Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Exciting New Amazon.com Services

As many of you know, Amazon has been revolutionizing how we shop. From delivered groceries to drones that drop off packages in 30 minutes.

I sat down with an Amazon rep and asked him about future ventures. I think they will amaze-zon you!

Prime Wipe: This is the cutting edge of full service marketplace. You’ve just used the restroom and you don’t have time to wash your hands or deal with unpredictable toilet paper directions. Prime wipe is for you. You text Amazon and let them know when you plan on using the restroom. Amazon will send you a guaranteed wiping time and a drone will arrive just in time to give you the Executive wipe you demand. Also, there’s Prime Bidet where a drone with a squirt gun will do the job for those of you with discerning tastes.

Prime Spouse: Let’s say you’ve had it with your significant other. You’re tired of their crap and want just one day to yourself - Prime Spouse is for you. Prime Spouse will surrogate for you for however long you need to get the taste of BS out of your mouth. Amazon’s staff of spouses are trained in the areas of 1) agreeing with nonsense, 2) having bad sex, 3) explaining yourself and much, much more.

Prime Wreck Your City: Let’s say you live in a city that has been named “Most Livable” and your taxes are now through the roof. You don’t want to move, but you don’t want to live in Detroit. Prime Wreck Your City will remodel your city to lower your property taxes by a) bottlenecking traffic for 60 miles in all directions, b) taking every last bit of soul out of your city, c) CYCLISTS! CYCLISTS! CYCLISTS!

Prime Dump the Body: We’ve all been there: you’ve murdered someone and now it’s time to dispose of the body. You aren’t in the CIA or the Mafia and you know you’re over your head. Prime will send out a drone to pick up the body and dispose of it in the nearest ocean.

Prime Eat for You: If you’re like me, sometimes you just don’t feel like getting up - even to eat. Prime Eat for You works like this: you select a meal from your phone and we pay a guy to eat it for you. You can have that steak and mash potatoes and never worry about your waistline.

Prime Feather in Your Cap: You've just been promoted. You want to let everyone know, but you don't want to be "that guy". Amazon Feather in Your Cap will send a courier with a feather that says Promotion or Dating Hot Chick or Ate a Five Patty Fat Burger and put it in your hat for all to see.

Prime Stick Your Head in a Fire: You don’t know what you want. You can’t make decisions. You want to do something with your life, but you cower in your shell and hope that someone will make those decisions for you. Well, Amazon can help you. You simply log into Amazon.com and after two hours of random browsing with no discernible executions of purchases - Amazon will send a drone with a small fireplace and physically stick your head in it.

Prime Tell Your Kids the Pet is Dead: You get the idea.

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

State of the Union

The State of the Union

By: Tim McGeyverson

Hello, I'm Tim McGeyverson and here's my State of the Union.

First, I just want to start off by saying the Union is fine. Everything is OK with old Tim, so no cause for alarm.

However, the year started off a little on the musty side when I ordered a Big Mac at the local McDonald's and received no special sauce. This was back in February, 2015. I remember thinking "This should have been in my State of the Union address a month ago." But it was too late. But I wrote it down so that I would remember it.

I also remember Nancy Halloway's unfortunate decision to not buy insurance from me in March. At that point, it was looking like a pretty shaky year, but things began to go the McGeyverson way around April when my wife gave birth to our little miracle Ronald McGeyverson. Nothing has brought more happiness to any of the State of the Unions before this happening.

So, at the first quarter of the year it was kindov a mixed bag - no special sauce, no insurance sale, but I got a baby. And not just any baby, this kid is fully functional. It cries and needs to be fed and doesn't always sleep and drives me nuts. So, it's kinda one of those things where at first the State of the Union was all good around April, but then it kinda started going downhill around May when this stupid baby kept crying and stuff. 

I was telling my wife about how the baby was great and then stupid and she didn't understand and then she started crying. So, this was the event for June: my wife crying. She's still probably crying. Everything is about the baby. Around July I started thinking - this baby really, really, really sucks. It reminds me of the State of the Union in 2003 when I got this great job selling insurance, but then later found out that there were quotas and stuff and if I didn't sell insurance I would lose my job. That really grinded my gears. 

