Nealodamus Predicts All

According to this guy I work with, I have the power to predict events including THE FUTURE. This is evidenced by my prediction of Terri's death and our vengefull God striking down of the Pope for not being able to stop a kill-crazed America from pulling the tube.

It would be a shame to only predict death and world turmoil, so I have spent the better part of three hours in the handicapped stall in the men's room predicting other events that soon will be. What follows are just a few examples of my great insight into the plight of humanity and the earth:

1. In 2005 George Bush will declare war on Tsunamis and the creatures that comprise Poseidon's, Oceanus', and the Kraken's underwater army.

2. The pain of remembering 9/11 will grow too great for America to bare. After little debate, the US removes the date from the Catholic calendar and replaces it with the less painful 9/10.5 date. Shortly thereafter, the number for 911 will be changed to 872 which will spell out the more patriotic U-S-A.

3. By 2006 every child born will be mandated to have a tattoo of Calvin peeing on something

4. There will be a morbidly gross competition between the makers of between penis enlargement medications to make a member so large that, when erect, causes the rest of the body to shrivel up to the size of a flacid penis.

5. In the year 2120 there still will not be a pill on the market to make vagina's smaller.

6. Next season, baseball players will give up using steroids and illegal enhancement drugs to bulk themselves up and get back to using old-fashioned 1980's cocaine.

7. School shootings will continue to increase in quantity, but will not receive massive press as they will be declared 'totally uncool' by tomorrow's MTV8 (ocho) generation.

8. Iraq will encounter a tremendous technology boom with the introduction of democracy. Soon thereafter they create a machine of cutting the heads off entire teams of foreign reporters and soldiers.

9. Human bodies will be cloned without heads for use in organ harvesting. The number one and two sales items will be gigantic penises and extremely tight vaginas.

10. We will all die. Black, White, Asian, Muslim, Jew, Hockey player, Canadian, Racists, and Pat Robertson will all be dead in the future. The only survivor will be the bionic baseball playing humanoid machine equipped with a giant penis and extremely small vagina that was built by Iraqi’s on 9/10.5/2200 exclusively for cutting the heads off all remaining tattooed, school shooting kids who refuse to work for the creatures of the deep.

Scary, huh? Fuck yeah it is!

Exactly how hot is hell?

After the tremendous lack of feedback on my previous post, I have decided to take time out and talk to our Lord and savior, Jesus Christ about getting a hold of his dad, God. Jesus said that God has totally been acting like a control freak and recently grounded him for holding a Back from the Dead Resurrection Rock-U-Thon 2005 in the palace of heaven while God was away conducting a seminar entitled 'Climbing your own Stairway: 9 Habits of Maximum Happiness for Omnipresent Deities.' "When God came back and saw the place he, like, totally freaked out on my shit," said Jesus who was busy serving out his sentence by putting a endless stack of metaphorical dishes into a dishwasher so big that even God couldn't fill it. "He was like, 'it's about trust, Jesus. And I don't know when my trust in you will come back.' God was like, "what do you think I had the bible written for anyway? For fun? Well I'm not laughin." The he parted the clouds, like he always does, for the 'drama,' and created an example for me by having some teenage kids drinking when their parents were away. 'When the kids were all good and intoxicated," Jesus stated, "he made them all have sex with each other and get the AIDS." Jesus continued, "then, if that weren't enough, he has one of the kids run out into traffic screaming, 'I'm a chicken, I'm a fucking chicken' until he gets clipped by a 1975 Omega going 50 in a 25." Recanting the session had brought Christ to nearly faking tears as he said, "when I told him that I'd seen enough, he said he wasn't finished and injected one of the kids with pure grade heroin." When I asked him why he would do such a thing, he looked at me and said, why I would do this to God." Christ confided, "That shit was pretty fucked up, dude." At this point Jesus began to bore us with how many free throws he could hit from mid court and how he still had the high score on the Dragon's Lair machine at the local pizza shop before the machine broke. When we eventually brought him back around to the story and his father, Jesus said, "Well, out of the chaos comes love. I'm constantly learning about all the specialness that my dad's book, the Bible (winks), has to offer and realize that one's inner self is the best teacher." Christ actually seemed to be boring himself at this point when he became impatient and asked if we could kindly "get the fuck out of my way as I sink this hole in one shot from 500 yards...BOOYA!!! Suck on that, Tiger Wuss!"

