So Son has been complaining of gastronomic and intestinal distress lately. Because it comes and goes pretty quickly, I've been chalking it up to either gas, which is evident every day, or chronic hypochondria.
Two days ago, Son went to the school nurse complaining of said pain, so GPop picked him up from school and took him over to our neighbors' house to play with Rusty (50% of human population in the house) and Rex (100% of canine population in house). Rusty is a 50-ish big kid with lots of cool toys.
Anyway, by the time I got home, Son was perfectly fine. In the interest of preventive care, we took him to the doctor yesterday for a consultation about this issue. As the doctor asked probing questions, she started to smile more and more.
"You're not eating enough fiber. Eat more fruits and vegetables, and cut back on the cheese."
You would have thought the world was coming to an end.
I work for a large company that sells intangible products revolving around the almighty dollar. (Or, for our overseas departments, the almighty Euro or almighty Real.) Our corporate intranet site has an innovation collection area where any employee can suggest some cool idea. Someone behind the page reads the ideas, has a few laughs, and escalates ones that may be profitable.
I decided to submit an idea to create a video game that would, to some degree, model the real life experience of our customers, with all of the excitement and pizazz of actuarial tables. Hey, it would reach the marketer's dream segment of 18-29 year olds, or at least those 18-29 year olds that were concerned about their financial futures.
Well, just to be safe, I checked the archive to see if there was any other idea that might be similar. I'll give you three guesses.
Yeah. Someone else submitted the same idea using almost exactly the same words that I would have used, and the person submitted it over six months ago.
My innovation machine just shut down for the day.
So, you're driving to some new location in your new hot ride, and you realize you have no idea where you are. Of course, your new car has heated seats, a sunroof, and (best of all) a satellite navigation system!
"Turn left in one mile. Turn left in one half mile. Turn left in 500 feet. Turn left now. (pause) Turn left in one half mile."
OK, that's totally cool, right? Right?
Yeah, if you lived in caveman times.
What you want is the new satellite navigation systems with CELEBRITY VOICES.
(Gilbert Gottfried) "Turn left RIGHT NOW, or else I'll be FORCED TO WHINE LIKE THIS."
(William Shatner) "Turn... left... in 500.... yards."
(Dick Cheney) "Turn right, and go f#(& yourself."
I'd buy that for a dollar.
GDad: What's so funny?
GDad: What are you laughing abou- Oh my god, that reeks!
Son: Ha ha ha ha ha ha!
GDad: I'm getting you some Gas-X.
Son: What's that?
GDad: It makes your gas go away.
GDad: What's the matter?
Son: I like farting.
GDad: I'm shutting off your alarm clock. You have a doctor appointment tomorrow, so you don't have to get up quite so early.
Son: What time do I have to get up?
GDad: About 7:30.
GDad: [louder] 7:30.
Son: Am I confusing you?
Son: Can I have a cell phone?
Son: Can I have this old phone if you reactivate it?
Son: I saw a cell phone on TV. Can I have one?
Son: I promise I wouldn't lose it or break it.
GDad: You just lost your lunch box yesterday. How exactly would a cell phone be different?
Son: It just would be. I promise I wouldn't lose it.
GDad: Uh huh. Why don't we see what the school rules are. [a few minutes and a web connection later] It looks like the school won't let you have a cell phone. Why do you need one, then?
Son: I just want one. What if I want to call <name>?
GDad: Then you pick up the phone THAT WE ALREADY PUT IN YOUR ROOM and call <name>.
Son: What if I'm too tired to get out of bed, and I don't want to walk to my desk?
GDad: Then you're too tired to talk.
Son: Can I have a cell phone?
Son: [marches into room] Dad, I can't sleep.
GDad: [awaking from bizarre dream] Well, that successfully makes two of us. What's wrong?
Son: I don't know. I can't sleep.
GDad: OK, Let's go in your room and see what's up. [room is too hot] I'll just take off five of your blankets and leave you with the other two.
Son: [testily] OK.
GDad: I'm going back to bed.
GPop: Was he OK?
GDad: Yes. I'm going back to sleep.
[15 minutes later]
Son: Dad, I'm wide awake now.
GDad: OK. Let's go downstairs and put in a Simpsons DVD. That usually puts you to sleep. [Son marches out]
GPop: [sleepily] Give him a glass of warm milk.
GDad: [incredulously] What?
GPop: Give him a glass of warm milk.
GDad: That's disgusting. Have you *ever* fallen asleep because of a glass of warm milk?
GPop: [sullenly] Maybe.