But that baby wasn't going to go away. I seemed stuck with it. The only time I got to myself is when I was at work, at the bar, watching the game, gambling, or sleeping with my wife's friend.

Oh! That was a really good part of the State of the Union - my wife's friend. She's about three times more attractive than my wife and she doesn't have a stupid baby. Also, she would loan me money. 

But just like the baby, my wife's friend ended up biting me in the ass when she decided to really be my wife's friend and told my wife about our affair. So, once again something really cool ended up really sucking. Don't get me wrong, like I said the Union is good even now, but there's these ups and downs where my wife's friend or this baby seem great and then make life miserable for me.

On the international side I was sorry to see all the war and stuff and the drugs and the missing children and the poverty and stuff like that, so that's like a little bit of the State of the Union, but not a lot. Not by a long shot. There's still all these other problems that the President doesn't like to talk about. 

Like Bill Pare. Bill is a coworker who thinks he "caught" me looking at a filthy website, when in fact, I had by accidentally typed "big butt fetish plus midgets" in my web browser. Well, Bill decided to tell my boss and they checked the logs on my account and sure enough - Tim McGeyverson gets written up. 

This was in August. So, by the end of the fiscal year I was thinking "The hell with this Union - I'm moving to Canada or Utah or something." But then, another miracle came my way: I won 80 dollars in a Powerball. It wasn't the jackpot, but let's just say Tim got a free steak the next day. But just like always, turns out eating a free steak at a strip club when your wife is sick and the baby has the mumps and you are gone all night turns into yet another problem for old Tim. 

So, it's like by September when I'm thinking "Tim McGeyverson can't win at this life thing." But then I had an outstanding sales month when I figured out that if I write in bogus sales and then go back and say the buyer changed their minds and plus use Gary's password to do all this I end up being salesman of the year. It's the type of thing Tim McGeyverson deserves, what with the crying wife and baby and that special sauce thing still ticking me off.

So, by October I was like top of the world. I still had the stupid baby and wife that would never sleep with me again, but so what? I was salesman of the year. 

November rolled around and there was still war and stuff and the crying baby, but there was also this Thanksgiving fishing trip I had with my buddies for two weeks. I was so glad to get out of the house and just have a little time to myself. And guess what? The crying baby and wife were gone when I got back! I was so stoked. It seemed everything was going my way.

Until December when I realized the wife and the baby were gonna take the house and most of my money and this stupid "investigation" about my using Gary's password to falsify documents started up. Can it really be called an "investigation" if the cops aren't involved? 

That's what I asked. Then the cops got involved. 

So, I spent most of January in jail, I'm jobless now, and homeless and am using a library computer to write this year's State of the Union.

So, President Obama - here's a look at the real America! Take a good look - it's folks like me that cheat on their wife and neglect their children and break into Gary's computer that are getting screwed! Where's the relief for us???? Where's my Obamacare????

But, like I said, the Union is still fine. I'm able to use this library computer to write this and I found a soup kitchen that doesn't kick me out for cutting in line. Plus, that baby and the wife are gone. I mean, you really have to look at the State of the Union with a fresh set of eyes and you'll see that your Union is good. Maybe not as good as that Union of the Snake that Duran Duran had, but it's still OK.

God bless.

Thursday, January 7, 2016

I will bet you twenty bucks that I love to gamble

I will bet you twenty bucks that I love to gamble.

Gambling has been around since dinosaurs walked the Earth. Back then, you only had like three games: Gin Rummy, Texas Hold 'Em, and this REALLY shitty slot machine made out of a tree, some rocks, three cantaloupes and three cherries. 

Gambling slowly evolved with sport and by the time the mammals ruled the Earth, there were the first small casinos. Small rodents would gather in holes and play Pai Gow and Keno - that's how they survived the asteroid blast that killed all their dino-buddies.


"Hit me!" 


"I'll kill you!"


Kenny Rogers makes no secret of his love of gambling, as seen below in the song Lady. I have added some notes:

Lady, I'm your knight in shining armor and I love you - This is about Kenny sidling up to a slot machine. The armor is shiny like gold and yet, it's armor that protects the gold...Kenny's gold.

You have made me what I am and I am yours - This is Kenny basically admitting that he has a gambling problem.

My love, there's so many ways I want to say I love you - Kenny can't explain his love of gambling; he can only gamble - that his how he shows it.

