Friday, May 04, 2007

Thursday, May 03, 2007

My Non Sequiturs: Rumsfeld

"If I have to hear that stupid pumpkin metaphor one more time, I'm going to come across this desk and punch you in the brain."

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Surfacing, or Trying In Vain

Gunny Boi,

I miss you more than ever.

You can't possibly know the things I wish I could tell you...the great friends I've found...the man in my life...the crazy things that've happened at work.

I found one of your most prized possessions today on the public server: pictures of your dog, Darwin. Some with Grace, a few with Tiffany. Gracie will never know how much you deserved to be her daddy. Today I found the a photo of you that Rumsfeld has been pestering me for. But she won't get it. I can't do it...

My heart hurts so much. I look around and I remember you everywhere - standing between the 950s, with your head inside of one of them, so proud you could take this $250,000 analyzer apart and put it back together again without blinking. We'd snicker when people would leave forceps inside of them, just waiting for some one to get shocked.

I look at the pictures of us, which I will never show anyone, and I'm proud to have stood there in that spirit so tall. I can feel my spine straighten up when I look at them - you and I - in front of 2 flags: the United States, and the U.S. Marine Corps. How corny that would be if you were still here, but somehow it means so much remembering you and I on those cold tile stairs, gazing at each other as the photographer directed us to smile, friends in the true meaning of the word.

But people want to forget. They want to. I feel alone in this. Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning in an ocean of people who are faceless...how can they move on, their lives unchanged, knowing that you are gone, without thinking of your smile?

Top Ten Reasons Why Men Should Be Permitted to Grunt at the Gym

10. Guys tend to fart if they can't grunt.

9. Multiple men grunting simultaneously can sound like a slowed down record of the Boys' Choir of Harlem.

8. Maybe it'll break that idiot couple across the room from their obnoxious flirting which is distracting me from my stretching exercises.

7. Because it sounds like sex.

6. Male grunting is generally sufficient in volume to drown out my cries of pained agony during the torturous walking lunges.

5. Because if they grunt, maybe they won't take their shirts off. Ew.

4. If the rhythm is right, it can sound like a great song from the Pretenders.

3. Because it makes me giggle, which boosts my endorphins, enabling me to make it thorough the last set of assisted chin-ups before dropping to the floor in a narcoleptic coma.

2. It will detract attention from my cellulitic thighs.

1. Good acoustics.