You So Grazy

Ok the last thing I want to be is redundant, but I am on to something. Before I wrote the post on mass texting I was discussing its abuses with Iron Man and Marathon Man. The two of them are great to bounce ideas off of. When I brought up mass texting, I got a luke warm response. Clearly I ignored their reactions and wrote the post anyway. The interesting part of the conversation was Iron Man’s gut reaction to my premise.

            “You mean when a girl texts ten guys ‘Hi’ and whoever responds is getting lucky.” I laughed at the suggestion, “girls don’t do that that’s absurd.” That night I got a ‘hi’ from a certain someone. I did not respond, but my curiosity was certainly peaked. Was I one of many or was this solely meant for me? There is no way I could tell so I gave up quickly. That was until the next Monday at work.

            By Any Queens Necessary works at my company and calls me occasionally when she is bored (or thinks she is about to get fired). She had read the post earlier in the morning, and after having expounded on her hatred towards the mass text she added the following: “The other night I got a text from a guy that said ‘Hey want to stay in and watch a movie’, I have a boyfriend and he knew that, which is why I thought it was weird. I called him and he was like ‘Yeah I sent that to like twelve girls, sorry didn’t mean to include you.” She was clearly still pissed, but we laughed in a scared for society sort of way. She termed it “booty grazing” and I thought that was a robust moniker.

            Rushing through my head were ways to curb this pandemic. Most of them were wishful thinking and it started to wear on me. To my dismay I started to realize that this is going to go on as long as mass texting is an option. Then last night an old story recurred in my thinking.

            There is a boy walking down a beach in the early evening. The tide has begun to go out and there are hundreds of thousands of clams left on the seashore. The boy realizes the clams will surely die if left out of the water for much longer. He starts tossing clam after clam back into the sea. An old man happens upon him and asks: “Boy what are you doing? What is the point? There are so many clams you can not possibly save them all!” The boy smiles at the old man, tosses a clam back in, and replies: “I just saved that one didn’t I?”

            While I may not be able to save the world from this blight, I will do my best to save a few. From now on if you are ever booty grazed and want to get back, leave the male or females name, text sent, and cell phone number in the comments section of this post. Something to the affect of: “Martin 973-555-6667 ‘Wanna come over?’” Butang and I will work with you to determine an appropriate punishment. That can range from an obscene text message from one of us or repeat calls from a blocked number at 3am. If you, our readers, are grazed, you can be certain we will work with you to determine satisfying retribution. We will also publicly admonish that person in a fashion such as: “The Martin – Texting six girls at 2:15 am and winding up eating a burrito and masturbating.” I just saved that one didn’t I?   

Good looks by the Iron Man and By Any Queens Necessary on this one. I guess as long as we’re putting you up on the shady shit going down we’ve done our job. Speaking of shady shit, we will be back at 1pm with an open letter to a high profile CEO. I’m Teddy Jones and I will continue working hard for you at The Gumption.

Moving Up In The World Like....

Here’s a true story you are sure to appreciate. My boss’s boss is a short little weasel of a man. He stands about 5’4” and has the temper of an elephant during mating season. He is the most socially awkward person I have ever met; I cannot find anyone at work that truly likes him. EXCEPT MY BOSS WHO LOVES HIM. Ugh, brutal. The rumors that my boss and her boss have slept together run rampant around the floor. What me worry? It’s not like my bonus is affected or anything. While I wish I could expound on how angry this makes me, I will save it for another post. Instead for all intents and purposes lets call him 1^st class dick head. The following story about him is 100% true and has not been embellished one iota.

            It’s about 8:30 am and I am arriving to work for the day. I come across him in our elevator bank; he has recently retrieved his morning coffee. As is typical he doesn’t smile or even waive hello, no acknowledgement he knows me whatsoever. “That’s cool act like I don’t exist, if I saw you outside of work I’d pay you about as much attention as a girl with a button that read ‘Hey! I have genital herpes!’” While I am cursing myself for working for such a god-forsaken human being, the elevator dings and we both get in. He still doesn’t acknowledge me.

