When You Write Her Up – It Never Stops

Web Headline: His Wife Is A Stay-At-Home Mom, And After He Gave Her A Written Performance Review, She Lost It

When I read this headline, I winced, thinking what might happen if I did the same thing. I wondered what the mourners would say at my subsequent funeral –

Yeh, Don was sure an intelligent man, but that performance appraisal thing, well ….

Now, in the guy’s defense, his complicated, unusually blended family had formed internal factions and became highly dysfunctional. Which coincidentally describes the office environment at every large company I have ever worked for. Thus, the contrived idea of a written performance appraisal for his wife, I guess.

His family needed counseling, but he went for the easiest, cheapest alternative, which in this case, was far from the best. If he had asked just one guy, any guy, about this idea beforehand, he could have been saved a lot of grief.

Because if you have the insidious balls (and they better be inside you to prevent them from being ripped off) to present a written list of grievances to your wife (a marital Festivus, if you will), prepare to be presented with your wife’s unwritten list of your indiscretions, which could go back many years.

Yes, you will have opened a Pandora’s Box – appropriately named after a woman – which includes that comment you allegedly made five years ago, at some alleged dinner, that you don’t even remember, to her cousin, which was (select one):

A.     Offensive

B.     Suggestive

C.     Embarrassing

D.    Weird

E.     Stupid

F.      All off the above

To which you will probably reply: Is she the one with the enormous breasts?

And the discussion will all go downhill from there.

Rest assured that your wife’s unwritten list will dwarf your written one. And you will have totally forgotten about all your alleged transgressions, including the ones you committed yesterday, and thus, will not be able to put up even a token defense.

And in this case, the guy’s wife reacted harshly, as expected, and then yacked about it to all her girlfriends, resulting in a huge estrogen-fueled pity party, as always happens when a guy does something stupid. In this case, it was so absurd that it made its way onto the Internet, which caused a national pity party, and got the guy ridiculed as a colossal jerk. Let’s hope he didn’t “write her up” because of it.

So guys, a written performance is not recommended if your wife is not performing up to acceptable standards. What is recommended? I don’t know – maybe ask Dr. Phil.

But maybe my opinion of the performance appraisal process itself is somewhat biased ….

Performance Appraisals

During my business career, I hated the disgusting, humiliating concept of yearly performance appraisals. I wouldn’t even have agreed to do these, except you had to submit to this tortuous abuse to get a salary increase. In effect, you become a prostitute, getting screwed for money. Oh, and they do enjoy boinking you.

I’m convinced that the large companies I worked for predetermined what raise they could afford to give to you, and then wrote the performance appraisal to match the percentage increase. So:

If you were doing a great job – The company had to rip you apart to justify not giving you a higher raise.

If you were doing a poor job – The company ripped into you in hopes that you might quit.

If you were doing a fair job, well-matched to your raise amount – The company still ripped into you just because it was fun.

They asked you to rate yourself to make it appear fair, but they don’t even look at your drivel most of the time. When I was young and naïve, I spent over an hour writing my first self-appraisal. At the end, it was pencil-whipped in five minutes.

At one of my former employers, where the appraisals were the worst, I was skewered for the type of neckties I wore, who I ate lunch with, and other trivial matters. Instead of being at home with my wife the week after my second daughter was born, I came in to work to launch a new product I was responsible for (the project ran two weeks late, and my daughter arrived three weeks early, creating the conflict). Still, I received a grade of “needs improvement” on the “Is Committed to the Job” metric on my performance appraisal just two months later. The former company president is buried at the same cemetery as my parents. I hope I never happen upon his gravestone after drinking a couple of liters of Dr. Pepper.

One of the jokes I planned to use in this post is to ask what I would rather do:

A.   Go through a performance appraisal at work?

B.   Have a vigorous prostate exam?

Funny joke, I reasoned, but then I truly pondered it. Both examinations are intrusive, highly disgusting, painful, and degrading. And surprisingly, my preference, provided I still received the same raise after either option, is the prostate exam. Something is going up my @$$ anyway, it may as well be only a finger and corporations eschew rubber gloves! 

