Rantings of Stu

I remember a time when you would visit the Sconecutter in Orem late at night (which I often did back in the day when I worked graveyards) and there would be several questionable looking fellows working the drive thru. Thing was, these long-haired druggy looking freaks took the greatest of care in putting your order together. No finer sandwiches were ever built!

But now, thanks to a little economic downturn, more people are willing to accept the graveyard shift what with employment opportunities being limited. This has resulted in “cleaner” looking persons being hired to run the graveyard shift at the Sconecutter.

No sooner had the Sconecutter begun to hire these “cleaner” looking (albeit, I’ve noticed, far less professional) persons when the service started to go to pot (uh, as in bad, not as in the employees were smoking pot… that probably would have been a good thing).

An actual conversation that my wife had with the drive-thru operator on August 31, 2009 at approximately 22:00 hours (that’s 10 pm for all you weirdos out there) as best as I can recall:

Us: Hi, I’d like a ham, egg, and cheese platter on white with spicy fries and a Dr. Pepper.
Them: Ok, in a platter?
Us: Yes.
Them: Spicy or regular fries?
Us: Spicy.
Them: What drink?
Us: Dr. Pepper.
Them: Okay, what half sandwich did you want?

In all the years that my wife and I had eaten at the Sconecutter, we had never heard of any menu item called a “half sandwich”

Us: What?
Them: What half sandwich did you want?

This naturally confused my wife because she hadn’t ordered a “half sandwich”

Us: Uh… what half sandwich?
Them: You know, [rattles off some of the sandwich items from the menu].
Us: Oh. Ham, egg, and cheese.
Them: White or wheat bread?
Us: White.
Them: Anything else?
Us: A honey-butter scone on white.
Them: A cinnamon honey-butter scone?
Us: No, a honey-butter scone. Just honey butter.
Them: Okay, a cinnamon honey-butter scone. White or wheat?
Us: No, just honey butter.
Them: Okay, honey-butter scone. Wheat bread?
Us: White.
Them: Wheat?
Us: No, white.
Them: Okay, so I’ve got a ham, egg, and cheese half sandwich in a platter with spicy fries and a Dr. Pepper and one cinnamon honey-butter scone?
Us: *SIGH* Yes.

Turns out a half-sandwich, as you might have guessed, is a kid-sized sandwich, more like a third of a sandwich. So I ate that in about three bites and tried to enjoy my Dr. Pepper and fries while my wife ate her cinnamon honey-butter scone.

To the Sconecutter in Orem I say, “Bring back the questionable-looking sandwich makers! They always got my order right and always made my sandwich look like the picture!”

On August 27, 2009, I pondered, “What would happen if I really tweeted the way that Twitter haters say all tweeples tweet?” Following that, I announced my intention to, “…do it as an experiment starting tomorrow.”

At 22:28 that same night I stated, as a warning, “Alright my friends and followers, my tweeting-like-a-real-twerson(???) experiment begins tomorrow morning. It’s gonna get nasty!”

A cousin of mine and FaceBook friend, John Lisonbee, commented on my above statement with, “Nasty, or just twittery?” to which I replied, “Twisty maybe?”

The morning of August 28, 2009 the grand experiment began. My intention: cause the creation of a black hole solely through obnoxiously excessive tweeting. The tweets came fast and furious…

Note that all time stamps are Pacific time. All tweets were synched with my FaceBook account via the TweetSync application. The majority of tweets were sent through the TwitterFon application for the iPhone.

07:33 — Just crawling out of bed and getting dressed. I have a feeling this will be a good Friday… a Stu Friday. Let the experiment begin! (John Grant “liked” this on FaceBook)

07:42 — Best reason to amputate arm: I’m so SICK of putting stupid brace and sling on each morning! No doctors in UT county will do it though. (this tweet failed to sync with FaceBook)

07:42 — Brushing my teeth.

07:51 — Dropped my boys off at school early because they wanted school breakfast. I get here and oldest boy says, “I’m not going to have breakfast.”

08:04 — This “Stu Friday” is starting out well! Got a great tip on a job lead plus a callback to interview from a company I contacted yesterday.

08:35 — Researching the companies that have asked me to interview. You should know your potential employer as much as possible before interviewing.

08:41 — Thought about watering my lawn this morning, then decided not to.

08:44 — Taking a leak. Aahhh… what a sense of relief! Okay, done now. Flushing.

08:47 — One company I’m researching, if they hire me I know I’ll have tons of work to do right off the bat. Their website copy is horrible!

08:53 — Just learned if I tweet too fast, TweetSync (the FaceBook app) can’t keep up. It has failed to post one of my Twitter updates so far today.

09:01 — Job search has made me realize: If you ever get a job with a company you love and respect, and they love and respect you back, DON’T LEAVE!

