The New "Me Party"

Election day is tomorrow, and after glancing at the political ads and listening to the vitriolic rhetoric coming from the campaigns, I began to realize that every one of the candidates is as crooked as a dog's hind leg. Many believe that our leaders are not performing admirably, and more than a few believe it cannot be changed. Actually, it would be easy to change Congress, that perverse little segment of civilized society that has served itself far better than it has served the people of this nation. Their long standing tradition of excessive personal gain thinly disguised as public service is due for a change...
So today I'm announcing the formation of the "Me Party". Our motto; "Here's Your Chance to Stuff Your Pants". Everyone in office now is out at the next election. All of them. No exceptions. And not just on the national level, but at the state, county, city, school district and court system level as well.

Now, a Legislature full of rookies is bound to cause a lot of grief for the thousands of lobbyist's who were counting on political favors after years of slush fund cultivation. Many will predict that with all new people in office, inexperience with the political process will create widespread havoc. I believe that. But the naivete of the newly elected ones would surely bring back common sense to governing, and rather than rid the system of graft and corruption, it would facilitate a more equitable distribution of the graft and corruption.
Just look at all the other benefits this could offer. First, all those people on the dole in public service would have to get back into the mainstream work force with the rest of us, and actually live by the rules they made. Second, if we elect all new people in every election, then pretty soon all of us would be enrolled in the Congressional Retirement Plan. (also known as "The Works") It's a win-win for everybody.

I say we break out those voter petitions, and start signing up your neighbor to be the next whatever. Let's slap some names on the ballot that have never been there before. It would also be quite helpful if they all have a rather sordid past with lots of personal difficulty, frequent public displays of embarrassment, or several failed stints at rehab. There won't be much mud slinging if everybody is dirty. Some drug use would be acceptable, but not required, while being drunk most of the time would get a big thumbs up!
So go ahead and pencil me in for dog catcher. I promise to just drive around all day, feed 'em doggy biscuits and throw a few frisbees, then tell the doggies, "See ya tomorrow". And I also promise to drink more (on the job) if elected. Now there's a promise you can believe in.
I'm Mark Davis, and I approved this ad after drinking.

This week's POTW- some kind of really cool thing I have no idea what it is but it was very heavy and weathered.

Photo credit: Mark Davis
The POTW carries a money back guarantee and is never sold over the counter or off the rack.

TRIPPIN' ON THE GULF COAST

I just returned from the Gulf coast, where I had a marvelous time. I won first place in the Sand Sculpture contest at the beach. I constructed a very large refinery, complete with gas burn off towers and shoddy maintenance records. The judges thought the oil and tar balls added a nice touch of realism to the whole thing. I would have taken a photo, but some government people came in a bulldozer and scooped it all up into a dump truck. Then they said it never happened, and if I didn't shut up, my family and I would be institutionalized for the rest of our lives. I reminded them that we are all a bunch of certified crazies, and there isn't an asylum built that we can't take over. If they put all my relatives in the same building there would be such a conflagration as to stagger the imagination. Before you can ask, "Who ordered all these Margarita machines?", we'll be running the joint. We're talking wholesale inmate releases, weekend passes for the rest, staff reductions, and deficit spending becoming the new Standard Operating Procedure.


We'll also have the best looking lawn of any nuthouse around, because we know how to talk to the plants. That's why they're on our side. Keep that in mind during any attempt to retake the facility.


Which brings me to this week's POTW. Salt on the rim. About a weeks pay for a Roman Centurion. Life is good. Enjoy it.

THE GOSPEL OF ST. SAM

A Reading from the Book of Economics

1. Thus it came to pass, that the Lord gazed upon the Profit Sam as he wandered across the vast wasteland of the Retail Desert, parched of bargains, for it was devoid of markdowns and sales.

2. And the Lord spake unto Sam, saying, "Build thee an Ark of a store, and bring forth the products of the land in all their glory, and give them exaltation. For I shall smite The Man of Facturer for his Anti-Trust sins, and he shall lament his predatory ways."

3 "Verily, I say unto thee, I shall bring forth a great flood of cheap stuff, such as Man has never witnessed, and he will be hip-deep in those who have not their documents, toiling for 2 pieces of silver a day."

4. "Behold, a great wailing shall be heard excuviating from the boardrooms of the damned. And they, too, shall be forever cast into the depths of defective merchandise and venomous service, as from the serpent, swadled only in the unravelling crap that matches not."

5. So the Profit Sam did as the Lord commanded, lest he appear as the Eunuchs of the Temple, barren within the loins.

6. Thus it came to pass, that the wicked decried their fate, adorned in lead-tainted robes whilst standing before the temple of the unemployed. For they sought covenant with the bargain, and it was defiling.