As the doors are about to close, I see Guy 1 racing towards the elevator. Guy 1 proceeds to stick his arm out just in time, trigger the doors open, and Guy 1 steps inside. I hear 1^st class dick head “hmph” in barely audible disgust, but pay no attention. The doors begin to close a second time, but Guy 1 sees a friend. He sticks his arm out and the doors open after almost closing a second time. As the second random dude jumps in and says “Thank You”, I look over at 1^st class dickhead anticipating some sort of reaction. He throws his hands up over his head, high enough to make his shirt un-tuck a little bit, and let’s out a most frightening sound. It was a mix between utter exasperation, mild anger, a Beagle farting, and the hocking of the biggest loogie of all time.

The elevator door closes and I am one of four men in a now incredibly awkward elevator. I turn away from the 1^st class dickhead and look towards Guy 1. “What the fuck was that?” the second dude asks the dickhead, but all the dickhead can do is cower and look at me as if I’m supposed to step in. Sure acknowledge me now you twerp, I smile at Guy 1 and enjoy the rest of the silent ride. They get out three floors below us, silence. The elevator hits our floor, silence. Then just as I am about to sit down at my desk the dickhead goes “What a bunch of dicks huh? Why didn’t you help me out?” My skin crawls and I do not respond.

            I hate it because I agree with 1^st class dickhead on the premise, just clearly not on the execution. Elevators are an area with very grey etiquette lines, and for posterity’s sake I will try to clear them up.

 

• Let People Out Before You Get In: What the fuck happened? I thought this was one of the most obvious rules there is. Ever try getting into an elevator before someone has gotten out of it? It doesn’t work, and you know it doesn’t work. So why then, prey tell, are you waiting in the middle of the doors in the lobby? Do you think nobody is going to get out or are you eager to piss off twelve people hungry for lunch? Wait slightly off to the side please, its just common courtesy.
• Walk It Out: If you’re on the 2^nd or 3^rd floor in a 20-floor elevator bank, you might consider walking. I know that sounds crazy, technology has afforded us some terrific luxuries and you want to take full advantage. Fair enough, but that gut hanging over your belt isn’t going to disappear by itself, and neither is your third chin. You might also want to consider someone besides yourself. You know that gal on the 18^th floor that already has to wait for everyone on floors 4 through 17. It might be hard for you to understand but every time the elevator stops on the 2^nd floor and your lardy butt gets in, she edges a bit closer to homicide.
  
• Get Off Of Your Cell Phone: We’ve already covered this here, so if you’re still doing it you’re not someone I care to know.
• Holding the Door: Ok so what would I have done in this situation? If no one else was in the elevator, I would have held it. If there was someone else already in the elevator I knew, I would have held it. However if there is someone I don’t know in the elevator, I am not holding it. I would rather piss you off, then piss off someone I don’t know. No offense, but once I explain it to you you’ll understand and not be mad. There is one exception; I’d hold the door for Wynton Marsalis no matter what. Guy’s a genius, sorry.
• Unnecessary Noise:  In case you haven’t realized, the scourge that was elevator music has been eradicated. Why then, do you think its ok for you to blare your iPod? The last thing I want to over hear is some muffled version of “Swagga Like Us” feat. You humming. I don’t want to limit this to iPods, your chewing also makes me tense. Whether its gum, bacon, an apple, I really don’t care you can wait the four minutes until you’re at your desk. Remember elevators are small-enclosed spaces; any noise that is usually made in private isn’t for the elevator.

 

Maybe I should adjust that last line because pulling a “Jack The Ripper” in the elevator is even more satisfying than in a subway car. Not only do the people you are in the elevator with have to endure your bouquet, but also those who enter long after you leave. That’s disgusting, I’m Teddy Jones, and this is The Gumption.

Video of the Week

What an incredible moment man, beautiful.

We'll be back at 2 with a Feature of the Creature Variety! Muuahhh-hahahahahha!  I am Theodore Jones and this my friends is The Gumption.

Insert Gwen Stefani Lyric Here

I have recently fallen in love with the “Oatmeal Bar” at Café Bistro. The plethora of options is a king’s ransom. Four different oatmeals, twelve types of fruit, six types of granola, four types of sugar, five types of raisins (for god sakes!), and seven different species of nuts. Who knew there were so many nuts awake at 7:30?

I’m becoming a fiend, concocting numerous complicated combinations on the subway ride to work. “Craisens, strawberries, flax granola, skim milk oatmeal, and some walnuts.” There is one item however, that never even broaches my pondering. Bananas. Why you ask? Warm bananas make me feel like I just saw George Jones nude. While I appreciate his music, I’m not sure I can stomach him all sexed up.

