Rejected Colours for Sherman-Williams 2013 "Colour Your Dreams" Catalogue

-Gulag Archipelego Mauve
-Sudanese Child Soldier Taupe
-Xe Dark Grey
-Silent Scream of Existential Angst Eggshell (matte)
-Surprisingly Racist Highschool Facebook Friend Blue
-Stand Your Ground Red
-Euthanasia Purple (waterproof)
-Stress Position Primer (industrial)

1st Draft Birthday Cards

• Remember when you used to look forward to being one year older: more mature, more responsibilities and opportunities?
  And now it's just hoping that the degeneration of your body isn't too catastrophic and that maybe you can make it to a peaceful death without smearing your name on the walls with your own feces?
  Those were great times.
• This card is made from pristine, supposedly protected redwoods of California. The image on the front is of a idyllic untouched coastal scene, though, so there's that.
• Another year older, another year wondering if that delightful absent-minded professor routine you've cultivated since 19 is really just masking advanced dementia.
• Well, you're well past ever making anything of yourself.
  We love you anyways. Happy Birthday!
• You know using today to get a free meal at Denny's means you've lost, in not an unsubstantial way, some very real points in life.
  Breakfast all day though, have a great one!
• Batmobile, Porsche, Ducati, European sports car, Japanese performance sedan, domestic sedan, sport wagon, mini-van. It's called the 'tactical withdrawal of life'.
  HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
• You've now officially spent more time in your life struggling with 'mail merge' than you have spent laughing with your loved ones.
  Milestones.
  Happy Birthday buddy!
• Broadly speaking, you've just turned up on the radar of nearly every actuarian.
  Keep on trucking!
• On balance, though, more of your friends are alive than dead, enjoy your youth, birthday boy!
• The prolonged eye contact with the cute store clerk isn't due to your dignified, Clooneyesque demeanour, it's because you've reached the age where you remind her of her dad. 
•  This is the year that the retirement home billboards take on a certain vicious significance. But you can still drive, happy birthday!
• The Classic Rock station doesn't even play music you recognize anymore. Have a corker!
• 
  

Gabriel García Márquez Denies Your Firewall Request

Your request reached me just as the sun had set, and the sound of cicadas rising with the smell of frying onions and garlic and forgotten bits of lamb from yesterdays repast. It was not my intention to ignore it, indeed, it had done the unforgivable sin of reminding me of the years and months on days and hours since I had last been vigilant, that ever dwindling and ever so important virtue which holds the Group IV IT Security and Audit together, the shield against a rapacious public and the blind, unseeing corporation.

My heart is heavy, pendulous, dripping with, if not pain, then something much like it. If I were to excuse my age and the fading of my keener thoughts -- which were I an infinitely braver man, I'd have to admit was dementia --I still couldn't pinpoint why.

Your request, like so many others, seem reasonable. But the corridors and cobbled alley ways of networks and protocols and Virtual Firewalls and SANs all twisting between each other and over another and no one can say where one came from or where it's going only that it's important, a redolent mango, an untouched liana which would surely bring down the entire rotted ediface if altered.

And so your request must be queried and rethought. Rethought not out of some malice or out of a purposeful forgetfulness but out of a need to reconnect with how everything fits together, crisp bits of tile that clink together, that slowly, with a laziness of one drenched by an August sun, becomes clear.

In anycase, I doubt, quite strongly, that your BonziBuddy.exe needs to connect outside the network.

Opening Lines of Cormac McCarthy's "The Cat In The Hat"

The boy and the girl were  inside. Outside it drizzled an unending fall of dead cloud. They both shivered. Their ball sat motionless in the middle of the room. Not waiting, not sleeping. Maybe dead. The boy looked at the girl.
Not much to do.
Too cold.
They sat and watched the grey splatting outside their window.
She frowned and it creased her face until it might have been a smile but then the shadows faded and there was only that frown.
They both heard it, who first, didn't matter. It was a bump. They jumped.
And then they saw him. Tall, a grin ringed with sharpened canines and a clownish hat, bent in the middle, or sagging, or broken.
Sitting around? He said.
The girl shrugged, the boy just stared.
I know some tricks. Might be worth your time.
They both stared back now. The girl's frown deepened.
Our mother?
She won't mind.
The fish swam to the edge of his bowl, made bubbles like the last sighs of a dry corpse.
That cat must leave. You don't want to play. And he shouldn't be here. Not when your mother is out.
The cat flicked at his hat, the brim jounced a nodding bobbing yes to whatever he was going to say. Chicken?
These are on the up and up. Nothing bad about them. Watch. Up up up, fish.
He grabbed at the bowl, and fish could do nothing, only squirm. Don't drop me.
I don't aim to.

