck, which clearly would be no easy task as it's neck was at least two feet long; I saw myself twisting it's head all the way around and then gasping in horror as it leapt to it's remaining three hooves and smacked me around a bit before loping off into the woods to bleed out slowly, suffering for my incompetence.
Fortunately the first person who stopped to help happened to have a meat cleaver in his truck (he said he had a hatchet, but I'm sorry a handle with a blade that's 10 inches long and two inches wide is a meat cleaver, not a hatchet). Of course this would not be an ideal encounter were it not for the deer, so I thank my lucky stars.
The man deftly hacked at the deers neck on both sides and it bled out faster, putting it out of it's misery. When the insurance agent confirmed that I wouldn't need a police report I nodded to the man and he and his friend (who looked like he'd come from the casting call for a remake of Deliverance) hefted the deer into the bed of their truck and I went on.
I guess the moral is, there's no such thing as good luck or bad luck; there's only luck or no luck. I'm very lucky. If you don't have luck, life is like riding the kiddie roller coaster, with a little bit of up and a little bit of down, but mostly boring. If you do have luck, when it goes up it's in orbit, and when it goes down, you're upside down in a car that only has that old-style bar across your lap that doesn't come all the way down, and as much as you expect and even sometimes wish you'd fall out, you don't; you just can't get off the damned ride.
-Mike <8]
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