I love bananas plain, but make them all warm and gooey, and count me out. Unless of course you serve me Banana’s Foster with ice cream, caramel, and the alcohol that catches fire. And so goes the dilemma of the banana, there is no other food on earth that can be so immediately tantalizing and so immediately repulsive.

Bananas are firm and soft at the same time, they are slimy but not too slimy, sticky but not very sticky, incredibly moist but not wet. The delicious dichotomies in play are almost too much to handle. Besides being varied in their feel, banana’s can also be served a million ways: naked, in your cereal, fried, in bread, you get the idea. Bananas make grapes look foolish in this arena. “Dude I love grapes”, fine whatever, but you can either eat them or make them into wine. And don’t give me that “you can put it in a fruit salad” argument; fruit salad is a crutch for the indecisive.  

I think the reason I don’t like warm bananas is that they feel like baby food. When they are mushy, bananas become a gooey shell of their former robust selves.  Oh and speaking of mushy, do you remember the first time you bit into a bruised spot? My gag reflex always kicks in when I am expecting something hard but get something incredibly soft……no homo

Perhaps the funniest thing about bananas is that some people refuse to eat whole ones on principle. You have that friend who’s all: “There’s no way I’d eat a banana, I get too self conscious”. In other words, I do not want to eat a food that makes me look like I am performing a sexual act. I get it, but consider this; those same people have no problem burying their face in some watermelon. I’m just saying.

That turned out way more sexual than I had intended it to, but I guess sometimes these things happen. My favorite type of banana? Banana chocolate chip bread or pancakes. Damn you banana, damn you. I’m Teddy Jones and this is The Gumption.

A Quick Note

            A member of the inaugural nickname list has requested a name change. This sort of thing is bound to happen when you are choosing monikers for people. Heretofore and forever more that person will be known as: Chet Steadman. I hope it was worth it Chet, you always did like steak. The rest of you, be forewarned. We'll be back at 2, Monday is bound to be B, A, N, A, N, A, S. I'm Teddy Jones and this is The Gumption

Friday's Dingle Berries

Butang is still ill, and wants you to know: "I've been eating tons of that Jewish penicillin (chicken soup) (no schlomo), and I gutted out this week's Berries just for you!" 

Some thoughts and questions:

•    When did booing people by throwing tomatoes go out of style?

•    Are there restaurants that only accept Discover cards ?

•    People don't use 'psst' enough as a means of getting other people's attention.

•    Some people clap too loud.  It must hurt their hands, cause it hurts my ears.

•    If I were dating a frail girl, I'd make her tell me how frail she is while we had sex.  "I'm soooo frail!"

•    I still don't understand the technology behind Duck Hunt.   

•    How come only mermaids and the devil use tridents as weapons? 

•    I went to a bar to watch a basketball game the other night, and there just so happened to be a Buffalo Sabres game on.  And said bar just so happened to be a Buffalo Sabres bar.  Are there really that many Sabres fans that a bar in Manhattan is dedicated to this team? Gross. 

•    I think Adam Sandler is due for a new Hanukkah song.  Give Natalie Portman her respect! 

•    Who uses the casserole button on microwaves?  "Hey Steve, I'll be out in a minute, I got to reheat this casserole."

•    Can someone please tell me how Brendan Fraser continues to get work?  My theory is the studios have realized how awful he is, so they strictly put him in PG movies now (Journey to the Center of the Earth 3D, Inkheart), where the predominant audience doesn't know what ugly and talentless means.  

•    On the subject of movies, "Paul Blart: Mall Cop" made $39.2 million in its opening week, making it the 2nd largest January opening ever, after Cloverfield.  $39.2 million.  Who saw this?  How did this happen?

•    Why is the play clock during football games always so shaky?

•    Do people still dial 777-film?  I just called and it still works.    

•    Mittins are impractical.  Can't grab nothin'.

Poems for Old People

Grandma and Grandpa

I love you so

Life without you

I’d rather not know

 

Now you’ve got e-mail

We talk all the time

But you abuse it

Please heed my rhyme

 

Those chain letters

Get on my nerves

Be it about Israel,

Diabetes Or Pervs

 

Remember the one

By Sam in 2A?

Not very funny

Not one single way

 

I respect my elders

Cut me some slack

I already know

Obama is black

 

Think before sending

Or delete you I might

You leave me no choice

My inbox is tight