At 09:08, Twitter user droach282 tweets, ” What…? http://bit.ly/g3UW0“

At 09:22, Twitter user “@leegientke sends me the message, “@stuthewise you need to track the number of followers before and after the experiment…

09:59 — @leegientke The experiment is more to see if I can cause a tear in the space-time continuum, but not a bad idea. 97 followers at the start.

10:00 — @leegientke I’m actually expecting to lose half my followers before 5 pm when they get sick of the constant tweeting

10:04 — just told @leegientke that I had 97 followers at start of today’s experiment. I’m a liar. I had 95, and I’ve already lost one. 47 to go!

10:06 — @droach282 Yeah, isn’t that the stupidest thing ever? It would be hilarious if you didn’t realize they are actually serious about it.

10:10 — Getting ready to have lunch with the mad entrepreneurial genius @jeremyhanks at Sconecutter. We’re gonna get sconed! (Stephen James Escobedo comments on this FaceBook status with, “Tell him I said hi!” which I do.

At 10:16, Twitter user @droach282 sends me the message, ” @stuthewise And the fact that their serious - and don’t define what is declarable as an emergency - is horrifying to me.”

At 10:20, Twitter user @leegientke sends me the message, ” @stuthewise LOL! It’s interesting, the more I tweet, the more people follow me… but then I typically tweet targeted info”

10:35 — Waiting at the Orem Sconecutter. (FaceBook comments on this status update are ” woah you’re the first person I know who has eaten @ the sconecutter” by Claye Stokes, ” Oh man, I eat there way too often!” by myself, and ” love the Turkey Advocado!!” by my sister Tracy Lisonbee Phillips.)

10:46 — Saw lady miss 3 opportunities to make left hand turn because she’s busy blabbing on the phone. Guy behind her got impatient and went around.

10:53 — Checked out the scars on the knee of @jeremyhanks and it is one sweet man scar!

11:35 — @jeremyhanks is blowing my mind!

11:52 — Lunch was great. Now I’m home with tons of stuff rumbling about my mind. Time to get some work done.

12:07 — Took a leak, washed up, and rinsed mouth. Time to watch episode of Dexter, then start a brainstorm session and put together a presentation. Stephen James Escobedo responds to this FaceBook status update with “Sweet”. I reply with “Hey, got your message to Jer for ya!”

12:15 — On Weeds, kid on debate team argues against electoral college with opening statement “G.W. Bush.” Response should’ve been “Abraham Lincoln.”

At 12:23, Twitter user @droach282 sends me the message, ” @stuthewise Oh, you’re kidding me…”

15:00 — Was about to tweet something completely pointless, but my cat snuck into my room, jumped on my bed, distracting me and making me forget.

15:06 — @droach282 Some Showtime shows like to insert regular right-wing bashes. Weeds keeps it relatively light though. Me no care politics.

15:15 — Things are looking good for my poker game tonight. 10 players make a full table. Sweet action!

15:36 — All this tweeting has drained the battery on my iPhone faster than normal. It’s on the charger so now I’m tweeting from my computer.

Right around this time, I notice that Twitter user and former coworker @JakeSabey has started following me. I follow him back.

15:40 — Hey new follower @JakeSabey you caught me in the middle of a Twitter experiment. I’m trying to make a black hole appear via mass tweets.

15:57 — Trying to get uninsulated garage cooled down for poker game tonight. Any tricks? Swamp cooler on opposite side of house. (Nathan D. Judd comments to this FaceBook status update with an interesting solution, which I will not duplicate here.)

16:00 — Playing Bejeweled Blitz on FaceBook.

16:09 — Okay, no more Bejeweled Blitz. Gotta save some of my luck for the poker game tonight! (Twitter user @EmperorSEO retweets this.)

16:12 — Chatting with high school friend on FaceBook whom I haven’t seen since 1992… when we both worked at McDonald’s together!

16:20 — BTW, use “whom” when the object (person) is being acted upon, “who” when the subject (person) is the one acting. Was my last tweet correct?

16:32 — Dang! Gotta take another leak! This is unusual for me. Hope I’m not pregnant or something. (My cousin Shauna Lyn Seguin responds to this FaceBook status with, “You probably are :)”)

17:22 — Hanging out at the University Mall with a buddy. Nice scenery! (Shauna Lyn Seguin comments on the FaceBook status with, “While your there…can you buy me a whole new wardrobe?” My wife Meadow Lisonbee follows it up with, “better than the scenery you get at home? ;)”)

18:01 — Done with the mall. Grabbing a bite to eat now. Maybe be some more “good scenery” at the restaurant.

18:15 — At the Subway. Line hasn’t moved in 5 minutes, and the guy behind me is literally insane! (On FaceBook, Becky Prestwich “likes” this status update. Nine minutes after the update hits FaceBook, Bradley Bowen comments, “I bet you are still in line :).”)

