So I was having some drinks with friends the other day and was explaining to them how I was going to be out of town intermittently over the next month or so. My job is requiring me to travel across the province as part of a team from our head office, where we will effectively be auditing the work of our people in the field. I personally would be checking whether they were completing various tasks properly – tasks ranging from filling in paperwork to filling in other, less important paperwork. Fairly dry stuff really. Nevertheless, it is a somewhat adversarial position, as I will be telling people how they’re not doing their jobs. After hearing this, my friend Dan thought for a moment, then said:

“So it’s the Seagull School of Management.”

“Yeah, it’s the, uh… what?”

“The Seagull School of Management. You fly in, shit all over everything, then fly out.”

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Some of my more observant readers may have noticed that perched atop my site lies a Cracked banner, which amongst other things, contains links to various other Cracked blogs. A quick perusal of their sites reveal that they have been apparently been culled from the middle ranks of LiveJournal humour sites.

Normally these other bloggers don’t concern me too much, but because of one of my favorite hobbies (Googling myself), it’s come to my attention that these fellows have been talking about me. This didn’t catch me unexpected – in fact I outright encourage this sort of behavior. I am after all, fascinating. However, unlike the legion of Robotman fan sites and Robotman slash fiction sites that dot the Internet, these blogs have only been focusing on my unflattering traits, instead of, let’s say, my powerfully muscled ass.

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Over the last week or so I’ve seen on a few news sites that British scientists have just figured out the answer to an old dilemma: which came first, the chicken or the egg? The long and short of it is the egg came first, at least if you believe in evolution. The reasoning here is that a chicken can only come from a chicken egg, but a chicken egg CAN come from someone else, namely two almost-but-not quite-chickens having nasty not-chicken sex. If I lost you there, you can click the word immediately after this sentence for the gritty details. Moron.

So, why is this news? I thought it was well established that the chicken vs. egg debate was just a cute version of the evolution vs. creation debate. Creationists believe that on the 6th day God created chickens alongside the rest of the animal kingdom, like the koala bear, the spitting cobra, the humping giraffe, etc. Evolutionists counter that the egg came first, using the reasoning described above. And so, not willing to agree to disagree, over the last two centuries Evolutionists and Creationists have been waging this conflict the only way they know how: with mixed martial arts fighting tournaments.

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So a friend of mine on a forum relates a story about a bizarre letter a friend of his found on a bus. It’s full of the usual teenage angst and petty adolescent troubles, but with a couple peculiarities. The spelling is remarkably bad, even for someone who is clearly English, but that’s not the main thing. It also features that most precious of all teenage writing devices, the made up quiz.

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So I’m running late for work at my usual time (really late), and hop on a bus that reliably carries me to my workplace without incident. Only this time, perched right there in one of the seats towards the front of the bus is the girl whom I broke up with messily 3 months ago.

Robotman’s brain: You’d better act like you don’t see her dude!

Robotman: Done!

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What ever happend to that chick who played the pre-teen love interest in that old Fred Savage video game movie The Wizard? I wonder what she’s doing these days?

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So we’ve entered the silly hour at work (between 4 and 5, when there’s nothing much left to do, but you can’t quite go home yet), and I’ve already read all my daily sites, posted some inane tripe in the forum, and am generally just looking for ways to kill the last hour of the day, when I spy something I haven’t really noticed before:

My white out dispenser.

It’s one of these new fangled white out tape dispensers, where you just press the applicator down and roll it across your mistake and out comes this nice white tape which you can write on right away without it waiting to dry. Pretty cool stuff.

The mechanism itself is conveniently encased in clear plastic, so any inquiring minds can look inside and see how it works. It’s basically one reel of white out tape on a plastic backing that comes out of the dispenser onto an applicator, where the white stuff gets stuck to your paper. The clear plastic backing gets sucked back into the case onto another reel. A couple cogs and gears keep everything in sync.

Here’s the important part. This is the bit where my inquiring mind wanders off and the moron takes over. Even though I can see all the parts, can see what they do, and can see exactly how everything works…… I still feel the need to take the damn thing apart.

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