Crushing, Secret HR Policies

• while fraternization is frowned upon, sexual harassment complaints from someone lower on  the totem pole about someone who has, quite literally, carte blanche will always end poorly for the complainer.
• the Kleenex in the break room are for make-up removal or runny noses. Please bring your own supply for crying jags or otherwise personal issues.
• our wellness coordinator is actually a co-op/intern position that's shared with six other mulitnationals across three states. You may book an appointment with him/her in March and late October.
• people who are inordinately thirsty during the day will have their cubicles moved furthest from the watercooler. 
• our 'paid grief time' is for recruitment purposes only. 
• the 'security cameras' are actually used to record the time you take for your breaks and lunch.
• smokers and people who have been deemed 'generally unpleasant' get fewer, and less enthusiastic email reminders to join the Summer Company Picnic.
• there is no typing test when we interview for receptionists.
• all calls that may be monitored are, all calls that no one could reasonably assume would be monitored are. 
• business texts are checked for spelling accuracy, all managers are reprimanded accordingly.
• the heater isn't really broken in the bathrooms. That would assume there are heaters there to BE broken.
• The new front door is a metal detector.

The Waffling Waffle Salesman

Why hello there. You look like you're in the market for a waffle iron, am I right? Unless you're not, I mean there are plenty of perfectly acceptable breakfast foods in the bread group to satisfy the working man's needs, why only yesterday I had a...

Oh, you are?

Well then, well then. I have, I think, just the waffle iron for you. You live in an apartment don't you, or a condo, or a timeshare, or a sublet, or a parked RV, or perhaps a very large house tastefully decorated, or none at all, the bare look.

You.. well, that's not really important, I think you'll agree. What matters is that you are in the market for a waffle iron and I have it right here. The last iron you ever buy, unless you have need of more than one, or your residence catches fire and you don't have the opportunity to go back and get that iron and maybe choose to save a loved one or a photo album or a rather lazy cat, I understand.

We all have priorities.

I think you'll find this is a mighty fine waffle iron, the best money can buy, outside some gold encrusted one with rubies and diamonds and emeralds and maybe with a nice mother of pearl handle that you might have seen adorn the breakfast nook of Sylvester Stallone in a back issue of GQ where collarless tuxedos are actually recommended for weddings; let's just say this as much waffle iron as any reasonable man could wish from one. Not that you can't wish for more, this land was built on dreams and aspirations. We are nothing but apes if we don't have hopes and dreams.

Oh, I suppose we are apes, that's right. I mean the real ones, the ones with hair and live in the jungle and get shot in African civil wars that have raged for decades, those ones.

Let's get down to brass tacks shall we?

This waffle iron here, the Studger Rothsman 2900 has a preheat function, an auto shut off function, completely coated in industrial Teflon for easy cleanup.

But you're right, who knows what's in that Teflon or how much of it comes off in your waffle. I mean one day you're having a simple belgian waffle, maybe with a strawberry compote and the next you're in the CDC where all sorts of doctors are pushing needles and IVs and probes trying to figure out why your spleen and thyroid exploded at once. Not something that we should be paying for in a waffle iron, at least not extra. But you're probably right, where are we if we dont' take a few risks.

And isn't a hot, fresh waffle worth a few risks?

Unless you are averse to them. Or don't like waffles at all, come to think of it. 

Vice Admiral of the Blue Alexander "Like A Steel Trap" Parakov's Last Rallying Speech Before the Great Mutiny Of 4962

I know I ask alot of all here today, what after the quasi-sentient bloodthirsty dark nebula 8301-wS, and the shockingly violent parasitic tribes of the Acbsenmil asteroid belt, there might be some trust issues in the fleet. I mean, never mind the Fzerom brain melters or the curiously strong limb-ripping pond scum from Aquas III. Only a machine, not unlike the Baader Hoff Decapitate-Maim-KILL! Kings of Circuita, to not appreciate that perhaps I'm asking too much; that perhaps every man and woman has a breaking point, as, indeed, the Gel Monsters of the Angel IV Outlander Colonial post found out for everyone there, in the longest time possible. Where was I.