I reason that the prostate exam is shorter in duration, and once your sphincter returns to its original size, you are all fine and normal. And I have also passed all my prostrate exams and have never been criticized by my doctor during the procedure. Whereas I could be upset and sore for a whole month after getting my @$$ ripped apart in a performance appraisal. Maybe you guys who are still working can suggest this alternative next time you are due for a performance appraisal.

Final Words of Wisdom

So guys, never give your wife or woman a written performance appraisal. And at work, don’t spend much time doing your self-appraisal, and remember to always keep your sphincter tight during the actual performance review.

 

 

 

We Couldn’t Care Any Less – Except for the beer thing

When you are a toddler, you basically live a carefree existence. You literally can make it through the entire day without a care in the world. People actually make you sammiches without you even having to ask! How terrific is that?

You only start to care about things when you start school. Learn something! Or else you could die penniless in the street. Of course, you are too young to realize they are manipulating you.  

You need to care about school! That is why they never teach about, let alone mention, “living on welfare” anytime between kindergarten and 12^th grade. If you knew you could exist without ever working, you would have kids dropping out of school in fifth grade. “Long division? Screw you; I’m going home – to play video games. They never mention “living on welfare” in college either, because if you drop out, you deprive the school of revenue. No, it is important to “join the workforce,” where your soul will be sucked out of you.

But some kids figure out you don’t need an education to survive. At the time, we viewed these as the dumb kids. But who are the real dummies? Remember that Ralph kid who was always cutting class? Well, you ended up paying for his Cheetos and lottery tickets for his entire life, not to mention beer.  

Ralph thanks you!

Everything Matters

Once you graduate from high school, you suddenly become aware of the whole world, and you care about everything. Your mind is young, wild and adventurous, and so idealistic. You want to save the whales, feed the world, explore the supernatural, and attempt to fix things that have worked just fine for the last few hundred years. 

But then you enter your 30s and must start adulting. You may still care about many things, but life forces you to prioritize. You may still want to save the whales, but saving 15% on that big-screen tv becomes so much more rewarding. And it basically stays that way throughout your adult life. Your caring is spread throughout multiple concerns as you juggle those balls and spin those plates, hoping only to drop a few along the way.

Becoming Care-Less

A significant change occurs when you join the MOACA (Men of a Certain Age) tribe. (And please, no crap about offending Indians because tribes have existed for over 30,000 years. So I apologize to all of you remaining Neanderthals out there.) MOACAs have retired from most of their adult responsibilities and now have time once again to care about everything. However, now they care about very little.

Random Someone On Facebook: Hey! Who can solve this equation?

35 / 54 + 6 x 3 – 8

MOACA: Tell me the real-life problem this represents, and I will tell you the answer.

RSOF: Ha, ha. It doesn’t represent anything! I just made it up.

MOACA: WTHC (Who the Heck Cares) – Note: you can substitute a stronger H-word if so inclined. You might even prefer to go full MOACA with the WTFC version.

RSOF: By the way, the answer is 4!

MOACA: 4 what

RSOF: Uh, 4 nothings. Just 4.

MOACA: Then what difference does it make? STHU (Shut the Heck Up) or of course, STFU if you prefer.

Is That Your Final Answer?

MOACAs signature answer to many things is WTHC. The question can be irrelevant, irreverent, or too difficult. Often, when the MOACA should know the answer but can’t remember it, the WTHC answer is still the same. It is that wisdom, blended with experience, coupled with all that crankiness, which gives the MOACA his charm.

MOACAs are terrible at trivia since they either can’t remember the answers they should know, and don’t care about the rest of them. And they are never chosen to be contestants on Jeopardy!

Jeopardy Host: She became Queen of France in 1422.

Brrrrrrrrrrrg!

Jeopardy Host: Yes, Mr. MOACA, you buzzed in first. Your answer?