Let me hold you in my arms forever more - This is a play on words, this is Kenny saying he's "holding": he's holding his cards, holding his bet, and holding his love for gambling.

Later, Kenny would write a song called The Gambler about botox.

Gambling has changed its face so many times. When I was a child you could buy lotto tickets or go to Las Vegas. Now, you can go to the reservations or the bar and gamble. Hell, most people gamble at work. I am in 38 different variations on fantasy football even now in the post season. In fact, I'm gambling with my other hand while I write this.

Gambling has taken control of America...and I want to salute our shiny overlord! You truly have me what I am, Gambling, and I AM forever yours.

They say life is a gamble - and they are right. Every day you gamble. Just getting out of bed opens you up to oddsmakers. Chances are you'll live - but would you bet on it? I wouldn't. Look at you.

"God doesn't play dice" - this is a quote typically attributed to Einstein, but it was actually Jesus who said this right before he pulled out a package of dominoes. Point is, even God gambles. All of them. I don't care what religion you are, your God gambles. I should know, I use a lot of drugs. 

I bring you all this information as March Madness slowly approaches. This is the time of year when I get excited about sports. Anyone can win March Madness. You can ask your buddy "What's a Manzel" as I did and still win. That's the sort of absolute lack of sporting knowledge you need to win at March Madness. The reason is there's just so many variables. I once made it to the very end based on picks given to me by a friend's four year old. It's that simple. I don't even know what basketball is; I just know I sucked at it. 

This year, I'm going. Yes. You can go to March Madness. That may seem tricky as the games are in different states and are on at the same time....but it's not. Las Vegas is essentially the closest you can come to "going to March Madness." And I will be there.

My friend who goes every year has tried to talk me out of it as he has deemed me a cooler. A cooler is a person who can ruin any luck within a half inch. They made a movie about it. I think it was called Titanic. Point is - this guy thinks he can talk me out of going to March Madness. Boy is he wrong. Little does he know I have been "cooling" him for decades. In fact, he thought he was impotent from 2005 - 2007, but it was just me hanging outside his house when he was on dates. 

I have already booked my ticket and air and I am going to "go mad". Going mad is when you gamble degenerately For instance, the year that I was at Mt. Baker and we stopped in at a casino and 10 hours later I was taking out cash from a credit card to gamble more. Or last weekend when I stopped at three different casinos losing 1200 dollars in the process. Going mad is a lot like "going clear" in Scientology. You basically remove your ego and accept that you are just going to destroy yourself. It's invigorating. Call it the Kamikaze piloting of capitalism. This is where gambling becomes a sport - and I am the Ray Charles of gambling.

I imagine my madness will begin at SeaTac airport where the mere idea of losing thousands of dollars will get my giddy and lead me to wallop a shocking 1000 dollars down at a magazine shop for lotto tickets. I'll probably forgo any scratching and proceed to just scan the tickets for winners and see just how many I can buy before my plane takes off. Then I'll think "What if I miss my plane?" Then I'll think, better make a bet! Then I'll try to bet on whether I will miss the plane with people and finally get a taker and then I'll bet that I'll miss, but then I'll make it and have to leave the plane to pay the dude, but then the plane takes off and I WIN. Point is, I WIN.

Once I gamble my way out of SeaTac, I'll arrive at McCarron International airport, named after bloated college basketball coach and chronic alcoholic, Scott McCarron. There I will play the McCarron International slot machines until I smoke 64 cigarettes, bracket style.

At this point, I will be flat broke and will need to sell my clothing and iPod for taxi fare. With the leftover money I will play a PRICE IS RIGHT slot machine until I am totally broke. Then I'll go to sleep and wake up and sell my room to gangbangers for 40 dollars and then play Roulette. By this time I will bet conservatively and make all my money back, call the cops on the gangbangers, clean up my room and then get really loaded. Then I will go back to the casino, blow the money, and wind up at square one. 

That to me, folks, is a good time.

The moral here is that gambling is good and good for you. Just ask that college basketball guy Eli Manning or tennis legend Eric Estrada. 

Sports and gambling are about as American as bombing dudes and wearing a bandanna as underwear. Just ask professional soccer player Joe Namath.

Or curling star Michael Jordan.

