Down On Ferry Farm

For some reason, the other day I got to thinking about my sexual conquests. There seemed to be a common thread through most of them and that was this: I was the best sex they ever had. Here I'll try to explain: MM - While she never came out and said 'best' she did say that we had 'really good' sex. She was the kind of lover who seemed to be hard to please. In the end, all she really wanted from me was the sex. It was tough when it ended because we still worked together. She eventually started dating another guy -- a TOTAL douchebag -- and didn't care that she flaunted this in front of me. I'm not the only one who thought this guy was a jerk but I'm not sure if people were saying that just to appease me. DubDub - As mentioned before, I could write a whole book on this woman. She is definitely the best sex I've had and mentioned (early on in our relationship) that I was her best. If it wasn't for the whole 'standing me up' situation -- whic

Whatever you call them – gyros, grinders, subs, po’ boy, hero, or hoagie – I’m here to talk about them. This is not a “top 5 list”, simply a discussion of the type of sandwich by which I will be referring to as a “sub”. Subway – these guys have built their reputation on subs. If you’ve ever been to their place, the walls are plastered with early blueprints for the New York Subway system. Kind of a play on words. The basic premise here is that you tell them how long a sub you want (6 inch or foot long), what kind of bread you want, the type of cheese (if any), whether or not you want it toasted and then the type of “fixin’s” you want. A little of this and a little of that and pretty soon your sub is done. They wrap a piece of paper around it, shove it in a clear-plastic bag and it’s all yours. Generally speaking, Subway makes a good sub. By default I don’t get my subs toasted because I think their bread is good. If anything, there’s probably too MUCH bread. The meat is always tasty and

Sunday night I really wanted to get some sleep so I went to bed around 9:45pm. At 10:30pm my electricity cut off and I did my usual – ponder all the ways in which I use electricity. I woke up to the sound of my UPS’s chirping like two heavyweight crickets. Luckily, the outage only lasted about half an hour and I fell right back to sleep. Monday evening I return home from work and it feels a little warm in the house. I take a quick look around just to make sure I have electricity – I do. I then go through the usual steps of checking to make sure my air conditioning is working: I check the breaker panel and I check the outside circuit. Everything seems okay. I then go to the thermostat and it’s not even on. It’s a nice digital, touch-screen thermostat with a glowing green face… usually. This day it was a non-functioning piece of plastic. Here’s the timeline (in 24-hour time… not years): - 1730: I make the call to the company that installed the unit originally. They’ll send someone and “h

Having just stayed in a hotel for a week on business, I just wanted to put down some random thoughts about it: Hotels have to be the most inefficient places on the planet. People staying there take showers that are too long, leave TV’s on where they would not at home and run the air conditioning constantly. Do parents give up custody of their children when they check into a hotel? As mentioned, I was there on business and I cannot tell you how unprofessional it was to have teens and younger children running and screaming in the hallway outside our conference room. When asked to leave they become belligerent brats. “Where are your parents?” I asked. “I don’t know” is the answer I got. “Go find them” I said. “If they want us, they can come find us” was the crappy response I got. I picked up the phone and loudly asked for security. They left. Maybe the question should be “when did parents lose control?” It seems to me that the later it got in the week, the runnier the eggs were for breakf