Shyzer.com

I’ve been trying to teach myself Spanish by watching TV with the SAP setting on. I’ve got no damn idea what they’re saying, but I figure after ten or twenty years of this, I’ll be able to follow along.

My next invention is going to be a heated mouse. I use the word “next” loosely seeing as how every one of my inventions to date have yet to get past the stage where my family looks at it and tells me I’m a moron. But I’m sticking with this heated mouse plan. At night when I’m on the computer, I’m usually bundled up in blankets in a futile attempt to retain what little body heat is emanating from me in the first place. But unfortunately, my hand and fingers working the mouse become icy cold you can’t work a computer with gloves. It’d be like Fat Homer trying to make a phone call and having the operator tell you that your fingers are too fat for dialing. Hence, this is where a heated mouse comes in handy.

Now I just gotta figure out how to heat my mouse up.

I thought about sticking it in the microwave for a few minutes, but that wouldn’t be too feasible since you’d have to reheat it every few minutes. Plus there’s the whole plastic melts when heated factor. Damn chemistry. The other night I lit a few candles and placed them right next to me mouse, which actually worked in keeping the hand / mouse region warm. Yet thankfully I tried this method out first before rushing into mass production of Goob’s Mouse Flames or some other retarded name, because I quickly realized that in order to keep the area warm enough, you had to place the candles so close to your hand that you couldn’t move the mouse without touching them and you couldn’t touch them without suffering from 3rd degree burns. Now I’m all for going to the hospital in search of Hot Nurses, but it’s not nearly as much fun when you can’t use your right hand to…uh…shake their hand when you meet them!

I’m probably gonna buy a pack of those little heated pads that run on electricity next week and see if I can’t take apart my mouse and rig something up. The hardest part will be wiring it into the mouse itself so that it draws power from the computer, but I’m sure Google can help me out there. And then I’ll only have to find a company to produce them, draw a cool logo for the box, and buy a 4 AM infomercial timeslot on Comedy Central before people can start sending me $19.99. BUT WAIT! There’s more! If you act within the next twenty minutes, I’ll throw in this heated keyboard for FREE! That’s a $59.99 retail value for FREE!

Whoa, sorry, I got a little ahead of myself there. Wait a minute, did I just say a heated keyboard? Man, that’d be sweeeeet.

I think it’s time they updated Richard Pryor’s website.

Also, the Wizards of Winter house got shut down. Too bad, seeing as how he spent 10 grand on it.

Ahoy maties! Tis ye fav’orit sea buccaneer Cap’n Sealegs Alderman ‘porting in fer duty. For ye see, today be Talk Like A Pirate Day, begad!

Blimey, don’t tell me ye scurvy dogs done fergot it be today! I outta throw ye lot into tha bilge fer that or turn ye into grub fer tha fishes!! Tha ship hands here at tha Goob Ship done already raised the Jolly Quarters fer tha day and tha poop deck shall soon be scrubbed handsomely. Me and tha lassies were gonna go watch a movie, but ye couldn’t see it, fer it was rated ARRRRRRRRG.

So belay what ye doing right now, grab some grog and some buckos, and start talkin’ like a pirate before I make ye alls walk tha plank!! Or at tha v’ry least, go buckle ye swash for a cup’ol ‘o minutes! But tis be Cap’n Sealegs Alderman sayin’ farwell. I be off in search of me booty of doubloon and a wench to keep me comp’ny ternight! ARG!

I’m still trying to figure out why ask.com thinks Shyzer is the number one result for this search string.

Marriage proposals, what is taking him so long?

So to whomever is out there waiting for me to offer my hand in holy matrimony, send me your picture. If you’re hot, that is.

My middle and high school days were the only time in my life that I’ve lived in any one house or apartment for longer than a few months at a time. It was located in a little neighborhood on the west side of town; a place where I met the infamous Chong and where some of the best times of my life are etched into my brain. You know, all that Hallmark, little white picket fence, Leave it to Beaver type bullshit. But most importantly, the house had a phone number that was just one digit off from the local Super K-Mart.

You see, our number ended in 333. K-Mart’s ended in 666. So at the very minimum, we received two or three calls a week from unsuspecting customers who had dialed the phone without looking and simply misplaced their finger on the keypad. At first, we were polite and understanding:

“No, you’ve got the wrong number.”
“Nope, this is 333, you want 666. ”
“Yeah, this is K-Mart…haha, just kidding…”

That lasted all of 10 days. It soon became custom to sporadically hear throughout the Goob Household perfect impersonations of K-Mart employees; from the initial greeting, to the humming of the classic on-hold music while we “transferred” them to the department they sought, to the eventual part where we insulted / pissed off the caller and laughed after they hung up.

So I figured, why not recreate my two favorite K-Mart Phone Call memories; The Sold-Out Home & Garden Section and The Go Fuck Yourself Shoe Department.