Yes, breaking points. But we are the Inter Galactic Space Force Triumvirate Regiment! Conquerer of galaxies and usurpers of celestial dominions! Our people are made of harder stuff! Sterner stuff! Our suicide rate is nearly 0.000894% off the entire Imperial Navy. That's some real numbers! Sure it might be because we don't count murder-suicides but let's not quibble. I mean, we did include the Suicide Inducer Virus that rampaged through the fleet for nearly 30 years before someone thought that maybe doing a few autopsies might be in order. And it only took 3 more years until we realized that autopsies techinically only apply to the dead. That's a ten fold increase people.

But numbers shmumbers, right? I'm here to talk about victory! Something we haven't seen in anyone's lifetime but, our history assures us, has happened to a regiment that could very well be traced down to us.

And we can have it again.

Just like we shrugged off the Undead Infants of Barbyl 4 and the giant babooned faced multi-limbed Eviscerators off the moon Titus G, I'm sure we can shrug through these difficulties before us. Well, perhaps shrug is not the word. But 'screaming bloodily while rending each other limb from limb while narrowly averting fleet-wide hysterical madness' is hardly a rallying cry, now is it?

I Don't Understand This Mainstream Star Who Is So Popular

I don't understand how this mainstream star can be so popular. Sure he has the looks of a young Errol Flyn and the disarming charm of a Sean Connery during the golden age of Bond films, but please. Really? This guy? With the millions of albums sold and the half a dozen multi-million dollar movies to his credit? I mean, where does the public get off?

Sure he can dance and sing and seems to have the fashion sense of a high-end Parisian heroin dealer while retaining some of that down-home charm that makes even mothers swoon, but come on! It's entirely puzzling. Look at that face! And that skin! It's almost too perfect! How can the general public find him appealing in any way at all?

No one without a published genetic disorder has a chin that chiselled, or a self-effacing manner that calls to mind Carey Grant without some serious, serious personal issues.How is that so hard for Joe Six-Pack to understand?

He's only appeared in films where his natural charm, good looks, or brooding intensity can shine through as electrically charged anti-heroes or heart-stoppingly perfect romantic leads, right? I don't get it. I don't get the draw.

Failed Approaches to Defending Ship Memorabilia Purchases to Your Spouse

• Oh my god, it's not like I said ANYTHING about you wanting to BRONZE Sebastien's shoes? And he has weird feet.
• It's like this, OK, you loved Richard Gere in "An Officer and and Gentleman", right? Well, it's kinda like that. Except without the subtle gay subtext.
• Well, you did make me eat kale. KALE. *looks meaningfully at 1/2 empty plate*
• I could just get a Veritech fighter. 1/60 scale.
• Oh, so your love of anachronism stops as soon as we need 2 feet of bookshelf space for a 110-gun Spanish Galleon with flammable rigging. What? It is.
• I promise this has nothing to do with me calling it "Davey Jone's Locker" down there.
• You said no to my rubber ducky, my rubber sheep, AND my inflatable Betty Boop, and NOW THIS? What is WRONG with you?
• Don't you dare bring my LP collection of "The Captain and Tenille". They are TOO more important to 20th century pop culture than "Sonny & Cher".
• Well, you DID make me learn all those knots. 
• My interest in it has nothing to do with the fact that your lines have evolved from a schooner to a East Indiaman to a 120 gun 1st rate. Nothing at all.
• I'll promise to stop christening and naming our cats. Or prepending their name with HMS, okay?

Prospective iPad 2 Owner With His Thoughts.

Look, I know I live in a state and a city which thinks quinoa is a reasonable substitute for a starch and that gears on bikes an abomination. I know that all my coworkers, immediate family, and extended family who live in this region all love "The Wire", "Arrested Development", and now slightly hate "Arcade Fire" ever since "the Grammy incident". I know there are almost more recycling bins outside my apartment complex than there are elements in the Periodic Table, but still.

I have some expectations.

It'd be nice if the lineup wasn't ten blocks long. Like, 15 people. I could handle waiting for 15 people. But only if those 15 people don't have an itemized list as to why the iPad 2 is really the one to get, and, in the long run, actually quite a bargain.

Also, could the people in my immediate vicinity please not have tumblrs or blogs or twitter accounts that they casually try and advertise? How many streams of information do I need about new Apple products and product rumours and supposed long-term strategy and finalized, objective data on battery lives? Like, ten, at the most, and I already got them.

I happen to like black mock turtle-necks, ok? And jeans. I liked them about two years before Jobs (our prayers and thoughts are with you Steve!) got the look, ok? It'd be awesome if no one pointed tha tout.Or asked me how much my impersonation fees are.