So I'm a monster...what of it?

You wanna fight about it? Seriously, I took a quick walk around the office and noticed that there are a great majority of people reading this blog and know that it is my horrible hands that have borne this thing. Well, if the atmosphere were different, I'd be a bit frightened that people knew I was a beast of a shell of a person. For now, it seems the people who are looking at this seem to get the joke and are rolling with the punches...for now. For the people I work with, I know what you are all going through. This is why I have taken three minutes of my day to roll my 20 sided die and conjure up industry analyst, Carl Tsukas, to ask him, ‘how does one survive a company merger or acquisition?’* Big news! Your company was just acquired by another, or you're merging as equals. How can you protect your staff, your programs, and your career? We asked Carl Tsukas, an expert who's helped many high-tech marketing departments deal with the politics of mergers, for his advice on what you should do -- and what you should avoid at all costs: INTERVIEW: Me: Carl, your company has been acquired by another -- and as a marketing executive, you're wondering how do I continue to do my job during the closing period? Carl: Holy shit, are you serious? We’re being acquired? By who? Me: During this time, what do you propose to tell your staff and contractors? Carl: God damnit, are you fucking kidding me? This is probably why Mr. Williamson didn’t shake my hand in the bathroom last week? Fuck! Me: With the varying levels of complexity and budget constraints, will you continue with business as usual, or should you look to make big changes? Carl: This is total bullshit! Y’know, it’s funny, there are tons of guys around here that don’t do shit and I bet they are all safe. Its guys like me who bust their asses who get let go of first. Just fuckin’ hilarious! Me: You said in your book that "Any marketing executive of the acquired company can shine in the eyes of the acquirer if they can show that they're able to keep their customer's confidence and continue to drive forward." Carl: Fuck that noise! I’m outta here. * This document is +1 with healing and immunity to orcs

Schiavo wins! 

Feeding tubes

According to the Vatican, Pope John Paul II is getting nutrition from a tube in his nose. This was in response to an incident where the frail pontiff appeared at his window in St. Peter's Square and managed only a rasp when he tried to speak. Reports from Rome say that he was heard rasping, 'what kind of God makes me live in this condition?' moments before he shat himself and regurgitated peas through his nasal passages. Which brings us back to the vegatable soup du jour, Terri Schiavo. It seems that a federal appeals court has agreed to consider reconnecting her feeding tube. This is exactly what I find wrong with this whole cluster fuck of an abortion of an molehill turned mountain issue. Not only are her parents saying they want their child, Terri, to be a lazy ass, bed sore riddled monstrosity, they also want her to be obese. News from the hospital is Terri's parents are already busy buying Burger King's new breakfast sandwich, the Enormous Omelet Sandwich, to mortar & pestle them down into a pumpable foodstuff. Terri's parents have been quoted as saying 'The sandwich has one sausage patty, two eggs, two American cheese slices and three strips of bacon. That works out to 730 calories and 47 grams of fat -- which should be more than enough to sustain our baby for a lifetime of misery and strife bound to a hospital bed. It’s what God wants. Earlier this week we talked to God who had put down his 6' skull bong for a moment to deliver this quote, 'Terri who? Didn't I kill her with that heart attack years ago. Holy crap, she's still alive? My bad.' He then looked over to one of his angel bodyguards, extended his index finger and made a cutting the throat gesture. The angel nodded and swiftly left the room. "Americans do not need an Enormous Omelet Sandwich," said Skippy McFaggerton, a professor of nutrition at Bozwell Community College, who noted the sandwich's contents were high in fat and salt and the meal lacked fruit and fiber. "That's too many calories, especially for a rotting corpse of humanity like that Terri broad. On a diet of these sandwiches, she would need to have someone wheel her around the compound 8 trillion times for her wandering eyes to burn off those calories,” Skippy added. “If you are going to feed her that crap, you should make some compensation for the weight gain. Something like cutting off her arms and legs should drop about 50-75 lbs right off the bat.” Doctors will be investigating that option as soon as they get back from their extended lunch at Hardee's where they are investigating the healing properties of the new "Monster Thickburger," which has 1,400 calories and 107 grams of fat. One doctor was quoted as saying “On a diet of these fucking things, Christ, we could keep a brain dead elephant alive for centuries!”