The first one was actually performed by my brother Waynus. I had picked up the phone and been asked to be connected with the Home & Garden section without even so much as a simple “Hello.” This slight oversight by the caller for some reason pissed me off, so as I put her on hold, I told Waynus to pretend he worked in the H&G department and to pretend nothing was in stock. It went a little something like this.

Waynus: “Hello, this is the Home & Garden Department, my name is John, how may I help you?”
Caller: “I bought a fern bush from you just two days ago and it has already died. When will your next shipment be in, because these obviously came from a bad batch.” (notice how she didn’t say hello there either! Bitch!)
Waynus: “Hold on just one second miss, let me check our records….oh I’m so sorry, but we aren’t getting in any more ferns for the rest of the season.”
Caller: “What?! It’s April! What do you mean “the rest of the season?”
Waynus: “I honestly don’t know, I’m just reading what’s here in the logs. Tell ya what, I’ll let you come in and swap that dead fern for any plant you want once our next shipment comes in.”
Caller: “Oh, all right. Well, how about your next shipment of roses. When do they come in?”
Waynus: “Let’s see…Oh darn, we aren’t getting any more of them either.”
Caller: “Are you serious?! How can that be?”
Waynus: “You know how corporate offices can be. Nobody ever understands their reasoning…”
Caller: “Fine…(by this point she’s really getting frustrated)…How about orchids?”
Waynus: “Nope, no more of those either.”
Caller: “WHAT? How about daisies!?”
Waynus: “All out.”
Caller:”Marigolds?”
Waynus: “Nada.”
Caller: “TULIPS!?”
Waynus: “Not a one!”
(This literally went one for a full 60-90 seconds before she finally lost it. The whole time I was on the phone listening on, holding down the mute button, and trying not to burst out laughing.)
Caller: “WELL WHAT THE HELL DO YOU HAVE THEN?! I’VE JUST NAMED EVERY SINGLE DAMN FLOWER IN MY GARDEN!”
Waynus: “Okay, okay, let me go ask my manager……..Okay, he says we are getting in some ferns soon.”
Caller: “FERNS?! THAT’S WHAT THIS WHOLE CONVERSATION IS ABOUT! YOU SAID YOU WEREN’T GETTING ANY MORE IN!”
Waynus: “I did? Oh…um…hold on….yep, we’re not getting any more in!”
Caller: (Then there was this loud scream of anger followed by eight or nine curse words)
Waynus: “Wait, wait, wait, it says here we are getting some daffodils in soon!”
Caller: “WHEN?!”
Waynus: “Um….oh, no. It says we aren’t getting any more daffodils in soon.”
(More curse words followed by me finally losing it and bursting out laughing)

Honestly, I have no idea why she got so upset. She must have been having a bad day before hand or something. I didn’t feel bad though, because she could have avoided it all simply by saying “hello” to me at the start.

My most favorite call, however, needs a little background story. Chong and I were for some unknown reason wandering around Super K-Mart due to massive boredom and…well, boredom. Apparently our loitering, however, was against some asinine policy, because we were soon being followed by an assistant manager named Mark. It was apparent that he thought we were about to shoplift something, which is some pretty sound reasoning and all because every teenager in the world who walks through a store looking at things is obviously up to no good! He finally swooped down upon us with a Rent-A-Cop by his side and told us we either had to purchase something or leave. As we began to protest, he held up his hand and told the Rent-A-Cop to escort us out of the building. What Mark failed to realize was that he had just pissed off two immature teenagers who had the means and the goal to make his life as much a living hell as possible. We finally looked at each other, silently nodded, and proceeded to walk to the front of the store, and grab two shopping carts each, which made the Rent-A-Cop back off and let us be. We filled them all to the brim with as much shit as possible, before taking them to Mark and telling him we changed our minds and didn’t want any of it anymore. As he was screaming about how immature we were, we walked off smiling and feeling that justice had been served.

That was, until thirty minutes later when the phone rang in my kitchen and Chong picked it up since he was closer.

Chong: “Hello?”
Caller: “GET ME THE FUCKING SHOE DEPARTMENT!”
Chong: “One moment please!” (puts the caller on mute) “Dude, there is some chick on the phone who is pissed! Tell her you’re the shoe department and make her think you are Mark! ”
Goob: “You are truly evil….I like it!” (grabs the phone) “Yeah, this is the K-Mart shoe department. What the hell do you want?”
Caller: “I WAN…..wait, what did you just say to me?”
Goob: “I said this is the shoe department, woman, what the hell do you want? We’re a little busy right now and I don’t have time to be chit chatting on the phone with angry customers.”
Caller: “How dare you talk to me like that?! What’s your name, asshole, I’ll have your job for that!”
Goob: “HA! I don’t think so, bitch. My name is Mark and I’m an assistant manager down here. They wouldn’t fire me over your word alone! So why don’t you go try and threaten somebody else!”
Caller: “I have never in my life been treated more disrespectfully from an employee of a store than I am being treated right now! You better believe that I plan to…”
Goob: (I cut her off) “Listen bitch, I don’t care what you plan to do. You can call my boss. You can call the corporate office. You can even come down here and meet me face-to-face. The end result is still going to be the same. Nobody will give a flying fuck. Boo hoo, so you’ll take your business elsewhere. We won’t care! We have millions and millions of customers, you think we’ll cry because you’ve gone to shop at Wal-Mart? Hell, from the sound of your voice, you’re probably fat and ugly, so getting you out of our store will probably make things a little prettier around here!”
Caller: (She had really started going off when I said “fat and ugly”) “FAT AND UGLY!? FAT AND UGLY?! I’LL HAVE YOUR JOB FOR THIS! I’LL….”
Goob: (seeing that my job here was done, I felt it best to interrupt her again and get off the phone) “Blah, blah, blah. Like I said, we’re busy here, slut. So either you can get your whiny ass down here and ask to talk to me face-to-face, or you can shut the hell up and leave me alone. The choice is yours.”