Around this time, using TwitterFon, I attempt to do a TweetPic update with a picture of the line at Subway. It doesn’t go through, but I fail to realize it until the next day.

At 18:47, Twitter user @AaronBV sends me the message, “@stuthewise tweet pics of insane guy?”

18:55 — @AaronBV Ah sorry man. Too late.

19:07 — First hand of the poker game, pocket jacks. Drawn out on by ace rag

20:06 — Kickin’ butt in HORSE tourney. All the hold ‘em players are confused

20:40 — Second time with pocket aces. This I flopped a set.

At 20:42, Twitter user @bryanphelps sends me the message, “@stuthewise I’ll come play poker with you if you continue tweeting your hands”

21:41 — In razz, 5th, 6th, and 7th street all paired up @$#!

21:41 — @bryanphelps As long as it’s okay by you that I lie about my hand

21:50 — In stud now, not getting any playable hands.

22:03 — Last hand of stud, finally won by catching a hidden boat on 7th street. (Meagen Ridley comments on this FaceBook status with, “Exactly how many posts have you made today?”)

22:09 — Hold ‘em, call all in preflop with AK spades. Raiser shows 8 3, rivers straight. Freakin’ bastie!

22:47 — Went on a bad run. Last hand in razz: all in with 8 high on 6th street, 7th street doesn’t improve, lost to 7 high.

22:48 — Out on the bubble too just add salt to the wound.

22:49 — I’m pissed about losing, so I’m taking a sip of Coke Vanilla and ending my Twitter experiment 10 minutes early. Look Ma, no black hole! (Twitter user @zubeme retweets this. My aunt-in-law Bekki Johnson comments on this FaceBook status with, “Stuart, you have too much time on your hands.”)

Final report:

For the day, I tweeted a total of 49 times which included seven @replies. Prior to that, I averaged 2.24 new tweets per day including @replies.

I started out with 95 followers and ended with 100. All but one of the new followers seemed to be fishing for followers using the, “If I follow someone, they will follow me back” theory. I only followed one of my new followers. The day after the experiment, number of followers dropped to 97. Two days after, it was down to 96.

No black hole was formed, and no tear in the space-time continuum resulted.

Conclusion

In order to cause a black hole to appear, one must tweet more than 49 times within a 24 hour period. My calculations suggest 503 tweets should do the trick.

Additionally, in the world of social media you are judged my your most recent update. Post wisely my friends!

Those who know me know I hate chain letters. And not just the ones that try and scam you out of money. I hate them ALL!

Usually, I just ignore them. But every once in a while, I’ll shoot a little something back. That was the case with this chain letter (which I actually got about a year ago). First, the chain letter, then my response.

How old is Grandpa or Grandma?

One evening a grandson was talking to his grandfather about current events. The grandson asked his grandfather what he thought about the shootings at schools, the computer age, and just things in general.

The Grandfather replied, “Well, let me think a minute, I was born before:

• television
• penicillin
• polio shots
• frozen foods
• Xerox
• contact lenses
• Frisbees and
• the pill

There were no:

• credit cards
• laser beams or
• ball-point pens

Man had not invented:

• pantyhose
• air conditioners
• dishwashers
• clothes dryers
• and the clothes were hung out to dry in the fresh air and
• man hadn’t yet walked on the moon

Your Grandmother and I got married first, and then lived together. Every family had a father and a mother.

Until I was 25, I called every man older than me, “Sir.” And after I turned 25, I still called policemen and every man with a title, “Sir.”

We were before gay rights, computer dating, dual careers, daycare centers, and group therapy. Our lives were governed by the Ten Commandments, good judgment, and common sense.

When mother or father said “No,” there was no further discussion.

We were taught to know the difference between right and wrong and to stand up and take responsibility for our actions. Serving your country was a privilege; living in this country was a bigger privilege. We thought fast food was what people ate during Lent.

Having a meaningful relationship meant getting along with your cousins. Draft dodgers were people who closed their front doors when the evening breeze started. Time-sharing meant time the family spent together in the evenings and weekends-not purchasing condominiums.

We never heard of FM radios, tape decks, CDs, electric typewriters, yogurt, or guys wearing earrings.

We listened to the Big Bands, Jack Benny, and the President’s speeches on our radios. And I don’t ever remember any kid blowing his brains out listening to Tommy Dorsey.

If you saw anything with “Made in Japan” on it, it was junk. Pizza Hut, McDonald’s, and instant coffee were unheard of.

We had 5 & 10-cent stores where you could actually buy things for 5 and 10 cents. Ice-cream cones, phone calls, rides on a streetcar, and a Pepsi were all a nickel. And if you didn’t want to splurge, you could spend your nickel on enough stamps to mail 1 letter and 2 postcards.

You could buy a new Chevy Coupe for $600, but who could afford one? Too bad, because gas was 11 cents a gallon.

