Candy Bars

SOB Translation of the Day

Quote: “Please help kids go to camp by purchasing a candy bar on the honor system.”

Translation: “Please help yourself to some complimentary candy bars, like you did with Benny’s two 6-inch Subways.”

I found a great way to get through the day. There’s a cute girl that walks into the building at the same time every afternoon. Oh, and she never wears a bra.

Today was the third day I waited for her on the sidewalk. Jackpot! She wore a sleek little black number, and you would’ve thought it was 30 degrees outside.

Sue Ellen Mishke, the braless Oh Henry! candy bar heiress.

– Seinfeld: Scene from The Contest.

– Seinfeld: Scene from The Caddy.

Someone asked me today why I don’t have a picture of my girlfriend in my cubicle. Well, for starters, I don’t have a girlfriend. But more importantly – I’m a grown-up.

Don’t get me wrong. I understand why married people surround themselves with pictures of their family at work – especially when they have kids.

But if you’re a single guy, leave the photographs at home. And Holy Moses don’t use a picture of your sweetie pie as your computer background. The last thing you need during a sales presentation is your prospect remembering the night he banged your girlfriend at a Sig Chi mixer.

You know I ain’t complainin’. Just tryin’ to understand. What makes a woman do the things she does.

Guy peeing in gas tank

Getting baseball scores is so easy today

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Someone ate the rest of my sandwich I put in the refrigerator today.


That’s fine. I’m more than happy to play their game.

I’m going to Subway again tomorrow, and ordering a footlong Cold Cut Combo. I’ll eat half of it at my desk. Then I’ll take the other half into the restroom, where it will be subjected to every fluid I can pee, poop or pull from my body.

I will neatly wrap the sandwich, and put it into the refrigerator.

And yes, I’ll wash my hands after I add the condiments. Geez…I don’t want you to think I’m disgusting, or anything.

SOB Translation of the Day

Quote: “Yo’ this san’ich be tastin’ all funkdafied and shit.”

Translation: “This sandwich taste like ass.”

Update: After running my idea by Mr. O, he suggested I put a laxative in the sandwich instead. That makes more sense. What was I thinking? I can’t put something in the refrigerator that’s touched my balls.

You’re the victim here. Besides, body fluids are what you use to decorate your furniture.

I’m glad I called.

Me too.

Don’t think me unkind. Words are hard to find.

Vegiie Tray with extra E. coli

This was my lunch today. I swear the broccoli contained E. coli, or something – because I spent the afternoon in the bathroom shittin’ like a hack horse.

I called Issac to meet for lunch but he had already eaten. Here’s our conversation over the Instant Messenger this afternoon. Keep in mind that Issac recently reminded me they monitor the IM.

How was lunch?

Stupid. I think the broccoli was bad. I’ve been in the bathroom a few times.

Sounds like pretty good material for tonight’s post.

I’m not familiar with anything you are talking about. Who is this?

Me neither.

Have you ever ran the dishes through a cycle without soap – because some of them needed to be rinsed off – and you didn’t feel like doing it?

Me neither.

SOB Translation of the Day

Quote: “I be freezin’ up in herre.”

Translation: “I am cold.”

Stupidity Tax Offense: Changing your email font and color to some crazy shit that’s impossible to read. Cha Ching! – $10.

Work or not – I will not reply to an email written in cursive with a lilac background.

Well I love her. But I love the fish. I spend all day out on this lake. And hell is all I catch.

Doggie Wink

My smart phone is stupid.

I tried using the voice recognition feature while driving to work this morning.

“Call Red,” I said.

“Lemonheads,” replied the female voice.


I had to listen to It’s a Shame About Ray four times before I made it to QuikTrip.

I went to lunch with Issac today. Here’s our conversation on the way back.

You interested in playing a little golf?

Hell to the yeah. Let’s get Crowe Dog and Tommy T-Tone. We can play Crystal Springs down by Creve Coeur Lake.

Man, I probably just want to play nine the first time out.

I’ve got this thing about playing only nine holes. You know I’ve got to finish what I started. I’m Mr. Project.


Why would you only want to play nine holes, anyway?

I’d probably be too pissed off to play after that.

Isn’t that what the beer cart is for?


What if you paid for the front nine, and Obama paid for the back nine.


Then we argued about politics the rest of the way. I still don’t know how we’re friends. Oh…beer.

SOB Translation of the Day

Quote: “Gurl, y’all goin’ to have to show me dat.”

Translation: “If it’s not too much trouble, could you show me how to do that?”

I come in last night about half past ten. That baby of mine wouldn’t let me in.

Self Portrait

I got this sweet sun reflector at the eye doctor this morning. My eyes are dilated, and I’m heading to the strip club later.

Check out the note that someone left above the mailboxes at Melrose Place. I didn’t take this fucker’s DVD, but I bet it was the old Korean neighbor. I mean, the guy once hijacked my beer koozie, so I’m sure he would appreciate a complimentary movie.

I took my phone to Sprint yesterday because it wasn’t sending emails from my Yahoo! and SOB accounts. The technician walked out and axed, “Have you tried deleting the accounts in the phone, and then reinstalling them?”

“Of course. I’m not Steve Jobs, but I’m not an idiot either,” I told her.