Mr. MOACA: Who the hell cares?

Jeopardy Host: I’m sorry, that is incorrect. Your total is now negative $12,000. The correct answer is Marie of Anjou.

Mr. MOACA: Who the hell is she? And can we leave her mother’s religion out of it?

There Are No Social Cares Either

MOACAs also lose their interest in social causes also. The whales have been just fine looking out for themselves all these years and will continue to do so.

And the cranky MOACAs have no tolerance for social protests:

“Git you’re a$$es out of the street and git yourselves a jerb! I had to work in $h!+holes my entire life, so find yourself a $h!+hole, get your soul sucked out of you, and make something of your life! You will be much less likely to burn down that building when you helped pay for it.

Full Circle

You came into this life without any cares, and for the MOACA, the task is to leave it with as few as possible.

 

 

 

 

This Year’s Weirdest Christmas Gift Ever!

Several years ago, at Christmastime, I began donating a goat for poor people through ChildFund International. While I admit it’s kind of a gimmick to get you to donate, it is a legitimate thing. I wrote about this a few years ago, and the essay appears in my book Turkey Terror At My Door! (If you want to send a goat to Africa, click here)

I wanted to use ChildFund’s photo of the African kid holding a goat in my book, so I sent a copy of the essay to the head of the organization with my request. The woman didn’t find my writing all that humorous, but let me use the picture. In response, I did tone down some of my wisecracks.

The purpose of the goats is to provide milk to their hungry owners. I enjoyed giving a goat so much that  I started giving two goats. I was ready to do the same this year when I noticed another option. Instead of giving two female goats, I could donate a pair of breeding goats. So, when the female goat wasn’t supplying milk, the couple could get busy and end up creating a Ponderosa full of goats.

I was intrigued by this idea, so I decided to go with the breeders because my gift could potentially populate the continent with goats and solve world hunger. Because that’s just the type of guy I am. 

Here Is Your Mission – If You Decide To Accept It

But then, of course, I began to worry about what could go wrong with my master plan. Did my male goat truly understand his mission? Does he know he is supposed to impregnate his traveling companion as soon as possible after arriving in Africa? Wonder if my goats are not compatible lovers? What if she is a stuck-up bitch goat, and this turns him off?

Now my fears were spinning out of control. Could he be a gay goat? There is such a thing; it’s called a gayoate’ (please don’t look this up). I’m really hoping they check this out before they ship him out. Maybe show him photos of some hot goat babes and see how he reacts, because I ain’t paying for a gay goat. And this has nothing to do with discrimination or bias. Bucky, the goat, has only one job, and he can’t do it if he is climbing up the wrong hill.

I want my goat to be the horniest goat that ever lived — the H-GOAT as it were. I want him to knock up the goat he was paired with, then roam around the village, getting as much goat-pie as he can. Of course, now I have a vested interest in goat sex, so it’s on to the Internet for information on this fascinating topic.

On average, every 21 days, the female goat enters this thing called estrus – not to be confused with the character on Gunsmoke, or people in the Bible. She stands in the ready position for up to 36 hours, waiting for the male to mount her from behind. And then, in the time it takes to say “Wham, bam, thank you maaaam”, it’s all over. Yes, he finishes the deed in just a few seconds. She doesn’t even know who did it, and you can bet he’s not going to text her in the morning. This explains why there is no porn for goats; if they blink at the wrong time, they miss the whole thing.

But guys, this does give you an out the next time you are premat … uh, you can’t hold ah, there’s a fast finish. Just tell her, “Hey, I lasted longer than a goat!”. Please let me know if that one works.

Therefore, this year I am experiencing the joy of Christmas by sharing the joy of goat sex. I hope my stud goat soon arrives in Africa and gives her what she needs, if only for a few seconds. Because Christmas is all about giving – and this year, also about fantastic goat sex.  