Wait, so the moral of the story really is I don't like sports, but gambling IS a sport, so that is the sport I like. 

If you don't believe me, ask running back Claire Danes.

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Let's talk about that football conversation

How about that football conversation?

People misunderstand me when I ask this, so let me spell it out: I don't want to talk about football. I want to talk about football conversation.

What I'll typically get is something like: well, the Vikings are a favorite, because it's gonna be cold, but the Seahawks -

And then I will cut them off. "No, asshole. I want to talk about the conversation. Like when you talk about what you just talked about. Let's talk about that. Let's talk about how people are communicating football to each other."

Dumbfounded. They don't understand. It's OK.

So, for example, let's talk about how one approaches another person for football conversation. It typically starts with an exclamation, like "Hey!" or "Huskies!" or "Tony!" Let's talk about that. Here's a little list:

Hey! - There's a good chance you barely have a job. Everyone in the office secretly talks about how you are a nice guy/girl, but you really have no idea what you're doing.

Huskies! - You want to like football too much. It shows. Everyone in the office assumes you are hiding something. Every time you shout "Seahawks!" to start a conversation, everyone assumes you are really yelling "I'm a terrorist!"

Tony! - You are identifying who you are talking to across a lunch room of people. You have no shame. You like football so goddamn much that you want everyone to know that you are about to engage Tony in a conversation about it. You are a true fan.

Your next move is going to be actually acknowledging what you are going to be talking about. Again, let's work with a list:

So, how about that game? - You didn't see the game. You don't like football. You like being liked. 

Did you see my Cougz last night? - You saw the game. However, your personal property assessment on the team tells folks that you probably just got involved in liking football and probably just took a look at the score so you could talk about it. Again, you just want to be liked. But doesn't everyone? No. I don't like being liked. That's why I talk about football conversation and not football.

So, what do you think about Sunday? - This is a man who knows football. Or woman. Or terrorist. The point is, there's a human here who knows football. What's telling is that they actually want to talk about an upcoming game. In this case, they will need to know about football in order to keep a conversation up about the ups and downs of the game. This person likes football. They probably have been following it for awhile. 

From there, the conversation will lead into small snippets of what could make a team win or lose. Typically, this conversation is peppered with BUTs and WHAT IFs. No one wants to totally discount a team. That's really putting yourself out there. Because if you're wrong, that person is going to remember it and come at you in the hall and say something like "So, the Vikings will lose, huh? Didn't look like it on Sunday!" And then you have a fist fight and two terminations. 

From here you have a whole lot of trying to maneuver out of the conversation when both parties realize they could be out of their element and if something like statistics or wind chill factors being a factor in the last 45 seasons....that stuff can really nail you as someone who is not passionate about the game. You can only get so far talking about football when eventually, you have nothing left to talk about, as shown here:

"Dunno, man, there's a good chance anything can happen."


"I mean, you know, anything could happen. You know, that saying Any given day?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I'm just saying that....any given day you can...win a thing."

"OK, I'm going upstairs now."

And that was your boss. And now you're fired because you couldn't talk about the football. You held on too long. You made about four minutes. The average football conversation is five. No one surpasses seven unless they are drinking beer or are a professional coach.

Another tragedy is the person who knows only one phrase that has anything to do with football and just keeps repeating it. This can be heartbreaking.

"I'm IN!"

"Yeah, you watching the game?"

"I'm IN!"

"Cool. Man. Where you watching it?"

"I'm IN!"

"Hey, cool down, man. You wanna let go of my arm?"

"I'm IN!"

And then you have another fired employee clutching a man's arm and spouting out a ridiculous football rally cry that eventually leads to tears. They pull the guy off and it's just a silent "I'm IN!" through tears and it all comes down to overreaching. Talk about the weather or how long it is until the weekend. Picking up football as a go-to conversation takes a little bit of homework.

Lastly, I want to warn you of the football zombie. There are people that will talk to you about football against your will. These people will grab you in the hall by the arm and shout "Go HAWKS!" and they won't let go. They will get down deep into the game with you. If you don't like football, too bad. This person will follow you up five floors and will not stop talking about football. This is usually a sign of a person who has so secluded themselves from society that the only cord to life they have is football conversation. They no longer care about their job, the wife left, the kids are in jail and they are left looking up obscure statistics on their computers and adjusting their fantasy football teams to the nth degree. The only way to get rid of them is to walk them right into a bigger football fan than you and then hoping that they take the bait. If that doesn't work: murder.