In my day:

• grass was mowed
• coke was a cold drink
• pot was something your mother cooked in and
• rock music was your grandmother’s lullaby
• aids were helpers in the Principals office
• chip meant a piece of wood
• hardware was found in a hardware store and
• software wasn’t even a word

And we were the last generation to actually believe that a real lady needed a husband to have a baby.

No wonder people call us “old and confused” and say there is a generation gap. And how old do you think I am?

I bet you have this old man or woman in mind… you are in for a shock! Read on to see — pretty scary if you think about it

Are you ready ?????

This person would be only 59 years old!!!

And now, my response:

Well, ACTUALLY…

1. He thinks that serving in the military was a “privilege”? No, it’s an HONOR to serve.

2. Born in 1949, this guy completely missed WWII, which had its fair share of draft dodgers. But he was old enough to have had to register with selective services and participate in the draft for Vietnam. That means his teenage years were rife with draft dodgers, and he might have even been one himself. It’s OUR generation that doesn’t have draft dodgers because there hasn’t been a draft instilled since before we were born.

Now, as to the “born before…” claims.

3. Born before TV? Are you kidding me? Philo T. Farnsworth invented the first electric TV in 1928. The TV was old enough to drink by the time this guy was born.

4. Something else was also discovered in 1928 as well. It’s called Penicillin, 21 years before he was born.

5. Born before frozen food? That’s a bit ambiguous. If he’s talking “frozen dinners,” sure. But the first artificial refrigeration was demonstrated in 1748. Yep, that’s a full 200 years before this guy was born. By 1920, there were around 200 different models of refrigerators being sold to the home consumer.

6. The Frisbee Pie Company (their pans are traditionally considered the first frisbees) was founded in 1871. Frisbees had been around for 78 years before this guy was born.

7. The first patent issued for a ball-point pen was in 1888.

8. The air conditioner, like the refrigerator, was first invented in the 19th century.

9. The first dishwasher suitable for domestic use was created in 1937. By 1940, dishwashers with drying elements were introduced.

As to several other of this man’s claims:

10. There was no McDonald’s? What about the one that opened in San Bernadino in 1940 and introduced its “Speedee Service System” (i.e. fast food) in 1948?

11. The reason he hadn’t heard of yogurt must have been because he was horribly uneducated or lived in a cave. Yogurt dates back to nearly 2,500 BC. Modern-day yogurt as we know it today was introduced to the States in 1947 by Dannon.

12. Instant coffee was invented in 1901. The Nescafe brand of instant coffee was introduced in 1938.

13. According to the Consumer Price Index, a nickel in 1949 is 43 cents in today’s money. You can still get a Pepsi for that or make a call from a pay phone.

So essentially this gentleman, like all old folks, likes to tell fantastical stories that aren’t true in order to try and impress his grandson. My grandfather walked 10 miles, uphill both ways, and through 10 feet of snow to get to and from school each day. Of course, my grandfather was born in 1910, so its probably true.

And there is one other thing that hasn’t changed between his generation and mine. Corporations are still evil. FM radio was invented in the 1930’s and by 1941, there were 50 FM radio stations. But the 59-year old man in the above story was probably telling the truth about having never heard of it.

RCA tied up the inventor of FM radio, Edwin Armstrong, in court for so long — sapping all his strength, desire, and finances — the man eventually killed himself in 1954.

After Edwin died, FM radio’s popularity soared. RCA suddenly had a change of heart what with its inventor dead and, with no one to pay royalties to, began investing heavily in its research and development. RCA posted record profits in 1955.

Every year we go through the torture of “springing forward” in order to… what? Partake in congress’ brilliant energy savings plan? Have more time to partake in leisurely activities? Tell Benjamin Franklin, “Ha! The joke’s on you!”

All I know is that Arizona, Hawaii, and the Hopi Nation are all smarter than the rest of the U.S.

During the first couple of months that we switched to daylight savings time, I ranted about it via Twitter. Here is a replay of my hateful tweets for those of you that missed them (all time stamps are MDT):

Off to bed. What the–?! It’s after midnight? Damn you daylight savings! Damn you to hell!
00:30 March 9

Dear daylight savings, may Charon kick you out of his ferry into the River Styx on your way to Hades!
09:46 March 12

After seeing your reign of terror on Earth, Hades would never allow you into his abode anyway #daylightsavings
09:50 March 12

Friday the 13th, you ain’t got nothing on #daylightsavings
10:32 March 13

#DaylightSavings may you reach sheol long before I, that I may enjoy at least part of my mortal life without you.
10:54 March 16

If #daylightsavings looks up and sees the face of Osirus, it will know it has arrived in its proper place.
09:30 March 17

If #daylightsavings were to arrive in Gre’Thor today, it would not be soon enough. #klingonafterlife
09:41 March 18