eBay A-holes

So, I'm in this war with Simon on eBay. What started out as a strategic battle for feedback rating supremecy has ultimately become a contest of special olympic proportions. At present, it is Simon, with his oversized mongoloidinal proportioned noggin, standing atop Mt Oglimpus with a feedback ranking of 80. I, with a lowly score of 69, have had to make some minor adjustments to my orthopedic footwear and rethink my battle plan. Recently, Simon took the fight over the boundaries of decency and fair play by placing my dignity for sale on eBay. Now, this is publicity for me, which I am quite happy to exploit, but what really burns my ass more than a three foot flame is that my parents wound up winning the auction for a little over $7. All of a sudden I am feeling like I'm in a gay porno as I am surrounded by nothing but dicks and assholes. The ultimate insult is that my parents will most likely add another distance in the ever-widening feedback gap. Son of a bitch!

The Ring Two

Sucked...Plain and simple, sucked. We were given vouchers at our fledgling company today to see a movie of our choice at a local theater. After looking over the blight on the marquis that is now passing for motion picture entertainment these days, our group settled on The Ring Two. Sweet Christ was that a bad idea! The movie fails to scare, frighten, or move anywhere in over two hours. The parts that are intended to shock and boo-you-from-your-seat just fall abysmally flat. At the end, even though I hadn't paid anything to get in, I asked for my money back. With movies like this, the bar is being set despairingly low for this type of consumer grade chum masked in the guise of entertainment. Upon driving back to work, I parked my car in the handicapped spot in front of our office as I had a legitimate argument that I had a mental defect that prevented me from leaving the movie earlier. My first inclination that something was terribly wrong with this movie was the coupon on the reverse side of the ticket which read: $25 off all helmets and bus pass fasteners at Joe's Retard Emporium. The entire duration of this movie, I had to keep checking in the lower right hand corner of the screen to prove to myself that I wasn't watching Lifetime or the Oxygen network. The dialogue was forced and contrived to the point of insult and I half expected a commercial break for tampons or some menopause pill. With all of the news over Michael Jackson and Terri Schiavo, I can't understand why the media and the conservatives aren't upset about this two hour abortion being shown at theaters across this great nation. The more I think about this movie, the more abominable it becomes to me. Scene after scene of nonsensical, elusory clap-trap that are bound together with piano wire and paraffin wax culminating in a blindingly unrealistic corpse of a movie. Seriously, I've seen 16th century brain surgeries that have yielded better results than this piece of shit fuck stain. All in all, I would give this movie two thumbs up. That would be: two thumbs up the rectum on a course through my colon, intestine, stomach, diaphragm, lungs, and throat, plunging into the brain and finally exiting through my eyes so that I will never have to see a movie, or the light of day, ever again. Treat your women right, PEACE!

Up @ 1

Grace has gas. The rain hitting rhe gutter has ghostly sound that is creepin' me out.

More company woes

Today we found out that our jobs here at the company are tetering on the edge of oblivion. Through a series of zany press releases on Yahoo finance we found out that our company has been dipped in gravy and served up with a side of fries (also covered in gravy) to fast track our buyout through the FTC. If approved, we could all be gone within weeks. SICK TIME!!! We have just been sent an email from our current CEO that the rest of this week will be 'Wear Your Jeans to Work' days. Soon after, I expect an email informing us that the rest of the week will be a 'Bring Your Empty Boxes to Work' days which will be followed by the 'Security Guys at the Door to Collect Your Badges' days. Good times. Well, I shall make the most of my remaining salad days here at the office. Long walks through the cafeteria, three hour bathroom breaks, Starbucks anyone? I'm drivin' if you're buyin!' Well, it's getting pretty close to 3pm which means I should be getting home to get my jeans on. Unfortunately, I expect that I will be caught in traffic both ways and will be unable to get back to work today. Also, looking at my unused sick time has given me the vapers...I might have to lay on the couch for a day or so to get over the spins.