“Who is Steve Jobs?”

“Never mind.”

“Well, you need to talk to your IT department because they’ll need to look at it.”

“They’re in India. I’ll figure it out.”

So, I went back to work, and searched the internet for a possible solution. I found out the issue was with Windows Mobile 6.1. I downloaded a cab file from the website, and the problem was fixed in ten seconds.

However, I didn’t realize that I had over 20 emails sitting in the Outbox. Within minutes I started receiving replies from people asking why I was sending messages about things that happened weeks ago.

I just ignored them. People think I’m crazy anyway.

The Sprint Tech reminded me of the IT people I have to deal with when I have problems with my internet connection.

“Mr. Benny, can you please make sure your computer is plugged in,” is always the first thing I hear.

“Wow. That was it. I’m so stupid. Thanks for your help, Hadji.”

SOB Translation of the Day

Quote: “We can’t be together because we fight all the time.”

Translation: “We can’t be together because you bitch at me all the time.”

I thought I was doin’ fine. ‘Bout to get you off my mind. I see your face, and then I’m wrapped around your pretty little finger again.

The Clinton Culinary Combo Kitchen Tool Set
The Clinton Culinary Combo Kitchen Tool Set

I hate having to remember so many passwords. I have seven just at work. They are all different, and they all have different requirements. 6-14 characters, upper/lower case, special characters like “!,@,#,$<%,^,&,*”…

Not to mention they have to be changed every “X” number of days.

But I came up with a good way to deal with the Help Desk whenever I forget a password. They usually ask a series of security questions like:

  1. What is your maternal mother’s name?
  2. What grade school did you attend?
  3. What was the name of your first dog?

But I noticed a new question a few months ago – “Who would you most like to meet?”

My answer? – “Your mom.”

This worked like a charm today when I had to deal with an IT woman in India.

“I need to ask you a few security questions,” she asked.

“No problem,” I replied.

“What was your first car?”

“A 1979 Chevy Monza. I lost my virginity in the back seat.”


“Chevy Monza.”

“What was the name of your first dog?”


“Who would you most like to meet?”

“Your mom.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your mom. Just type it in.”

I heard a few keystrokes and then, “How can I help you today?”

This Day in Benny History

1995: Drove to KC

1997: PM – Walk/jog to YMCA, 2 circuits @ 12, walk/jog home, 2 Abs @ 15

1998: PM – YMCA – 5 min. Stairmaster, 15 min. cycle, 1 circuit @ 12, 5 min. cycle

2000: AM – 3 mi. walk/jog

2002: Kiah had surgery to remove tumor. She spent night at vet. And died a few months later. What a jip!

2001: Drove home from KC with Drunkie Drunk. She wanted to stop by a winery on the way home. Shocker.

2003: 3.5 mi. run

2004: Drank beers and Zimas with Mr. and Mrs. O. The night we ran out of beer.

2005: Red in town – lunch at Trainwreck. Night – TJ, Red, Niro (and kids), G-Man, Matt M at my place

2006: Pool in afternoon. Night – Bush stadium to watch Royals beat the Cards 7-6. Jake’s Leg at Broadway Oyster Bar after. Sweet.

2007: 6:30 AM – drove home from KC after spending Saturday night at cousin’s wedding

2008: Judge excused me from jury duty after deliberations began. Hang the bastard.

SOB Translation of the Day

Quote: Man, I can’t wait ta git out o’ werk taday. These people be trippin’.

Translation: I am ready to go home. The customers are getting on my nerves.

Things that make me say WTF?

Protesters marched in front of the Illinois State Capital yesterday holding signs that read, “Do your job! Raise taxes!”

Who in the shit wants their taxes raised?

Oh, probably people that have the time to march around the state capital on a Tuesday afternoon.

Welcome to your life. There’s no turning back.

Tim Johnson strikes again.

Happy Facebook Friday

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I want to give a shout out to the driver of the hotel airport shuttle that drove my drunk ass home last night. I was in no shape to walk after Parties in the Plaza – especially when I was carrying an extra-large pepperoni pie.

Best thing I ever did, Clark.

I was talking on the phone with a friend today. It had been a while since we last spoke, so we were talking about his kids.

“What’s your daughter’s name?” I asked.

“Presley,” he replied.

“What’s your son’s name?”


“Geez, what did you name your dog – Bono?”

I received an email earlier this week from a vice-president. It was probably sent to a few hundred people. Some numb nut ass-kisser replied to all, and asked a stupid question.

The VP sent another email to everyone, and wrote, “Please don’t reply to all.”

I replied to all, and wrote, “Okay.”

I think my chances for advancement are dwindling.

SOB Translation of the Day

Quote: “I be on that plan that the government pays fo.”

Translation: “I’m using taxpayer money to pay my rent.”

I got a haircut yesterday from the same Indian (customer support; not casino) that cut it the last time. I distinctly remember her because (a) she took frickin’ forever, and (b) she hummed some whacky Hindu song in my ear the entire time.

I swear I can’t understand a word she is saying. Yesterday, she was yapping something about scissors and clippers. I was in a hurry, so I just pointed to the clippers.

I now look like Sergeant Hulka.

Hello I’m sorry, I lost myself. I think I thought you were someone else.

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