Kronos finds no honor in waking the dead an hour early! The Fields of Elysium you shall never see #daylightsavings
09:44 March 19

If #daylightsavings somehow found itself in the great halls of Valhalla, Odin would think that Ragnarök was upon him and death near.
10:09 March 20

Why is it snowing?! I blame you #daylightsavings
09:39 March 23

The sins of #daylightsavings are so great, it should be doomed to spend eternity in Naraka. But even Yama could not tolerate it for long.
10:02 March 24

Just realized all my bashing of #daylightsavings is probably what’s causing me to sleep in so much. #thesecret
09:49 March 25

Morning cloud cover+snow+fog=you should drive with your lights on. Thanks #daylightsavings for tricking drivers into not turning on lights!
09:33 March 26

Just learned that Wal-Mart is spending $40 million to develop and promote their online presence. Screw you #daylightsavings!
09:59 March 27

At one point, my sister told me that she doubted daylight savings had anything to do with the fact that it was snowing in the middle of March. I refuted that idea, and pointed her to this brilliant observation that showed daylight savings was also responsible for causing several years of drought:

Hmm… I wonder. Is there any way we can blame daylight savings for global warming? Are you kidding? Daylight savings can be blamed for EVERYTHING!

So it has been said, so shall it be done.

You know what I’m talking about. The Tonight Show skit where Jay Leno walks the streets asking people simple questions to showcase the stupidity of seemingly regular folks?

There’s no way anybody anywhere can be that stupid, right? I mean, either these people are faking stupidity just so they can have their 15 seconds of fame (because obviously Jay isn’t going to show anyone getting the answers right) or they are simply having a brain fart… question after question after question.

Now imagine that you rent a car and are quoted a rate of $0.09 per mile. Great rate! You travel 100 miles expecting to be charged $9.00. But then you get the bill and it’s instead $900.00. So you call in the manager and ask the manager why you’re being charged $9 per mile instead of $0.09. The manager looks at you incredulously and says, “What’s the problem? Nine cents times 100 miles equals nine hundred dollars!”

Would never happen, right? Nobody’s stupid enough to make a 100-fold misquote on the rental rate, right?

But then I ran into a recording of a support call to Verizon Wireless regarding a billing error.

Let me give you a quick background on it. George (the one calling to complain) was traveling to Canada and wanted to know what rate he was going to be charged. He was quoted a price of “point zero zero two cents per kilobyte.” That is to say 0.002¢ or $0.00002. Astonished at the incredibly low rate, George asked the call rep to confirm that it was indeed “point zero zero two cents per kilobyte.” Upon confirmation, George asked the rep to make note of the quoted rate on his account.

Then the bill comes and George discovers that instead of being charged $0.00002 per kilobyte, he was charged $0.002 — 100 times the quoted rate. Shouldn’t be a problem getting it straightened out, being that there are notes on his account specifically stating that he was quoted a rate of $0.00002 per kilobyte. Well, not so easy. Listen to the call.

Okay, so after listening to the call, you might think, “No Stu. People like that are few and far between.”

Hold on now! Go back to that page and start reading the comments. Here are a few of my favorites:

Gee, I don’t know sprint38. Does the soda I buy out of the vending machine cost me a half dollar, or half OF a dollar? I can’t figure it out!

Then you have statman here who not only sucks at math, but also doesn’t understand language very well:

But koals28 takes the cake:

Um… what’s the metric system got to with any of this? And decimal points prove that going backwards is cents? Well koals28, you must be a decimal point going forward, because you don’t make any cents, er… sense.

You think it can’t get worse than that? Well, how about if you come out and say that he is actually right?

Gee, I don’t know song… uh, songsong. If you saw something that said it was $35, wouldn’t you expect to pay what it says? Same goes if it says 0.99 cents (which is $0.0099). I would expect to pay a penny… I’ll let the cashier keep the change.

The thing that makes this even sadder is that we deal with fractions of a cent every time we fill up our gas tanks. I have yet to see a gas station that doesn’t charge $X.XX9 per gallon, or $0.009 extra per gallon. I’ve never heard anybody express confusion over that!

So the point of this whole story is: Yes, there really are people that stupid out there.

But, there are intelligent people as well:

Cheer up nerdish! You’re probably the smartest guy in the building!

Office antics are always great fun. But can they ever go too far?

I don’t know about that. But I do know they can definitely be taken advantage of to get rid of certain coworkers that you don’t much care for.

One common office antic that is quite universal is to mess with somebody’s workstation when they leave it unattended and unlocked. If you know time is short, then you are probably limited to accessing their email or instant messenger software to send funny messages or something else equally useless.

If you have plenty of time, a classic is to take a screenshot of their desktop, make it the wallpaper, then hide the taskbar and desktop icons. When the unsuspecting victim returns, their computer will appear to have locked up on them.