 

Lots of Sex, Lies, and Monopoly Money

Welcome to another edition of Don Explains It All

Today’s Topic: Cryptocurrency

Yes, today we are going to plunge into the exciting and complex world of what is called cryptocurrency! Well, they say it’s complex, but it’s really quite simple.

All this cryptocurrency is digital Monopoly money. It’s fake money, people! It ain’t real money. But somebody figured out a way to get people to accept this Monopoly money as if it was real money. And then a bunch techies and millennials actually started to buy stuff and invest using this digital Monopoly money.

Only, this stuff is even faker than Monopoly money. At least you can hold those gold $500 bills in your hands. But these crypto coins are allegedly mined out of the air and only exist in digital hyperspace. And what’s worse, once the first dude started digitally “mining” his Monopoly money, other people decided to create their own version of Monopoly money. So, now you have different versions of the fake cash.

Now, of course, those crypto maniacs will dismiss my assessment as coming from a “boomer” who just doesn’t understand the new cool, whiz-bang method of commerce. Well, at least I know better than try to use Monopoly money to buy goods at the 5-and-10, uh, I mean Costco.

Now I admit cryptocurrency could work. But there is one huge problem: You gotta use real money to buy the fake money. Now let me get this straight. You guys are using real money to buy fake money so you can have fun spending and trading the phony money. But what happens when people realize that the emperor has no cash? I think it’s call crypto because it buries your common sense in a crypt. A better name is gypto, because, eventually, you’ll get gypped. 

Gypped By A Modern Day Gypsy

Which brings us to the modern gypsy, Sam Bankman-Friend, founder of FTX. The FTX’s $32 billion in Monopoly money just went poof! And then the real money at the firm disappeared – well, not literally – someone ran off with it.

What happened? Well, Sammy blames his girlfriend. Now it's been reported that it was his “on and off” girlfriend. Now that’s true – he was on her – then he was off her. But then he was on another woman. Reportedly the FTX office was a polyamorous playground where people were all playing a variety of holes – kinda like a sexual golf course. So this particular woman was his “girlfriend” on Tuesday/Thursday, but the rest of the week he was out swinging his club at other holes.

Sammie recently said that the company failed because he got cocky. So FTX resembled a hippie commune with everybody at the office boinking each other when they weren’t trading Monopoly money. Now realize a lot of the boinking was taking place in the actual office. So, you would suppose some of the conference rooms had beds instead of tables. This would also impact productivity. I can’t meet at ten, I’m boinking Carol. Let’s make it three, I’m free after boinking Monica. 

Now Sam put, ah, let’s call her Miss Tuesday/Thursday (I heard Miss Wednesday was into goth and kinda spooky) in charge of an essential division of FTX. This was a smooth move because by the looks of her, she was the smartest woman in the harem. But I have to guess, the other  women getting boinked there may have been a tad better looking than Tuesday-Thursday. As appearances go, if you have seen pictures of Sammy, you know these women were only boinking him for the crypto. 

Sammy

And mixing all this sex, especially hippie sex will business, jealousy and $32 billion of crypto together was sure to cause big problems. It was very lame for Sammy to blame Tuesday/Thursday for the company's collapse. You set the thing up. You were in charge. You were the CBO – chief boinking officer.

Who’s to say that Sam decided to boink the big-breasted Jennifer in accounting on Tuesday, allured by her tight jeans and plunging neckline that day? In response, Miss Tuesday/Thursday may have said, “Bite me bitecoin boy! I’m crashing your company, and now poor Jennifer has nothing to count!”

In a recent interview, Sammy said, “I think I got a little cocky — I mean, more than a little bit.” Well duh! You got cocky all right! You were cocking every woman in the office, at the office. It was a literal cockfest. Instead of having your head in that $32 billion business, your head was buried deep in, ah, deep in …. Well let's say it wasn’t quite buried in the sand, but you were completely distracted, as it were.

You just can’t be boinking all the women in the company, especially if some of them are in critical positions, uh, I mean jobs. You don’t want any of them blowing job responsibilities, do you? Sammy, don’t you know anything about women? Of course, you don’t! You’re only thirty years old.

