Saturday, 25 April 2009

Professor Jarhead

In the last episode I mentioned a motivational story about a Professor putting his balls in a jar, I couldn't remember the actual story but assumed you would just Google it. Apparently that's too much effort, it's not enough that I tell you about these wonderful things that go on in the world it seems I have to wipe your arse too. Sadly I'm out of banana leaves.

So, here's the full story, perhaps you'd like me to come round and read it to you?


A Professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

So the Professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The Professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous "yes."

The Professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the space between the grains of sand.

"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things--your family, your children, your health, your friends, and your favorite passions - things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, and your car. The sand is everything else -the small stuff.

"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18.

There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. "Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The Professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend."


The important thing is not to put the sand in the jar first, look after the important things - your balls.

The reality, of course, is if the professor puts off fixing the disposal again he'll be wearing the jar for a hat. Hence Professor Jarhead.

I thank you.


Friday, 24 April 2009

Idiot Life Management Style

This isn't the same as Lifestyle Management for Idiots, that's a self-help book, this is a self-eHelp virtual webinar.

Here are some usefull tools to help manage your life, finances, holidays, concubines etc.

Write a list of all the things you own, write a list of all things want. Voila, now get the fuck on with it.

Take the number of years left to retirement, multiply by gross annual salary, subtract your remaining mortgage payments net of interest, then shove your thumb up your arse and whistle Dixie. That's how the big boy's do it.

Write a list of all the countries in the world, cross out the ones you've been to, work down the list alphabetically, it's not rocket science. Here's a tip, Bhutan has the same landscapes as Switzerland so you don't need to see both.

Always refer to extra-biblical activities as "Concubine Time", in most countries there isn't really a legal definition of Concubine so it really is a free ride.

You know that thing about the golf balls and gravel and sand in the big jar; "is it full yet?", try to remember that one, it's quite poignant.

I think the sand is all those crappy email "jokes" and blogs you read, it fills all the space. Could be wrong though, maybe the jar is your head and the idea is to keep putting crap in it, it'll never get full and occasionally something makes sense.

That's probably the best you can hope for at this stage.

Well that concludes this session. Live damnit! Live! *high fives*

I like helping people, it makes me feel like I'm giving something back.


Wednesday, 22 April 2009

The Low Down

Ok sonny boy, don't crack wise with me, 'cos I've got the low down on you, see?

I think it comes from "The Low Down and Dirty Truth", which is a form of sensationalist journalism practised in the fifties when Clark Kent and Jimmy what's-his-name were still closet monkey-spankers. "Monkey-spanker" works on two levels, like cockney rhyming slang for "Merchant" meaning Merchant Banker = Wanker. Which is also what the term directly implies in American slang, see how much we have in common? (can you edit out a tone of desperation? please?)

Sensationalist journalism died in the seventies with the rise of news agencies. Today, the majority of "journos" just copy and paste the news agency releases into their rags and piss off to the pub. That's my opinion as an ignorant layman. No, ignorant layabout. No, wannabee journo (hah haaa!)

Ok, there are sensationalists a few left, but like most of us, most journalists just want to do their job, keep their job, and piss off to the pub. Actually, it was always like that, there is a popular movie stereotype of a Bloodhound battling The System, but really - name one. Apart from Deep Throat.

It's really difficult making a link from Deep Throat, where can I go from there? Deep Pockets? Sore Throat? Imagine if you got warts in your throat from oral sex, is that even possible? Probably not if you were doing it to a woman, they don't give anything away.

I wonder if there is medical precedent, I suppose I could Google it and paste a link here, but why research when you can publish idle speculation? or Idol Speculation. Is there a God of oral wart infections? If so, what kind of fucked up religion is that? And what happened to Billy Idol? Last I heard he binned his Harley on Sunset Boulevard and broke every bone in his ego, I think he's still alive but is he singing? Why wasn't he wearing a helmet? Why wasn't he in Sigue Sigue Sputnik? Did he have a spat with Tony James? It's easy to speculate, yes Generation X broke up but why?

I'm angry now, I get really wound up at times like this. Why aren't people queuing up outside parliament to find out where Siouxie and the Banshees went? (I know they went to Whitby but that's not the point) Why should I waste my time sorting plastic fucking coke bottles from newspapers to put in different coloured bins when the government obviously doesn't give a flying fug about the issues I care about? I've abstained from several elections (as is my right under a democratic system) and what am I getting in return? Diddly!

I give up. I'm not even going to abstain anymore, I'm going to move abroad and get disenfranchised. Ok, I've already done that but that doesn't give you free reign to devalue the sentiment (read it again I'll wait). Yes, yes, patronising, I'll be that before you can call me a stripey Leopard. And afterwards.

I can't go on like this, I'm going to bed, I'm sorry but I'm just too annoyed about The (whole) Damned thing now. Again Whitby, it's the Dracula thing isn't it?

I'll tell you what's really fucking ironic, I moved to Brussels and got disenfranchised (It means I don't have a vote, but check the spelling). Brussels!? I see "those people" every day, I live amongst them, we go to the same bars, but I don't vote for them, or any national government, nor local authority, I don't know how to anymore. I'm desperately trying to learn French to get back in the system.

Do you know why there is a 90% turnout for European Parliament Elections in Belgium? Because registration is optional but once you register they fine you 50 euro if you don't vote. There are ten people on the electoral register, one is dead, the other nine are Members of European Parliament.

Democracy my arse. I found out today that a standard Bacardi-and-Diet-Coke has the same amount of calories as an apple, 53. Why do they publish this information? What if a kick in the bollocks had the same motivational effect as a kiss?

I suppose it depends what you want to get done. Like cause and effect; if you buy me a drink I'll kiss you, if give me an apple you'll get a less favourable response.