OR…

You send an instant message to yourself, walk back to your own workstation to respond, and back and forth having a conversation with the victim — or so it appears:

By taking a screenshot of the threats on your life, you can send the image to your boss, thereby getting him or her fired. If you really want to get crazy, you can call the cops. Threatening another person’s life is against the law!

One thing you must be certain of, however, is to not make the mistake I made and talk like yourself when you are pretending to be the intended victim. Also, make sure that your boss values you more than the coworker you’re trying to get rid of. Otherwise you’ll end up like me, in the boss’ doghouse — or worse, fired yourself!

Extensive kissing up prior to conducting the framing of your coworker is recommended. But that’s a whole other post.

This is my very first attempt at creating the world’s greatest work of art — the MySpace Survey! Seriously now. What would we ever do without them? Me? I might actually get some work done.

Okay… I figure these viral surveys were at one time intended to extract surprisingly unusual information from other people, thereby (in theory) allowing you to get to know your MySpace “friends” better.

Unfortunately, somewhere along the way MySpace surveys turned into some kind of crazed, excessively long, psychotic questionnaires;  most of them containing a series of utterly unrelated questions — the answers to which don’t serve the original spirit of the MySpace survey.

I once heard that, “One person CAN make a difference!” So I’m here to bring the MySpace survey back to its original (albeit probably less glorious) honor! I like to call it…

The MySpace Stuvey

Get it? It’s a Stu survey. Stuvey. Survey by Stu. Ahh… whatever. Just take the dang thing!

Just remember the all-important Stuvey rules:

• You must answer all questions HONESTLY! I don’t care if it will ruin every relationship you’ve ever had and result in your incarceration. Speak the truth you psychos!
• You must send the survey to the person who sent it to you, then broadcast it to EVERYBODY on your friends list. Especially the ones who will forever hate you after seeing your answers.
• If you think someone won’t respond, you must leave some kind of threat in order to encourage them to respond. Look, nobody escapes a Stuvey. Understand?
• If you can think of a question that a) is incredibly naughty b) potentially embarrassing c) contains innuendo that can easily be mistaken as sexual explicit and/or d) is completely unrelated to the rest of the questions, then you must add it to the Stuvey before sending it along.

Okay, that’s pretty much it. Now that you’ve lost interest, let’s get started shall we?

If you had a billion dollars, what would your first $1 million+ purchase be?
Man, a billion dollars would barely pay for the yacht I want. So I guess I’d have to settle for a time machine that will allow me to go back and attend a certain event, the name of which I shall never mention.

If you could go back in time and attend any event that ever happened, what event would you choose and why?
Gabby and Joel’s wedding. I’ll never say why, but it may or may not involve having a threesome with a couple of the attendees. Weddings are great places to pickup people! At least, that’s what Hollywood tells me. I would then send a letter to my past self instructing him to place very large bets on certain sports events, thereby making myself a billionaire allowing me to build a time machine and go back in time to attend the event discussed in the previous question… which event I shall never reveal.

If you could create a new area of study for people to major in during college, what would you call it and what would it be about?
The area of study would be called “Stuism” and would be about the philosophies of Stu. Since Stu is always right, study of Stuism would be a required course, thus making the world a better place for all!

Are you able to admit that you are sometimes wrong?
Are you kidding? I’m wrong all the time! If people were to follow my teachings, it would probably destroy the world.

Vegetarianism. Good or bad?
I am 100% against anything that harms poor defenseless animals. We should all become vegetarians and stop harming our fellow citizens of the Earth! Lions should also stop eating zebras.

Dog or cat?
Hmm… cat tastes better if you prepare it right, but there’s usually more meat on a dog.

What is your most secret sexual fantasy?
It’s very complex. Far too much so to tell you about it here. How’s that for an excuse to get out of answering a Stuvey question, huh? Ha!

If you could be any superhero, who would it be and why?
Mr. Fantastic of the Fantastic Four so I could fulfill my innermost sexual fantasy by being with multiple women at the same time, all of whom are in different rooms all over the Baxter Building.

Take your number 1, divide by your number 3, resolve the square root thereof, and multiply by the natural logarithm. Would you ever make out with that person?
Umm… yes? Wait, no. Well, maybe. Is that person Mandy Moore? Where’s the “resolve” button on my calculator?!

There you have it folks. My apologies that it wasn’t 50 times longer like your standard MySpace survey. And for those of you thinking about not taking the first ever MySpace Stuvey yourself, the last person who refused to do so died in a horrible accident when the plane they were traveling on exploded, causing them to fall 10,000 feet through the air — on fire the entire way down — landing in the ocean to put out the flame, causing them to think that they would be saved, only to be chopped into a million pieces by a huge cargo boat’s propeller and eaten by jellyfish.

If you don’t want to be eaten by jellyfish, you’d better take the Stuvey!