A Bad Combination

You mix billions of dollars, hippie commune sex, and Monopoly money together, and this all unraveled like a cheap sweater. And no one is boinking Sammy anymore since his crypto shrank. Even Cher could have seen this one coming, as you ended up with gypsies, tramps, and thieves. If you trusted this chubby 30-year-old to be your banker – even if his name is “Bankman”, you deserve to lose all your money.

Oh, and Don, you were a wise enough investor not to lose all your money in this scheme, right? Absolutely, I wanted to play investments with all the cool kids, so I only invested in what they said was the “safe way to invest in crypto.” So I didn’t lose it all. I’m only down 83% on my investment! I just need that banker guy from the Monopoly game to start printing some more money, and I will be well again.

 

 

 

 

 

Cat-Like Reflexes on the Internet

Isn’t it great to live in this high-tech era?!!! Modern technology is by far the most advanced in the history of the world. And that makes us the most sophisticated, refined, intellectual culture ever! Right? Oh, ahhhh, wait a minute on that one.

Well, the problem is that we remain homo sapiens, and despite all the new wired technology, and even wireless technology, we are all still wired as humans. Humans with natural reactions, obsessions, behaviors, and emotions. And sometimes bad things happen when the new world suddenly encounters the ancient world.

For example, we revert to being cavemen on Twitter (and sometimes Facebook), throwing all sorts of rocks at our perceived enemies when they disagree with us. Sometimes the conflicts escalate, and combatants start figurately clubbing each other as hard as they can.

On Instagram, women compete for “loves” (hearts) by posing in various sexual contortions and adornments. I’m not slut-shaming, but they resemble “bitches in heat” from the animal kingdom. Forgive my ignorance, but I learned everything about animal mating from a guy named Marlin Perkins.

Marlin: Oh, look! The female wildebeest has laid down in the middle of the field with her legs spread up in the air. The male wildebeest emerges from the brush and spots the female. What will happen next, children? But wait, it’s now time for a word from our sponsors, Mutual of Omaha.

On Facebook, we get a psychological boost when our posts get a lot of “Likes”. Some psychologists claim the feeling of collecting “likes” is similar to winning money. This, of course, feeds our primal need to be liked. This need exists either to cause us to treat our fellow man better, or to keep us from getting killed – probably a combination of both.

But one thing on the Internet has turned everyone into cats. Cats are easily distracted by funny objects. It’s something out of place, something hanging in the air, something foreign spotted in the vicinity shiny objects, laser pointers, and even balls of yarn. The cats feel the need to examine the item, bat it, bite it, hiss at it, and explore it. Yes, they are curious creatures, and sometimes curiosity indeed kills the cat.

We Are All Cats Now

You go on the Internet for a specific reason, but you may never get there – because of clickbait. The funny object – the headline - piques your curiosity – and you become as curious as that proverbial cat. You need to send that important email but ….. 

Dakota Johnson Just Wore a Sheer Gown Showing Off Her Sculpted Legs and Butt!

Well, maybe that email can wait because I’ve never seen a sculpted butt before. And just how sheer is that gown anyway?

Okay, where was I? Oh yes, the email … and boom!

Shakira Attacked by Wild Boars While Visting Park With 8-Year-Old Son

Crickey! I hope she’s okay. How did the boars get there, and what about the kid?

Woman With Humongous Breasts Has Trouble Sleeping and Getting Through Doorways!

Poor Woman! I wonder how big they are?

Kaley Cuoco Shows Off Her Super Toned Legs in a Gorgeous Mini Dress

I wonder how toned is super toned, and how can the dress be gorgeous if it contains so little fabric?

Dupa Lipa Wore a See-Through Fishnet Dress with a Pink Thong and Patrick Star Pasties

Fishnets, thongs, and pasties! It’s a trifecta!!!!!!!

