A Bunch of Closet Mookists

This is what a typical Mook looks like. And the little one is one of THEE Mook's legitimate offspring. And by legitimate, I mean, not merely cloned. I could clone myself, maybe messing with the DNA some to accentuate the strengths that I come by naturally and tweaking out the FEW (and I mean very very very few) not so good traits. I have no bad ones, just some that aren't quite up to snuff with my high standards of awesomeness that I have grown accustomed to possessing. However, I don't think the world is ready even for my offspring, never mind an entire army of me running around. For some people I know, I am already one too many of myself for them to handle in anything other than small doses. they say I'm just too weird, but I know the truth. They are all clearly intimidated by the aura of awesomeness that surrounds me where ever I go.

While I have some followers who have chosen to out themselves and list on this blog as followers, and a few friends who follow me outside of the blog world, it has come to my attention that there are a number of closet Mookists out there. You know who you are, because you are reading this.

I'm not sure quite why you're reading this right now, especially since you should be focusing on your work, you know those clients you have to deal with everyday? You really should be concentrated on their needs and on keeping your SLA numbers up. Otherwise my wife will get irritated. Most of you have never seen her truly irritated. Trust me, as awesome as I am, even I don't like to see her really irritated. I irritated the heck out of her once, years ago. It resulted in a lopsided frying pan that almost took my head off, and even by missing and her ensuing diatribe of misdirected anger (I mean really, I am charming enough that even when I mess up on those once in a decade type situations, I should be let off the hook.), I have yet to be able to fully recover. My brain is always bouncing around from thought to..hey look a shiny quarter!..thought. I haven't had a normal sleep schedule in years, my mind is so affected. Sure, she'll tell you I was ADD before she met me, and that my sleep schedule has more to do with my odd work schedule than her chewing me a new one. Truth is, she's wrong. She is lying and she knows it. She's just trying to gloss over a more turbulent past. She would like everyone to assume she has always been as sweet and awesome as she is now. She forgets that I did not bestow the grace of my awesomeness unto her until about 4 years ago. Sometimes success just goes to a person's head.

Anyways, where the hell was I? Oh yeah. Your work, you little closet Mooks! Get to it! You can read this on your own time, right along with your political discussions you hold from time to time.

What's that? Oh you didn't realize I knew all about that? Yeah, see that is why I am full of awesomeness, and you are all just full of awe. I got midget monkeys trained in the art of the ninja scoping out your homes. If you get up to go take a leak at 3am, they see it, and I know about it. Sick huh? It gets better. Yeah, one of each of these ninja monkeys' eyes are bionic and hooked up to a live stream to my computer being recorded.

Its not that enjoy watching you people use the bathroom, I really don't. Its all about recording your habits and activities for the future. You see, I'm convinced as I';m sure you are all convinced as well, of the greater worldwide conspiracy against me by the global elite. They are afraid of me. I am a product of prophecy as my ego was born before me and foretold of my birth. Of course in the process of my birth, the ego had to insert itself inside of me, my head got too big, and mom was forced to C-section me out because I wouldn't be squeezed out so easily. But yes, I appear to be a simple man now, but the real truth of it all is that someday, after I get done procrastinating and stuff (just one of my manly superpowers), I will be the greatest force to be reckoned with on my block. Well, provided that bully I saw over by the swing set earlier doesn't move in on my block.

And that is where you come in. Once that bully makes his move, I'm going to send my ninja monkeys to summon you, my secret unknown army, to harass the bully with your superior numbers. Of course you're gonna have to finish that call your on, and make sure it is properly documented before you close it out, and tell my wife you're going home sick. Either way it will be an Epic battle of Good Vs. Evil. I of course am good, and the bully is evil. You all will probably falter at the moment of truth and try to be the U.N. and level sanctions on him. And then, I will have to get mad, turn green and burst out of my pajama pants and wife beater. And then I will show the bully how my shoulders used to look like plastic action figure molded muscles, before they turned to flabby useless slabs of limp roast beef. Damn You Jimmy Johns! You turned me into what I eat! Damn you all to helllllll! (are any of you old enough to even get the altered movie reference here?)

Anyways, the bully will be distracted with my perfect and scientific like description of how cool I used to be, and then finally my ninja monkeys will catch up to us. They smoke and have developed COPD and lug around oxygen tanks, so they are a little slower than you guys. But, more effective than you, they will just plunder the bully, dip him in a bronzing agent and put him on display at the park. Just to let people know that the park is now considered under the jurisdiction of Mookified security forces. Meanwhile, you useless people, having disgraced the message of Mookism, will be sent back to work. But I will have called my wife and told her why she should write you all up for lying about why you left 'sick'.