You sit for two minutes...then you feel shame. 

First post from the Treo

I'm on the road and attempting to post to my blog. If this works, expect a crapload of updates in the near future.

My cousin's bachelor party

My cousin is getting married this summer in Maryland (strangely, that's where he is from). Because of this, he is having a bachelor party to celebrate his 37 years of independence. I received an email from a friend of his informing everyone to RSVP for the party. It lacked any life or feeling whatsoever:

Congratulations! You have been selected for an invitation to Kraig's Bachelor Party. This is a test email to confirm everyone's email, since Kraig created and sent me this list while drinking. After i confirm everyones address, I'll send out info.

Is this a wake? No, it's a freakin' party! It's just that his big selling pitch is 'CONGRATULATIONS!' with an exclamation point? Whatta dope! My return response hopefully lit some creative fire under his ass:

I will be unable to attend as I have no freaking idea of who this is. Who's Lee? What's this Kraig with a 'K' all about? It all sounds like some homo-erotic, gay porn recruitment scam. I fell for this once and vowed never to put myself through that again. Unless there was free alcohol involved...(is there?) After much thought, and looking over the recipients on this email, it seems that this is a bachelor party for my Maryland cousin, Craig. How embarrassing! After this realization I should really take the extra few seconds to highlight and delete the first paragraph. But, I am a Bauer, which makes me lazy and uncaring to what any of you a-holes might think of me. But this isn't about me, or my laziness, or the fact that all of you might be jerks for judging me; it's about Craig's (or Kraig's), bachelor party. There is a slim chance that I might be able to make it if, AND ONLY IF, I find out what date this party is on well in advance. Being from Oregon, otherwise known the 'FU' state, we still haven't hammered out a plan for an airport. To get there, I would have to latch on to the window of one of the communal busses or pay one of the 4 vehicle owners in the state to drive me to Idaho. Once there, I would have to attach myself to one of the University of Northwest Nazarene’s weather balloons. With good winds, I should reach Utah by August where I could find lodging in a barn owned by one of the many Mormon families in the area. Once I have their confidence, and avoiding any opportunity to plant seeds in their kin, I'll make off with a horse and buggy that they won after a rumble with the Amish. Barring any unforeseen circumstances or instances with the police for possession with intent to blah-blah-blah, I'll hit the great state of Indiana sometime in 2007. From there, one of you will have to give me a lift. Keep me posted. Since I've missed every family function in the last 15 years, I'm due to be there for one of 'em.

What Jerks!

So, a friend of mine (britintheus.blogspot.com) posted and sold a paper representation of my dignity today on eBay. If that wasn't bad enough, it was purchased by my parents! Bastards! I have had it! Now, since I don't have my dignity anymore, and my parents are responsible for anything that reflects badly on my dignity, why not start up a blog and post the worst conceiveable crap imagineable? That said, here is my rebuttal to my dignity being sold: Dear Jerks, I don't know who to direct my hostility towards more: the fish 'n chips fop who posted or the Pennsylvania deserters that now are in the possession of my old dignity. My dignity and I have had a rough go of it over the past three decades. We won T-ball championships together, dated a girl nearly twice our height, and were found naked, half dead in a Tibetan opium den by a renegade troupe of homosexual gypsies. But in all of our time together, THIS outrage is the greatest travesty to both my and the tattered remains of my beloved dignity. Shameful. Before payment is made, and my dignity is transferred, we will have one last hurrah together. Just you wait. For now, I will call upon my friend, Wit, and my metaphorical uncle, Spite, to deal a pox and a curse upon the scroll that contains my dignity. If you choose to hang my dignity in your bathroom, then may your toilet become a rancorous, malodorous, stink hole fit only for feces and bodily excrement. What? That's what a toilet is? Oh, well damn it, I'll think of something...just you wait… See you tomorrow!