Ya Gotta Show Some Restraint

Unless you show some restraint, you can log on in the morning, and before you know it - you

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK your way into the afternoon.

I will admit it was a distraction when I worked at home. Let’s say I was writing a report and had to look up the current GDP figures. I log on, and right on the landing page is:

Iggy Azalea Flaunts Her Show-Stopping Derriere on Stage in San Diego 

If that derriere can stop a whole show, how can it not stop my work?

GDP or derriere?

GDP or derriere?

GDP or derriere?

Am I a respected industry analyst or a cat? I should not have to make this choice!

To click, or not to click? – that is the 21^st-century question.

Resisting the Cat-like Reflexes

The cat can’t resist the weird objects – it’s a biological response. But we, being much more intelligent than a cat, can surely realize that those clickbait headlines are always way overexaggerated and stop clicking on them so much, right? Meooooooow!

I must have been able to resist most of those feline temptations since I always got my work in before the deadline. Although they know how to get you to take the bait ….

Study Shows Gorgeous Women Think Bald Guys Are The Sexiest!

Okay, I’m reasonably sure that I clicked on that one.

But I have much more to write about on this subject, for example .. Whoa, whoa, whoaaaaa!!!!!

Research Indicates Eating Large Amounts of Tuna Cures Cancer!

 

 

 

Tom Brady’s Ego Isn’t the Only Thing That’s Deflated

Everyone is heartbroken over the recent divorce of Gisele Bundchen and Tom Brady. This was the grown-up equivalent of the high school quarterback paired with the homecoming queen, except unlike then, where that coupling was doomed to fail, they actually made it work for 13 years, producing two offspring.

Don – The Relationship Expert – Explains It All

There has been much speculation about why the marriage ended. Of course, being an expert in male-female relationships, I know the real reason for the break-up.

It was all a result of Tom losing at the game of: How Mad Will She Get? All husbands play this game, some more than others. Frequently a husband will want to do something, buy something, go somewhere, etc., that his wife disapproves of. Then the husband has to decide if he is going to do the action anyway, based on how fizzed his wife will get.

Now at this point, you women out there will think this is the dumbest thing ever – “Why would anyone ever play a game that leads to your wife getting upset? That is so stupid!” Well, remember, ladies, we are men – with man-brains – and we actually enjoy doing foolish stuff. And besides that, if we didn’t do anything our wives disapproved of, we would have no fun at all.

So, when we are told we can’t do something, we calculate how much heat we will get if we disregard our wives' wishes and do it anyway. In the advanced version of the game, the husband tries to figure out what action he might take to mollify his wife’s resultant anger. Maybe a nice dinner, some flowers, or some extended time “between the sheets”- which is usually just wishful thinking. Yes, the game, and the big question is: How Mad Will She Get?

Here is an example: A husband is excited because a college friend is visiting from out of town, and two other local college chums want him to play golf on Sunday afternoon. But then his wife reminds him there is a get-together with her side of the family that same day. The guy would so much like to play golf with his buddies rather than waste a perfect golfing afternoon spending time with his wife’s crazy aunt Zelda cackling on about her inflamed bunions. Of course, his wife fully expects him to attend the party because it is the polite, respectable, and civilized thing to do.

But now the husband must predict his wife’s anger level if he golfs with the guys. Of course, being the conniving male he is, he will ALWAYS underestimate her level of anger and overestimate his ability to balance it out. He may even think she will “forget it even happened” at some point. – Bawaaah, bawaaaaaaaaaaaah, ba-double-waaaaaaaaaa!

So, the guy will make the mental calculation and go golfing. What he doesn’t, and never understands, is this is much more than just a family event to his wife. There are all sorts of emotions, feelings, bonding, and female stuff that go into this that will be greatly diminished if he’s not there. Also, everyone at the party will end up hating him. The women there will resent the implication that he would rather golf than be with them – which is actually true. And the men will hate him more because he is out having fun while they are stuck at the boring get-together listening to stories about bunions and other family dribble. The women are also upset because they empathize with the wife’s feeling of abandonment. Ahh, so sad.