At the end of the day, I will just be this awesome. And you will be grumbling cubicle dwellers, who speak under their breath about how REALLY MESSED UP the Mind of Mookie can really get. Just make sure you do it on your break. I wouldn't want you to get into too much trouble with the boss. Afterall, I have to let her come back home at the end of the day, and I don't want her to take out her issues with you all on me.

Random Observations of Localized Events

First off, Ninja Kitties. Might be an even bigger threat to us than headless chickens. Not sure, but President Obama has personally assured me that he will have a team of researchers look into this. Now I know what you're thinking. President Obama and I don't exactly mesh politically, so why would he have personal conversations with me? Well, there is one really good explanation for that. I am a really really important person. My self-importance was so overflowing that it seeped out into the real world. President Obama realizes this, and has determined, through the use of well placed mobile teleprompters that my input is actually valuable on a global level to the point of conducting useless threat assessments of unverifiable and illusory entities. Anyways, back to ninja kitties...

While on the job, I pulled around to the back of the parking lot at St Luke's, to scan my babysitter strip, which can verify that I actually went to this place instead of just saying I did. I pull up about 5 to 6 feet away from the light pole that the strip is on. As I open the door, a flat-faced, fat but mean looking kitty backs away from the pole itself by about 5 to 6 feet. It stares at me, just licking its chops repeatedly. I approach the pole to scan the strip and I look down and see a lifeless squirrel laying in a depression behind the pole. Neither the evil ninja kitty or the squirrel were there on my previous stop almost 2 hours prior. The ninja kitty gave me my room, but showed no signs of fear. He just stared me down, still licking away at his chops in some sort of OCD-like manner.

Now, being in full Rent-a-Cop battle rattle, I had no fear of this kitty, ninja or not. I turned away and walked the 5 or 6 feet back to my car. I closed the door, and I looked back towards the cat. But Ninja Kitty was GONE!! I walk back to the pole and the squirrel...ALSO GONE. This was by no means a small squirrel, He had been plenty healthy in the girth department, and quite long. I wouldn't call the squirrel fat, but he was definitely husky, maybe big boned. Removing him from sight with no sound or sign of removal is quite a task. Either Ninja Kitty is one helluva ninja, OR....there was an entire squad of ninja kitties waiting in the tree branches above and in the treeline at the edge of the lot. All I know, is I saw a squirrel, and then I didn't see a squirrel. Spooky stuff, those ninja kitties!

THE TALK READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED HERE for mature material and sexual undertones

So my wife has been busy all year bullying me. She wants me to give "the talk" to my 10 year old son. There are a few problems with this. A- My mom of all people attempted to give me the talk. I ignored it in favor of the current sitcom on TV at the moment. Gave her a few "yeah yeah"s and "I know"s. B- I don't have clue one how to give 'the talk', and C- its my son:

God love the boy, but he is definitely still in the "girls have cooties" stage, and he pretty much doesn't notice girls unless they are playing in the game of tag with him. And he definitely doesn't notice girls as anything other than "not boys". but either way, they are going to have the "health class" sometime this school year where they tell boys about the changes and stuff. The girls get their own. I personally back in my day, would have preferred to pay the admission to that show. It has to be clearly more interesting than speaking about my stuff in medical terms. Besides, I had already seen my own stuff. Not much interest in staring at it.

So, my wife takes the youngest to the grocery store and suggests that TODAY WILL BE THE DAY YOU TALK TO THE BOY!...I had very adeptly pushed this talk off since she learned the class was coming and didn't want the school to be the one to introduce him to the subject.

So the talk was pretty bland. "Look, you are gonna get hair in your armpits at some point," I tell him. I am informed he knows that already. Fantastic, one idea down. Tackle the easy stuff first, then move on to the more delicate stuff. "And your stuff," I continue, "You're gonna get hair down there too" His response is "EEEWWWWW". I comforted him in the knowledge that none of us are pleased with that development, but that in fairness, women get hair down there too. Again with the "EWWWW" followed by a bit of cackling. As with most things, it seems the idea of bad stuff happening to other people is funny. Even if it sucks when its you as the victim, you'll still laugh at other people's expenses. Just the way our hideous minds work. I informed him, that as a blond it may not be so bad for him as it is for say, me, a darker haired individual Then I informed him that his stuff would also get a bit bigger. Again with the cackling. Clearly this is still beyond his maturity in comprehension. Hell its well beyond MY maturity in delivering the information. we weren't going into the sex talk yet...thank god...I may have had a stroke and died if I had to go there with a 10 year old. But, I still had to go way further than I wanted to. I had to explain that he will be going through hormone changes...he will begin to get funny feelings about girls where he actually starts to like them. I was greeted with a confused look, another "EWW" and a bit of nervous cackling to boot. Well, I think to myself...at least he isn't asking technical in depth questions that will task my abilities here. I would honestly rather be caught in the middle of a gunfight than deal with this. Hell I'd rather explain the technical details of what's going on with a newly lobotomized-by-gunfire brain laying in the street next to us in the middle of said firefight. I proceeded to explain the developing nature that kids his age only know as "the pre-morning pee" phenomenon, and how it would happen randomly from time to time, and not just for peeing. I explained that this is normal, and not to worry about it. He laughs some more.