Also, Rio is a perfectly good company. And my iRiver doesn't need replacing. The first 10 hipsters in that lineup who make a crack at it, or the fact that all I have on it is 1/2 of "Razor's Edge" and the "Blues Brothers" soundtrack get a very very hostile stare.

Uncomfortable Movie Synopses

Predator
Ethnics die first. Austrian herrenfolk survives thermonuclear blast in a jungle without cover.

Death and the Maiden
Doctors who systematically rape and torture for a totalitarian regime can afford extremely expensive chamber music seats.

Robocop
Only a horrifying amalgan of machine and half-dead man, funded by and developed for a private corporation for profit can save a major city in decay.

Ocean's Eleven
Eleven hardened life-time criminals are justified in robbing millions from a legitimate business man because he's somewhat cold and happens to be dating the head criminal's ex-wife.

Untouchables
Federal agent has nearly all his best friends killed in a bloody war over a substance that's legalized a few years later.

Red Dawn
Every conflict to ever descend upon Afganistan, transposed to Montana.

Breakfast Club
Over-privileged white kids in the suburbs feel hard done by, get high, have a make-over, collaborate on a letter.

Top Gun
Man learns about commitment only by having his best friend die in practice.

Barton Fink
Wrestling movies pay the bills, not Great American Films.

Monsters Inc.
Entire species are reduced from a warrior band who strike terror in the hearts of millions to a laughing stock of cheap-gag vaudevillians in a desperate bid to keep the lights on.

Leon
A hardened sociopath almost delves into pedophilia, a girl's family dies, and an entire SWAT team is killed so that a ficus can find a better life on private school grounds.

Belle Epoque
A softcore film is not identified as such due to foreign language, soft-focus, and a superb prop-master.

Run Lola, Run
A screenwriter with career ending writer's block writes the same plot out several times, with small variations, just to make his vignette feature-length.

Things I Would Miss From My 20's If I Had Them In My 20's

• washboard abs.
• any abs at all.
• belonging to a team sport.
• belonging, full stop.
• having a nickname that wasn't used with derision.
• keg parties.
• scratch that.
• having a secret handshake/hi-five ritual.
• cruising down the strip.
• having a car to cruise down the strip with.
• knowing where said strip might be.
• having a favourite band.
• going to quirky cultural heritage days of which I'm weirdly proud.
• beach volleyball.
• not the "Top Gun" kind.
• not  the "Dead or Alive" kind either.
• I'm not sure what I mean here.
• witheringly advanced political views.
• handing out Beat Poetry flyers.
• joining an amusingly mismatched club for a girl.
• getting more interested in the club's activities than said girl.
• a koi pond.

L4D2 NPC's and Infected Rejected Out Of Hand

Oil Derrick Worker:
You never see them, because, well, they're kinda isolated, but you hear reports about them, and they sound terrifying.

Tai Chi Master
If you ever swing that ax faster than an heavily sedated sea sponge, he goes down immediately. But should you go slower, HOO EEEEE!.

Hipsters
You only ever encounter their corpses, they go first.

Vegan
He can be found dumpster diving, looking smug and eating rats.Organic rats.

Flautist
A jazz flautist.

Driver
Sits in his car, a well-notated map of Toledo in his lap, a cold cup of coffee on the dash, and him, crying softly.

Concierge
He stands, looking from the door to his front desk, torn behind a hunger for human flesh and a sense of duty.

Gymnast
Stands below the double rings, arms still on the rings, him looking up, moaning.

Foodie
Fusses and pats you down, emits a low 'humming' noise as he considers, invariably leaves you alone.

General Qualities Required for Yacht Captains Employed by Third World Drug Kingpins

• ability to keep eye contact when addressing employer on the "hottub deck".
• past experience with caring for a ficus.
• general disinterest in female anatomy, especially on aforementioned deck.
• experience with pH balance and chlorination of 1/4 Olympic sized pool.
• enjoys 'Miami Vice'.
• supportive, but not too supportive of recreational drug use.
• able to remove tricky stains from snow-white uniform (mud, grass, human brain and skull fragments).
• refrains from 'punching it' at the first sign of law enforcement.
• comfortable with frequent small arms fire.
• knows how to start and operate a Vecoplan K-Model RG70K Industrial Shredder unassisted.
• can do light cleanup (mainly of bent spoons, dusty mirrors, various lengths of rubber hose).
• fond of Billy Ocean.
• equally comfortable talking out of a search and seizure from the Coast Guard as he is having light banter at the dinner table.
• doesn't press the need to wear 'short shorts'.
• competent enough to serve as a spare 4th for bridge, should the need arise

You Can't Afford To Lose Me, I'm The 37th Best Pilot In The Fleet

You can't ground me. I know you want to, I know in that hardened heart of a five star space admiral with oak clusters that you want to bust me down to private first class, have me bustling K-Rations across the fleet in the crappiest rust-bucket you can get out of mothballs.