Now, if the husband didn’t golf, he would be forced to tell his friends that his wife wouldn’t let him go. Of course, he has a good reason. But he would still wonder if they would laugh at him, or even call him a pu$$y on the golf course. Decline enough of these invitations, and you could lose your “man-card” and maybe even stop getting invited to these “guy” events. So no, ladies, declining the invitation is not an “easy choice”. 

Brady Loses At This Game

Apparently, Gisele had been hounding Brady for years to retire and spend more time with the family. She was delighted when Brady retired at the end of last season, but was enraged when he unretired just a few weeks later.

It appears Brady severely underestimated Gisele’s level of anger, and lost at the game of: How Mad Will She Get? I mean, yes, your wife will get mad, but you never want to make her mad enough to leave you.

Don, are you telling me that a guy with seven Super Bowl rings, the greatest quarterback ever, someone that can figure out how to defeat the Tampa 2 defensive scheme with an extra safety in the slot, just lost the How Mad Will She Get? game because he can’t figure out his wife? Yeah, because it doesn’t matter how experienced, intelligent and observant you are, you still can’t figure out your wife.

Brady Loses A Second Time

The other miscalculation Brady made was not accepting the fact that his skills had diminished. No true guy will admit they that can’t perform like they used to. They will believe in their man-brains that they are still 25 years-old but fail miserably and embarrassingly. It’s never pretty, always disappointing, and keeps orthopedic clinics in business. Brady is 45 years old and well past his prime. Gisele was correct, he should have stayed retired.

If you doubt this, Brady is rated the 16th best quarterback in the league, which is pathetic compared to his glory years. Of course, there is another important factor besides just age affecting things here. You see, Brady was married to Gisele for 13 years, and was accustomed to getting some, uh smokin’ hot … ah, some wet, @$$ … uh … some wang, dang, sweet, uh. Let’s just say he was used to getting some “Gisele”. Talk about having deflated balls! They were deflated and blue at the same time! When are used to getting some “Gisele” and then suddenly you are not getting any “Gisele” you ain’t going to be able to throw straight. It’s a wonder he can even throw at all! Too old and not getting any “Gisele”; Brady was doomed before he started his comeback.

Don Simply Explains It All

So there you have it, people. The divorce resulted from losing the: How Mad Will She Get? Game, which all husbands play. And Brady’s disappointing performance on the field is being caused by his age and having to play with severely deflated balls.

 

 

 

 

Working Hard On Retirement

My friend Don, the same name and age as me, didn’t feel like going to work one Monday, so he called off sick. The next day, he still didn’t feel like going to work, so he called off “retired”. Yep, just up and left. Wham, bam, thank you mammoth corporation, I’m outta here. Good for him!

He was not being irresponsible. He had just suffered a traumatic life event, and the nature of his job and the company was such that he would be missed as a person, but his quick departure did not put his company in a bind. And I envy him. I envy him so very, very much. Because retirement shouldn’t be complicated. It should be so simple, and it is for most people. But if you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you know I ain’t most people.

February 2020

I have a video meeting with the company president and the HR manager (they're located in Indiana) and inform them of my plan to retire on April 30, 2021. I intend to retire two years early to write full-time and publish more books. This retirement date was previously negotiated with my wife, who was initially afraid that I wanted to lounge around watching Netflix and eating Cheetos all day while she continued to work. But the plan was workable and fit perfectly with our personal situation. It was a great plan. Such a great plan. 

The people on the call were disappointed to hear the news but understood why I wanted to write full-time. In effect, I was giving them 14 months’ notice. Because my job involves specialized skills, they would take time to recruit, followed by several months of training. I gave them extended time so they would not be pressured and the transition would be smooth. I repeated several times during the meeting that the timeline was “very flexible” and could be easily changed if needed. Yes, flexible. Highly flexible. As flexible as a Russian gymnast! This was such a great plan. One of the best plans I have ever created.