Feel free to hit me up on the football conversation. I love talking about it. Like those guys that will just shake their head at you when you start innocently talking about football like you have no idea what you are talking about and the anger this provokes. Like, hey, man, I like football too. And, no, they just shake their heads like you're stupid. 



Tuesday, January 5, 2016


It's time I started writing resolutions. 

I write today from the year 2016, and it's time to get resolute.

Today, going forward for the entire year I pledge to not add bacon. I pledge to use filters on my cigarettes. And I pledge to only drink one fifth a night.

These are small sacrifices everyone can make. People need to be realistic about their goals, and I am going to be realistic. 

For instance, I will not start giving money to homeless people. But I will start making eye contact with them. For instance, when I stop at a street light and there is a homeless person with a sign, I will look directly at them and shake my head NO, and then hold that stare until the light turns green. 

In the past I have been known to not wash my hands after using the restroom. Today, going forward, I will begin to turn on the faucet for a couple of seconds and give the brief impression that I care enough about your opinion that I will pretend to wash my hands. Make no mistake! I will not begin to wash my hands. I will only begin the illusion of washing my hands.

Listening. It's important to listen to people. I have a hard time with this as most people have nothing worth saying. Starting now, I will begin to nod when you are talking to me instead of making the talky-talky sign with my hand walking away while you are a mid-sentence. At no time will I begin to listen to, but I will give you the impression that what you said serves a purpose that requires my attention.

Beginning today I will no longer harass you, Beth Newkirk. Sure, we went out for three weeks in Junior High and, sure, that meant nothing to you as evidenced by your restraining order, but all of that is in the past. No more will I tell people that Beth Newkirk once blew a goat. Or that Beth Newkirk is a Nazi, or that Beth Newkirk eats babies. No, the truth stands for itself and there is no reason to believe or not believe my statements concerning Beth and there's no reason for me to continue to harass her. Stalking is a totally different animal. That'll continue. But no more harassment.

Today I also pledge to come in to work before noon. That means I am guaranteed to be in the office at lunch, unless I'm taking my lunch outside the office, in which case I will be in at one. But make no mistake, the clock starts at noon. The clock will continue to stop at 4:30, but the clock starts at noon. No more coming in at 4, or 3, or 2. This is a promise that I will keep.

For the rest of the year I will not walk into Fred Meyer with just boxers on while pretending to be too drunk to notice. For now on I will level with the Fred Meyer community and let them no that I was just too lazy to put clothes on. No more charade from me. The truth is out there and it's I just didn't feel like putting pants and a shirt on. I may happen to be drunk, but that has nothing to do with why I'm almost naked. And you can take that to the bank.

Looking before I pull out of a parking spot? You guess it - that's on my resolution radar. Ben Holmes, Jacob Meyers, and John Kirby know how it feels when I just basically don't look before I pull out of a parking spot and all three have sued me and won monies to help me along with this resolution. Going forward, I will crane my neck left and right and look to make sure that nothing as big as a human could be broken to death under my car wheels as I pull out. Now, this does not include pets. A car is God's way of telling you your dog or cat is too small and I will continue to not see these animals....maybe next year, Fido.

Shoplifting. No more? No way. But I will promise not to shoplift out of the homes of friends and family. This includes your drugs and jewelry, but excludes things like grapes or almonds or stuff where you're kinda on the fence about whether you can take them. Beer I will continue to shove in my pockets, but your wallet is safe. 

There are a lot of ways to better yourself if you just look. It does not take a whole lot of effort to turn a vice into a nice. That's why I challenge you to make a difference in your community. Whether it be stopping at traffic lights or picking both nostrils of your nose at the same time, there is room for growth. And isn't that what we're here for? Growth. Not all of you can be like me and stop taking tips that are left at tables, but continuing to not tip. No, maybe you need to take baby steps. Maybe you need to do things like move out of your parents house or start wiping. One man's stop eating donuts with cocaine on them is another man's stop shaving animals that happen to walk by. 

Make this a special year of growth.