7. Tho, as the pagans harvested dung in the fields, their masters lamented the extirpation of the 401K's within the tabernacle, and became fearful. So began the building of the great walled tribes, dividing the chaste from the teeming throng of untouchables.

8. And the deep discounts did appear before Sam, and he brought forth the price rollback, and the people were joyful. For even the Pharaohs did extoll the Door-Buster markdown, knowing the pagans sought to possess a bargain, even if they did need it not.

9. For it was the Crusade to lay to waste the Palace of Overhead that did smite down the craftsman, and they were banished to the Valley of the Homeless, then brought before those in judgement. And they asked of them, saying, "Why doest thou hide thy chariot of Pontiac, Heathen? Does thou try to deceive the repo priest of the temple?" And they mocked the idealist's, and their scriptures, and kicked sand upon the sandals of the umpires, and were scornful.

10. And lo, a darkness fell across the whole of the mall, and the money changers became fearful, and sought loan extensions from the temple leaders, but were rebuked by them, and chastised for their own tribute.

Picture of the Week 5-24-10

Greetings,

Many of you have been wondering what happened to the POTW last week. Judging from the emails I got, some people were concerned, asking, "Was I taken off the list?", or, "Did something happen?". The majority just asked, "Where's my *@#% POTW, you lousy #&@*%!?" That, and, "I know where you live, #$@%&!".

Suffice it to say, I can't tell you where it is or what transpired. I have been sworn to absolute secrecy. (as if aliens could discerne a 'Promise' from a hole in the ground) But, since they were nice enough to let me fly their little saucer thingy, I won't reveal anything about that. Except to say, I'll pay for the mailboxes I knocked down, and sorry about the crop circles that turned out to be rather rude. (It was my first time, for crying out loud)

I want to assure you the aliens won't be back anytime soon. I sent them on their way well stocked with liquor and Ding Dongs left over from a previous scientific study. That, and a bad taste in their mouth, so to speak, for our benevolent species. They think we all taste like that old Fruitcake I had been using as a TV stand since 1983. (until the TV finally crapped out)

This week I am pleased to announce the opening of a blog this site for the POTW. Here you can publicly renounce anything I say, and post general threats and lies about whatever you want. Since this is a work in progress, it may take some time for it to become totally "Stalker Friendly", so be patient.Oh, yes, the link. If this link doesn't work, just copy and paste it into your web bowser. Bow Wow.

http://markdavisnation.blogspot.com/ 

This week's POTW is a grill full of Steaks. If you can almost hear them sizzling, then you're probably drooling on your keyboard. Use a napkin when viewing.

I Can't Get Fired From My Job!

Go figure-
I can't get fired from my job. And it's not from a lack of effort. I tried everything I could think of, and nothing worked. Hell, I don't even have a contract.
I stole money from the company. Called the boss profane names. Came in late. Came in drunk. Didn't come in at all.
Nobody said a word.
I slept with the owners wife, his ex-wife, and a few of his friends. I wrecked his car on numerous occasions. Took his parking space when my car was leaking oil.
Nuthin'.
I have a big box full of resignation letters that were all returned unopened. I tried cussing the clients, firing the clients, making lewd and suggestive remarks to the clients, soliciting sex from the clients.
Other than getting laid- still nuthin'.
I tried setting a bad example. I drank on the job. I insisted that the other employees drink on the job and watch "Three Stooges" videos all day. I encouraged insubordination, then I pinned up crude and obscene jokes. I ate the bosses food. Drank his liquor. Fondled his wife. In public.
That's right. No response.
When clients showed up at the door, I told them to beat it!
"The great and powerful OZ doesn't work on Thursdays, Ass Hat!"
I unionized the staff, then organized a strike. I scheduled meetings, then didn't show up. Left the toilet seat up and didn't flush. Left the seat down and, well, you know...
I made a big sandbox in the lobby and put all the clients expensive products in it. I screwed stuff to the walls and let animals roam free around the studio.
That got me a raise.
I used company credit cards to buy VERY personal items, with no intention of ever paying it back.
I tried not showering for several days. Shaving my head. Wandering around barefoot, in my underwear. Leaving lights on. Turning the AC off on hot days. Taking up two parking spaces, both of them handicap.
Nothing.,
At last, I thought I had finally found a way to get fired. I never signed the job application. But, as it turns out, it didn't matter. I lied on the whole thing anyway.
Such is the curse of self-employment.
Any helpful suggestions would be appreciated.

If You've Ever Worked for a Really BIG Company...