March 2020

On Friday the 13^th , that things came to a stop in Ohio, and soon the entire nation. We done got coron-ned. Everything got shut down, and we masked up, sheltered in place, and wondered if we were all gonna die. It was hectic and stressful at work, and as the economy shut down, we had to put out economic and sales forecasts with virtually no reliable data. We expected that the virus would dissipate quickly – 15 Days To Slow The Spread! – but it just kept going and going, and the personal and work stress kept intensifying.

October 2020

Now it was October, I’m supposed to retire in six months, and with everything happening, I’m stressing big time. My company had banned corporate travel, and everyone in the home office was working from home. This meant the company couldn't recruit for my position nationwide. I realized there was a problem, so I called the HR manager and said I would be willing to extend my retirement, eight months, to December 31, 2021. The company was relieved they had more time to replace me and quickly agreed to my proposal.

Some of my friends thought I was a fool to do this, arguing that it was the company’s issue to deal with. Others said I did the right thing. I have been friends with my boss for 21 years, which includes 12 years before I went to work with him. So, this wasn’t just a business decision, and what would I do with more free time during a pandemic anyway?

December 2020

I get COVID so there was a chance I could die before I had a chance to retire. But it is a mild case which means I can keep moving toward by goal.

I’m still feeling lousy, when I get a call from the chief douchebag officer (the only douchebag who worked for the company, by the way) to give me my year-end work review. During the call he says condescending douchebagian voice, “Now, I don’t mind if you work until the end of 2021.” This angered me and I almost replied, “Oh yeah, well I just moved up, to let’s say NOW!” A variation of my friend Don’s technique. I just held my tongue and thought, “what an utter douchbag he is!”. Fortunately, the company disposed of the douchebag several months later (flushed him right out of the company), and surprisingly, I didn’t have a problem with that!

June 2021

It looked like the pandemic was ending and I was so excited! The company president announced to everyone that I was planning to retire at the end of the year. He told them the recruiting process would commence soon. Yes! It was public, baby! I was getting to retirement! I could see the light. Freedom was right there for the taking. Whooo! Whooo! Post that job, interview those candidates, extend that offer and soon – I’m outta here!!!! Do I want to retire? Indeed I do!

September 2021

In August, before the recruiting process gained any traction, we got coron-ned once again. Our big freight conference, which I thought would be my last big presentation, got canceled for the second year in a row. The company travel ban, which had been rescinded in May, was reactivated.

What to do now? Not an easy call. After much thought, I called the HR Manager and told her that the December 31, 2021 date was now a soft deadline. Yes, they could meet it if they wanted, but I knew they couldn’t. Once again, I expected the virus to fade and to end up retiring around March 31, 2022. The various COVID variants just kept making people sick, which meant recruiting for my replacement didn’t begin until January 2022.

April 2022

They hire my replacement, and training begins. Because we are this far into 2022, it makes sense for the company and me to have me do the presentations at our big conference in September and retire at the end of that month.

My replacement is a millennial. Now I know you have read about the work habits of this group and probably believe the claims have been greatly exaggerated. All I will say is that when the millennials are old enough to start taking positions of authority in the business world – YOU ARE ALL SO SCREWED. I say you because I am now retired and fortunately, I probably won’t live long enough to watch them muck it all up. 

September 2022

I gave my final presentations at the conference and said my painful goodbyes. I wrapped up everything in the last two weeks of the month and actually edited a report on my final day. Yes, I was able to retire on September 30, 2022. Just 17 months late, after two delays. I’m not sure if I would have been ready to retire in April 2021, but I am really ready now!

Now

Yes, it feels good to be retired. Fortunately, my blood pressure dropped significantly soon after I stopped having to train the millennial. And I am so glad I was able to retire when the stock market is doing so well. I am not lounging around doing nothing as my wife once feared, however, I must say that those new Cheetos flavors are rather tasty, I do admire the wisdom of Judge Judy, and some of those Netflix documentaries are very educational.