I’m sure nothing ever happened to Mark over all that. I highly doubt he was in the shoe department then and even if he was, I’m pretty sure there would have been some other employee that could vouch for him saying that he never said any of those things on the phone. But I like to think that that lady actually went down to the store and caused Mark a little bit of trouble while he sorted everything out. If there’s anything I truly hate in the world, it’s profiling people just because some of their peers do certain things.

Unfortunately, my phone number no longer ends in a cool miss-dial like that. But it sure is fun to talk about those days with my brothers and sister up here in Virginia. In fact, they have reminded me of heaps of hijinks that we used to pull back in the day, which I had completely forgotten about but which their little brains soaked up richer and fuller than mine. In fact, I think I’ll create a new category called “hijinks” just for little stories like these.

In the 24 hours since I uploaded the new photos, I’ve received six messages saying my mom is hot. To all six of you (and all the others who were thinking it but didn’t say anything), I have this to say:

SHE’S MY FREAKING MOM! BACK OFF!

I’ve had to deal with this my whole life. It still doesn’t make it any less gross to think about though =)

The words above were spoken to me today while I stood in the bathroom peeing. Colton, for some unknown reason, has a new fascination of walking in and watching people while they use the bathroom and then rating their performance. Thankfully, I passed his tough standards and earned not only his praise, but also his respect.

Yeah, you could say things are a bit different living back at home again. =)

As Stan so tactfully pointed out on the tagboard, I forgot to upload a post. This exact post as a matter of fact.

Remember how I talked about something a week ago called Dial a Jerk? Well, ever since Stan released this feature a week ago, the response has been amazing. Complete and total strangers have called to leave us messages. Daily readers have called to leave us messages. We’ve even had a Telephone Relay Operator (those folks that type stuff out for deaf people) call and read us lyrics from Basket Case.

So, naturally, we all felt the need to call in and leave messages for each other. I called once to complain about Stan’s music selection / volume level while he was on Live Stan Cam one afternoon, so not only did everybody get to hear my voice, we got to watch and view Stan’s reaction when he received my message! Angela also called and left us a brief message, although I have to say, we were completely and utterly shocked. Not by the fact that she called, but by the fact of how her voice sounded. I think it was about 0.001% of what either one of us thought it would sound like. So we asked her, nay, we begged her to call us the next time she became “socially happy” and leave us a message.

As they say, ask and ye shall receive slurred drunken messages from friends!.

Seriously, it’s by far one of the best drunken voicemails I’ve heard, and that’s including my own. I think the best part of the night was the conversation Stan and I were having about it as tears streamed down our faces from laughing so much.

Stan: I like how we are laughing and dissecting her message and she is either upside down in a ditch or getting buck nutty with the boy she met. Hahaha.

Seriously, if you have 40 seconds and you want to laugh, and go and listen. Now.

As we all know, I am a jerk. I’m even in a collective circle of other jerks. The leader of said circle is Stan, a familiar face here on Shyzer. Always the innovator, he devised Stan Cam earlier this year where he set up a webcam to follow his every movement. That’s was cool.

Later, he came up with Jerk TV, where a funny movie would be broadcast on Circle of Jerks for anybody and everybody to watch. That was pimp.

But earlier today, he simply outdid himself. He set up Jerk Voicemail.

It’s quite simple. Whenever you are bored / drunk / angry / stoned / happy / pissed off at El Nino / in jail and needing to make your one phone call / or plain out in a goofy mood, you can call Jerk Voicemail. The message will then be posted on Circle of Jerks for all to hear. The possibilities are endless with this and I for one cannot wait to get smashed and send in a drunken voicemail. But since I don’t see getting drunk in the foreseeable future, I’m just gonna call tomorrow and see what happens. I recommend you all do the same!

The number is 636-578-7220 and your privacy will be protected to the fullest extent. Your number will never be revealed to the public and if you accidentally say something personal in the message, we’ll bleep it out. So what are you waiting for?! Go call right now and leave a message! And if you’re too chicken to do so, head on over to Circle of Jerks and listen to the messages that have already been sent in!