If I were being graded on my ability to give this lecture, I assure you, not only would I get an "F", but I would be permanently banned from applying for any instructional position again. WOOF! was I glad to get that over with. Anyone want to volunteer to take the BIG talk with the kid for me?

So, on a related note, Buggy, our youngest clearly gets crushes on the pretty women. I'm pretty sure his teacher falls in that category. So, somehow or another, the nature of the conversation gets focused onto the oldest one, you know, "giggle at hair on YOUR private parts, but disgusted by it on his own" boy. Somehow his mom asks him if he likes any girls in his class, or any other class or whatever. He continues to look down and deny things. Oh, we grilled him for the better part of 15minutes as he attempted to deflect the conversation away from him with the ever clever "What question?" when asked to answer a question. It has been determined as I mentioned above, that he barely recognizes a girl as anything other than "not a boy". It turns out, none of he and his other guy friends even talk about the local chicks in the school yard. these kids these days....they are either smarter than we were, or not as mature in the ways of adult life at that age as we were in my generation.

Hell, I had a girlfriend when I was in the 2nd grade. She didn't know it, but yeah, she was my girlfriend. I walked her home from school once in awhile since she was going my way. I of course had to deny liking her when the older boys come around. Don't want to let her think she's got me locked down. I was 8 and a happening dude, gotta keep my options open, ya know. When her family moved away, I was heartbroken. Probably the most devastated guy I knew. Even made me cry in front of my mom. That only made things worse. Heartbroken and humiliated. As a man, crying in front of women, mom or not, was just unacceptable. I'm sure I had to change into superhero underwear to console my manhood after that moment. Either way I survived. And of course, all us guys were talking smack about who we liked, and what we'd do with those girls. Yeah, we really were studs. Strip down to our unds, turn on the 70s porn music and watch a kid who had no idea what to even do if he got there, try to put the sexy moves on some chick.

When I was 6 I had the biggest crush on this lady named Marlee. She was a friend of my aunt and mom. Ran into her at some party or get together or something at my aunt's house while we were out in California. I found Marlee, and then I was just talking my head off, finding ways to impress this older woman. She didn't know it, but she was my girlfriend at that point. She had replaced the babysitter who lived at the end of the block, I had left back in Iowa for a couple weeks. Yeah, I was quite the little Casanova. So good at my game, that I could occupy her time all afternoon and keep her from the rest of the adults...she was enamored with me, I know it, but in the end, I had to tell her t let me go. I had to go back to Iowa and elementary school and stuff. It was definitely better for her that we end it there, and let her find a man 'more deserving' than me. Yeah, I know, who is more deserving than me, but I know how to let a chick down gently. You have to, their gentle hearted creatures, and you never know what kind of psychological things might go on in their head if you mess them up too bad!

Then there was Junior high. I was informing my son, who didn't like any girls in his grade, (after asking him if he liked the 6th graders instead) informing him that its okay to go after the older chicks. Mentioned how I had a junior high English teacher, Ms. Forbes. She was beautiful, and I almost mentioned a highly touted and admired portion of her female anatomy, before I cut myself off realizing I was still talking to my 10 yr old son. My wife was just about ready to cold cock me to keep me from continuing on down the path of THAT story. But yeah, ALL the guys thought she was the hottest teacher we'd ever met. And of course, more stories about how we'd do things to her, and she'd be all flattered by us. Yeah, we were clearly trying to bat way out of our league. Not that it mattered. She was an old fashioned teacher. You know, one that doesn't go around sleeping with her students, like all these young ones do today that keep showing up in the news and on courtroom dockets across the country. Damn shame too. I would've wooed her with perfect grammar, and then well...you know, be a stud and all that stuff....just as soon as I found my superhero underwear.

But yeah, back to the conversation at the table with the boy. I tried all kinds of ways to trip him up in his own words. Now I have broken this boy before, and made him admit to his lying ways. He hates being grilled. I even told him about how we 'tortured' Noriega in Panama before him surrendering to U.S. forces, and how I could adapt that here until he gave up the girl's name that he likes. But he held strong. One of two things is going on here. He is either learning how to use the force properly and withstand my interrogations (not likely) or he really has a bona fide non-interest in the women folk at this point. And as far as I'm concerned, as his dad, I'm okay with that. Let the boy wait longer than I did, and I'll be happy.