Well, guess what, you can't. You can't afford to lose me. I'm your 37th best pilot.

Sure, after Stryker and Killion and Raybird, I mean, their kills together dwarf the next 150 pilots down the roster combined. Everybody knows that. And yeah, okay, number 34th on the list, Lieutenant Caberron, from the Xarglaac Nebula isn't exactly a fighter pilot but can fly a really mean intra-fleet transport, isn't exactly a slouch.

Okay, I get it. You got me. But how many pilots do you have like me?

Not counting number 36th and 38th and the fact that pilots 38-179 are separated by the thinnest scintilla of statistics which would hardly hold up to closer scrutiny.

So how many? That's right, one.

Well, sure, there are plenty of rookies that supposedly could replace me. Whose test scores and simulator results make me wake up in a cold sweat every night. But who would have my imp-- my physical fitness regimen? Not quality, sure. But quantity! Twenty years, Admiral. They can hardly accumulate that many mandatory physical checkups in that time. That many ANNUAL checkups. That's right, they can't. Physically impossible.

And what about that time I saved Stryker and Touchdown from that nasty brushup with the Anptwerk Empire? I think pointing out that I was piloting a battle cruiser at the time and I had warped in to save them with three Starreach frigates, a galaxy class IV Techrion Warlord, and a small sortie of Hyperion star-fighters is being nitpicky, don't you? The fact of the matter was that i was first on the. Yes, by 2 seconds. But 2 seconds, 2 weeks, what does it matter. 2 seconds can get you killed in space.

Which brings me to my ne-- oh, KP duty for a week? That sounds reasonable.

Questionable Bios

Bios, as in the tiny biographies that magazines give contributors or blogs give their bloggers when you click 'About ...'

• When not completing his collection of WWII hand grenade pins, Steve can be found volunteering his time with 'Explode This!', an interactive, hands on pyrotechnics demonstration for kids 1-4.
• Fran takes her obsession with size-exclusion chromatography to pretty daring extremes, but not so much as to interfere with her career, a receptionist at Duluth's 16th highest grossing Century 21 office.
• Travis enjoys his school marching band, being co-sub-captain of the Junior co-ed cheer squad, and taking all comers in his travelling full-contact "Octagon of Terror" (touring most of Norther Florida's retirement communities),
• Marilyn's other hobby is sharpening steak knives, often not her own, and usually without anyone knowing.
• Stamford says his most prized isolated pure virus is a variant of E. Bola he has secured with  patent-pending isolation  methodologies. He also breeds ficuses.
• Besides being North America's foremost amateur expert in corn-husk and maize-silk based rope knotting, Kathleen is also Kansas's main importer of betel-nut and betel-nut accessories.
• "Trendsetters!" 1987 annual issue named Jain the "One To Watch In Stand Alone Vending Machine Supply and Service", he hasn't looked back since.
• Roger is the senior editor and owner of "Sticklers for Stickers", North America's premier magazine for sticker misprint enthusiasts since 1998.
• Fazz also teaches jazzerskating at her local home studio. Still accepting students for the 2011 term.
• You can buy Dr. Bioplanack's self-published book, "Taxonomy Ain't Just For Animals!' at Amazon.
• Janet also is an avid horse jumper, horse groomer, horsefeed custom mixologist, horse tack adjuster, and horse shoer. She loves to keep her work varied and cites Leonardo as a kindred spirit.

Other Filler Words According To Socio-Economic Class

 You know how there is a certain youngish girl, who, when describing another girl to girlfriend, will use the term 'oh, but she's really sweet'? That 'sweet' means essentially nothing, it's just a pablum stuffer of styrofoamian proportions. Here are some other Filler Words used by certain groups to describe peers about which there isn't much to say.


Accountants : "Diligent"

Arts Students : "Interesting"

Babysitters : "Loves children"

Commercial Airline Pilots : "Has put in the hours"

Doctors : "Bright"

Judges : "Tough, but fair"

Mechanics : "Ain't afraid to get his hands dirty"

Mob : "Good guy"

Painters : "Unique perspective"

Sea Captains : "Taut"

Science Students : "So smart"

Stunt Persons : "Tough"

Voltron Pilots : "Team player"

Rules of Engagement for the Squirt Battle Flotilla

I have a friend who likes to use military terms in polite company as if everyone grew up idolizing Robert Mitchum and reading Jane's Tactical manuals for fun. He suggested this topic. After write this up, I'm going to look up what ROE is, exactly, and find out why he was looking at this when he has neither kids nor a pool.