In the beginning, there was nothing. And from the great void the Plan was brought forth and into the light. Then came the Assumptions, but they had not form nor content, for the Plan was bereft of substance. So it came to pass that the employees gazed upon the Plan. And a great darkness fell upon their faces as they spake amongst themselves, saying, "It is a crock of shit, and it won't work. It stinks!" And, lo, the employees pleaded in supplication unto the supervisors.

And behold, the supervisors went before their managers, extolling unto them and declaring, "It is a pail of dung such that none can suffer the odor cast forth".
Henceforth, the managers sought audience with the Division VP's, and did herald unto them "It is a large container of excrement, and it is very strong, such that none may dwell in it's propinquity!"

And the Division VP's, after much convocation, appeared before the Most Holy Senior VP's, portending "It is a great vessel of fertilizer, and no one can abide it's strength!". So the Senior VP's did congress before the High Priest President, pronouncing "the Plan doeth embody that which allays plant growth and is very piquant."
Upon which, the High Priest President did congregate with the Board of the Temple. And he rejoiced unto them, "It abets growth, and has abundant puissance." Thus, the Board sanctified the Plan and didst decree it to be so written.

And so, it is written, the Earth did quake, and the curtains in the great boardroom were rent in half, as were all the stock options held by the Pharaohs. And all the 401(K)'s held in the land became as fishwrap. Thus, the employee's were enjoined with the people in disgust, shouting, "Crucify them, Crucify them".

Lo, the hedge fund managers of the temple did became fearful. For they knew not from whence the plan did arise, believing in false gods as the Pagans. Henceforth, the Heathens did challenge the Pagans to a battle in the ancient forum before Caesar the Wheezer. Whereupon hearing of such a battle, Caesar did wager the Pope forty thousand pieces of silver and his most prized donkey, offering unto him a spread of more than 12 men. But the Heathens failed to go forth into the postseason, and Caesar lost his ass.

And it came to pass, like oats through the oxen, that they did maunder about the judicial Desert of Appeals for 40 years. Even so, the legal numismatics hoarded all the gold, silver, and Credit Default Swaps amongst themselves, mocking the people and boasting, "It may well be a crock of shit, but I love it". This is how shit happens and smart lawyers make money off it.
Verily I say unto thee, even though my cup runneth over as the diaper of a newborn, yea, I shall not wallow in the pity of the city. For though I walk in the valley of the shadow of bankruptcy, I will fear not the plan.

And behold, there was a Most Holy One, begat in the sacred oasis of Dementia Congressimas, or DC, and they called unto him The Bailout, which means Chomea DaCash, the Prophet of Profits. And he consecrated the land, and seeing that is was fertile, blessed the tax collectors and money-changers of the temple, anointing them with tar and feathers.

And the people did gaze upon the Bailout, and as a darkness fell across their faces, as they spake amongst themselves, saying, "Well, here we go again. Another crock of shit".

"EXECUTIVE DECISIONS"

This applies to everyone, not just the idiots who live in Dallas. Wait, that's me! All over this wonderful nation, there are decision makers who cannot make a decision. So they turn to computers to decide for them. They are called "Executives", and what they do is make "Executive Decisions". But, I digress. The computers they rely so heavily on must be fed data to arrive at a decision. So the "Executives" are constantly seeking data, or input, about upcoming decisions. This input comes from a variety of sources, most of which are unsavory and crude in nature, but some of it comes from companies that create "Focus Groups". These are regular people that fit within a certain criteria, based on the particular survey, who are asked about this and that regarding a topic or subject. I have participated in these things, and all they want is for you to express you opinion about something. Best of all, they pay an average of 75-100 buckaroos for an hour or so of your time. Imagine getting to rant and rave and get paid for it. Cash. Immediately. Try that at home. I get calls and emails from them weekly, and most times I qualify.
But here's the unbelievable part. They often overbook the focus groups, just in case somebody blows them off. Twice now, I have been the odd man out, which means they give me my envelope with the cash inside and send me on my way. No participation, but paid the same money to show up. Now, I'm not saying that if someone gave you $100 cash and freed up an hour of your time that you have to go to a bar and drink, but you could if you wanted to.
So, bottom line. Some "Executive" with no cajones is willing to pay me to figure this decision out for him. SWEET! And he's even willing to pay me to go away and get drunk. SWEETER! Can I get a "Hell Yeah!" from the Choir?!
Anyway, the trick is to get your name on the "List" of your local provider of these services. The one in Dallas is called Fieldwork Dallas. Here's the link: http://www.fieldworkdallas.com
They have branches in other cities across America. The other company that does these here is Murray Hill, but I don't have a link for them. They are national as well. Give 'em a piece of your mind and tell 'em how you REALLY feel!
But don't make the same mistake I made. Wait until you get home before you roll around naked on the pile of money.