I’ve spent the last week or so trying to find a second car to purchase for my family. In that time, I’ve considered several dozen and test driven about half a dozen. Trying to squeeze car shopping in between work and other social responsibilities (like doing the big nasty) sure has been a hassle, but I finally got it done.

Here’s how it went down. My budget was $5,000 max, so I tried to find cars for around $3,000.

The first car I attempted to test drive was a Volvo S70 that looked like it was in really great shape. It was up for auction on eBay and looked like it was going to go for around $3,000.

So I emailed the seller. Here was his response:

The car is over at my office on 39th south and 7th east in SLC (that’s Salt Lake City for you non-Utahns).

The car has a ton of watchers and I am anticipating it going over 3500.00, are you prepared to buy it today in that price range if the car runs and drives well?

I don’t want to have you drive from Orem thinking you will win it at 2200 or something silly like that.

Actually, I was hoping that the car had a special button that would turn the car into a mythical white unicorn that spewed Skittles candies from his magical horn according to my whim. For that, I’d pay $3,500. But to win the car for $2,200 even though bidding at that moment had already reached $2,550 and had seven hours to go? Nah, nothing silly like that.

Of course, he had no way of knowing that I was not only an eBay PowerSeller veteran that had sold over 10,000 items but also a former eBay employee who WROTE A FREAKIN’ BOOK on how to make money on eBay. So I’ll forgive him for thinking I’m silly, have no knowledge of how an auction works,  and incredibly crappy at math.

2550 + 7 hours left in the auction  =  2200 ending price… right?

So I emailed him a second time, asking him to call me so I could give it a test drive. I then got in my car to make the 40 minute drive to the car’s location. I get there, and the car is nowhere in sight. I spend about two hours in Salt Lake checking out cars at dealers and eating lunch. Interestingly, there were a lot of beggars hanging out at the Wendy’s where I ate. The seller never called me, so I go home.

The auction ends for about $3,250. Too bad. If the seller would have just met me for a test drive, he would have gotten a few hundred more for it.

The first car I ended up actually doing a test drive on was a 1997 Mitsubishi Galant with about 150,000 miles on it.

The seller was a high school kid who had done some good work on it in his auto shop class. Who knew that a teenaged kid selling his car would be more reliable than an adult?

Well, the car needed a new AC compressor and the speedometer cable had been cut, so the 150,000 miles was really just a guess since the odometer wasn’t working without a good speedo cable.

It ran great, and I almost bought it, but thought I’d better mull it over and work the needed repairs into the budget before making a decision. He was asking $2,800 and I planned to offer around $2,300. The interesting thing about this car was that I communicated with the seller entirely through text messaging until I met him. Furthermore, unlike a certain other seller, he actually responded. Crazy huh?

Next test drive was a 1997 BMW 528i with 170,000 miles on it. I was really excited about this one. He was asking $5,300 and had already turned down an offer for $4,800, so I withdrew $5,000 cash from my bank expecting to buy the car.

I drove it and it felt like I was driving a tank, the interior had some issues, and the headlights looked like they had cataracts, but otherwise it seemed okay. But I just didn’t get a good feeling about it. The seller texted me the next day to say he would accept $4,500. I told him I’d think about it. My main worry was repairs. They aren’t cheap on a BMW, and $4,500 wouldn’t leave much breathing room.

The coolest part, though, was that I detected a bit of an accent in the seller, so I asked him if he was a foreigner. He told me that he was from Albania.

“Cool,” I said. “So is the car from there?” wondering if he originally bought it in Albania and brought it over.

“No,” the seller responds, “it’s from Germany.”

“So you brought it over from Germany?”

“No, that’s where it was manufactured.”

“Right, but did you buy it there and ship it to the states?”

The answer was no, that it had been purchased and driven in the states only. The misunderstanding was interesting though. I told him, “Thanks. I’ll mull it over.”

Having never heard the term “mull it over,” and based on the look he gave me, I think he thought I was threatening to kill the rabito in his cabeza.

The next day, I took work off early so I could run back up to Salt Lake and check out a couple minivans and a supercharged Buick Regal. The vans, though they looked nice in their online ads, were in pretty bad shape. The first one was a blue 2000 Sienna with 148,000 miles. Two door handles were broken, the passenger window motor didn’t work, a cup holder was missing, a speaker was falling out, and the carpet was all crusty. This minivan had clearly been well used and abused by many children and maybe even a few overly frisky midgets.

The red 1999 Sienna with nearly 190,000 miles from the same dealer was in better shape, but had a couple issues. And again, I just wasn’t feeling good about it. The salesman was awesome though, and offered to fix everything up before selling it to us. The place was called Smith Family Motors, and I think I might go there again someday. Even though I didn’t buy from them, I recommend you check them out.