1. It's hot. 
2. Combatants are in swimming trunks or bathing suits or other such attire that is allowed to be spattered with chlorinated water.
3. Aggressors shall assault the defensive positions at no more than 45 degrees off the normal plane, or however far the squirt gun rotates.
4. All battle flotilla equipment is fully inflated by respective parties. No parental help. Chris is not allowed to use his electric air pump.
5. Sustained fire to the eyes or mouth shall be curtailed to no more than 3 seconds, unless targetted parties have breached such offenses at least as egregious, but not less than: wedgies, purple nurple, visibly relieving oneself in the pool.
6. Moving of the squirt vessels shall be facilitated by only the flutter kick. Egg-beater or frog-kick are verboten and punishable by dunking or being named Marco for the first three (3) games of Marco Polo.
7. Creating a 'fire ship' by pushing Mr. Peterson while he's sleeping on his floating chair into the stationary squirt platform is likewise verboten.
8. Good and bad guys must switch after every round. Robbie can't be Destro every single time.
9. Waterballoons must be thrown in a 'skyhook' or underhanded.
10. NO ROCKS.
11. Yes gravel counts as rocks.
12. Getting Jenny's oldest brother to play the "Kraken" on the squirt platform is not allowed. Those who do not immediately repel Jenny's brother as he tries to ruin the fun will have an entire lemon squirted in their eyes.
13. Slurpees are not 'mortars'.
14. Any attempt by Quint's dad on trying to sneakily teach us Naval History will be vigorously opposed by both sides.

Look Vs Is

Idea courtesy of a Mysteriouuus Straaanger with a surprising amount of Ben Gay in his medicine cabinet and a voracious appetite for Reader's Digest "Humor In Uniform".


What He Looks Like : A former Airborne Ranger for the 501st who operates a heavy machinery leasing company while doing heli-rescue work on his spare time.
What He Is : A man who's spent more time in his barcalounger than he has commuting, sleeping and eating. Combined

What He Looks Like : The in-house emotions counsellor at HP.
What He Is : Chronically distant technophobe who has a powerful fear of barber shops and small talk.

What She Looks Like : An army field nurse who has seen more action than a platoon of Foreign Legionnaires.
What She Is : A fundamentalist Mennonite who insists on affecting a Dutch accent.

What She Looks Like : State fair runner-up for "Best Baked Dish Using Rutabaga", 1982.
What She Is : Vice-President for a private para-military outfit that operates mostly in Tangiers.

What She Looks Like : Thirty four year Bogata timeshare tele-rep.
What She Is : Thirty three year Bogata timeshare tele-rep.

What He Looks Like : Primary field researcher for the E. Bola vaccine.
What He Is : Rabid collector of 'WKRP In Cincinnati' memorabilia, Dunkin Donuts Branch manager.

What She Looks Like :President, four years running, of the "Whalebone Supported 18th Century Women's Wear Appreciation Society", New Hampshire Chapter. Office manager of a Fortune 5000 company nearing retirement.
What She Is : Ethnogeographer specializing in cannibalistic cultures, South East Asia.

What He Looks Like : Intelligence agent, operating out of a rather ignored nation-state that sprouted from the former Soviet Bloc. For hire services include assassination, seduction of baronesses, counter-insurgency guerilla warfare, demolitions, light massage.
What He Is : Ostrich farmer.

Dude, Brad's Back In Town and He's Getting the Guys Together! Some Things You Might Need

• an ostrich feather, a small gibbon with a subdued gag reflex, fifty-two dollars in quarters.
• Portuguese bleach, fishing tackle, Moose.
• an Esperanto handbook , cinnamon, all outstanding warrants cleared.
• a recently cleaned gasoline tank, left-handed brass knuckles, an unusually large avocado.
• gift card for Big N' Tall, two blenders (one hand, one standing), an empty stomach.
• a zip cord from a WWII era paratrooper, a sony walkman (cassette) with a cheetah print velour cover, two bucks.
• a strong magnet, a switchblade comb, Diana (who used to be Kent).
• the libretto to Euridice, an incontinent Macy's clerk, a new car battery.
• Vaseline, the soundtrack to Quicksilver, a passable grasp of market Hungarian