So I drove a little further north to another dealer to check out the car that I was really interested in, a 1998 Buick Regal. It had 190,000 miles on it, but for $2,800 I figured if I got even one year’s use out of it, I’d be happy.

The interior was awesome, nearly perfect for such an old car, and the engine ran about as well as one could expect to at nearly 200k miles. It drove like an old car, but it was the first time I had a really good feeling about any of the cars I drove. Maybe it was just the well-worn leather seats though.

The car sported a supercharged V6, leather interior, and every bell and whistle you could imagine — not the least of which was, and I swear to you that this is true, a button that turned the car into a magical Skittles spewing unicorn! I was ready to buy it on the spot.

But then my wife gave me the “I want a minivan,” look, so I told the salesman I’d think about it.

We drove back to Orem and hit Ken Garff Honda. We accidentally went next door to the Ken Garff Porsche dealer and went to turn around when a salesman grabbed us. We told him we were looking for a Sienna from the Honda dealer. So he walked to the Honda dealer, grabbed the van, and brought it over.

It was a 2000 Sienna, nearly identical to the one we test drove earlier except it had all its parts, had fewer miles on it, and everything worked. The engine seemed to be in good shape, it drove well, had a leather interior and was clean. You could tell it was taken care of. The van was listed at $4,877 and would cost nearly $6,000 out the door with taxes and registration.

That’s when I said, “Oops, I should have told you this when I first got here, but I’ve only got five grand on me, so that needs to be the out-the-door price.”

We haggled for a bit, but there really wasn’t any wiggle room on my part so the salesman, after pretending to talk to his manager about it a few times, finally caved and gave us the requested price.

That made my wife happy, which I guess is the important part. And here is my proud wife in front of her “new” 2000 Toyota Sienna:

If you’re ever in the market for a Porsche, I highly recommend talking to Edgar at Ken Garff Porsche in Orem. He was a great guy to work with and treated us well. And you know that Ken Garff “backs up every car they sell.” Our van came with a 3-month 3,000 mile warranty on the engine.

It needs new tires with winter coming up, and I’ll be replacing the transmission fluid and filter which will run us about $500 for both. But $5,000 is roughly what I pay each year on the monthly payments for my other car. So if I get two years out of this van, I think I’ll be pleased.

No, it doesn’t turn into a magical candy spewing unicorn, but if you stroke its horn for awhile you get a really good feeling deep down inside.

So… I stopped by the Macey’s on my way home from work today to pick up a bottle of some sweet Pace Picante Sauce. It was on sale for about a third off. Wow! Could there possibly be a better deal to be had anywhere in the universe? I think not!

Anyway, let’s get to the conversation part shall we?

I hit the express lane. Ten items or less, and I’m second in line. I’ll be out of there in no time! Unfortunately for me, the older gentleman ahead of me was using an archaic payment method. I think they call it “writing a check”?

Okay okay… I know. The conversation.

Okay, so the gentleman ahead of me takes a look at me and says, “Too much basketball?” and pointed at my slung-up arm.

“Too much motorcycling,” I respond.

I was about to continue the conversation when the man’s wife walks up and informs the man that he wrote his check out for the wrong amount. So he tears up his check and starts anew.

Now, this is where things get interesting. After the man finishes writing his new check and hands it to the amazingly hot cashier (yes, as you’ll find later on, the hotness of the cashier is an important factor to the story) he turns to me and says, “You know, six years ago they found a tumor in my colon that was this big,” and he holds his hands up to express a tumor that is roughly the size of an orange.

Okay. Now for some people, that might be a perfectly normal thing to say to a complete stranger that you meet in the checkout lane of the local grocery store. But for me, not so much.

My first thought was to respond with, “Wow, that is really gross!”

I managed to get out, “Wow…” before catching myself and realizing the rest probably isn’t very socially acceptable. Yeah, talking about your gigantic, cancerous, stage three colonic tumor is okay. Saying that talking about your gigantic, cancerous, stage three colonic tumor is gross is a bit inappropriate; or so says Miss Manners.

A bit taken aback, I’m not sure how to respond, so I say, “You know, I write for a living and I’ve written a lot about cancer treatments. It’s amazing what they can do these days.”

So after I learn that after 6 months of chemo treatments — no radiotherapy! — the tumor disappeared, the cashier has rung up my picante sauce and, looking quite apologetic for interrupting our stimulating discussion about cancer in the 7th planet from the Sun (Uranus… get it? Hahaha! It never gets old!), tells me I owe her $2.05. I hand my cash over.

The man then says he’s gotta go and bids farewell. Of all the places to get tongue tied! I wasn’t sure what to say. I almost said, “Good luck!”

Then, realizing that would be stupid (we’re in Orem Utah, not an unregulated whore house in Reno), I stammer out, “Have a good one!”

I turn to the amazingly hot cashier, who I would normally have been quite charming with, and simply thank her for allowing me the pleasure of spending my money

The end.