I was able to fix the alignment issue with the Facebook widget in the left sidebar. The solution was pretty straight forward.

I just changed the left and right margin values for the .sidebars li class in the CSS file.

Old

.sidebars li {
list-style-image: none;
margin: 0 0 15px 25px;
<?php if ($ie): ?>
margin: 10px 0 15px 20px;
<?php endif; ?>

New

.sidebars li {
list-style-image: none;
margin: 0 5px 15px 5px;
<?php if ($ie): ?>
margin: 10px 0 15px 20px;
<?php endif; ?>

I knew that would fix the the problem because the width of the Facebook widget is 200 pixels and the sidebar is 210 pixels.

But I’m boring you with stuff you already knew.

The widget can actually provide a live feed from my Facebook posts. It works fine in Firefox but IE has issues reading JavaScript.

I have no idea what I’m talking about.

So I spoke with my ex-girlfriend for the first time in over a week today. We discussed things I need to work on. I’ll write more on that in a minute.

I didn’t come away from the conversation with any false hope of getting back together. I think she is tired of my shit, which is a shame – because she’s my girl.

But maybe if we work on my shortcomings as a group, we’ll win her back. Think of this as a Narcotics Anonymous meeting, without having to sit next to a bunch of potheads.

I don’t clean up after myself
On the surface, this seems like a pretty easy fix. I just need to start picking up my shit, right?

Well, there’s a history here. Most of the history involves me doing a half-ass job of cleaning, and then leaving the rest for someone else to finish.

I can’t do anything about the past. But I understand what she’s saying.

I would love to get another chance to clean puke out of her carpet. I swear it would look like Stanley Steamer had been there.

I’m irresponsible
I’m a middle-aged man living in a basement apartment. I own three cars that could sell tomorrow for a concert ticket and a case of beer. I use too many sick days.

I get it.

Sure, I’ve been living a certain way for years. But that doesn’t mean I can’t change.

Geez…I want her to be proud of me. That makes this one the priority. She’s not perfect but she’s got her shit together. It’s time I do the same.

I’m immature
Am not.

This is a toughie. I like movies like Dumb and Dumber. I laugh at farts. I like waking her up with a mushroom stamp to the forehead.

I don’t see this changing a lot. I mean, maybe I could tone it down a bit – watch more movies like The Notebook – no more dutch ovens – make sure she’s awake before smacking her in the head with my man member.

That would be a start.

That’s all I’ve got tonight. Thanks for listening.

I know you wanna leave me, but I refuse to let you go. If I have to beg, plead for sympathy. I don’t mind, ’cause it means that much to me.

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.”

“What?”

“Chevy Monza.”

“What was the name of your first dog?”

“Buttons.”

“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 we 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.

There’s nothing like following the weekend with a 12-hour workday.

Sweet.

I watched the Preakness on Saturday with Tim F and TMShay. I call her that because she would rather spot celebrities than the only speed in a five furlong claiming race at Evangeline.

My record for picking winners in Triple Crown races isn’t exactly stellar.

Really?

I mean, I had Big Brown in last year’s Preakness. He paid $2.40 to win. 

Wow, nice pick. 

And I had Rags to Riches in the 2007 Belmont. She paid $10.60.

Call me Butter because I’m on a roll.

Here are my picks for this year’s Belmont on June 6th.

Exacta Wheel – All/All

Grab a cold one and hope that long shots finish first and second.

Joe Biden is the best. Sure, he’s against using waterboarding as a technique to obtain secrets. And why not? All he needs is a dinner and an audience to give it up.

Drink – I said give it up.

Things that make me say WTF? 

I don’t mean for this to sound racist. But have you ever seen a group of Mexican men hovered around an ATM?

They stand there watching their buddy withdrawal money like he’s playing a video game.

And it takes him 10 minutes to complete the transaction, even when the language is in Spanish.

I feel a hot wind on my shoulder. And the touch of a world that is older.

The Bedroom (after)

A bunch of friends went to the racetrack tonight. It’s probably a good thing I didn’t go. I just checked the post times, and the fifth race is about to go off. That’s usually the time I start borrowing money.

Look what Benny did today!

1. Finished cleaning the bedroom
2. Picked up empty beer can and spit cup I left next to the sofa last night
3. Took empty boxes to recycle dumpster
4. Vacuumed

Chico has some lame ass vacuum cleaner that looks like something you would carry in the glove compartment. I have a commercial Oreck that sucks harder than the chick I took to G’s Christmas Party in the 90’s.

Inside joke.

There’s just one problem with my vacuum – it doesn’t work every time.

One day, I asked Chico why he wasn’t using my Oreck. “It doesn’t even turn on when you flick the switch,” he said.

“Well, sometimes I don’t either. But when I do, it’s magic for the ladies.”

He still uses the car vac.

Things that make me say WTF?

People that post on Facebook every Friday saying how happy they are the weekend is finally here.

No shit? What – you think someone on your friend list is going to write, “Damn, the weekend’s here already? I wish it was Monday. I hate fun.”

SOB Tribute to Facebook Fridays

I got sick of my job, sick of my wife. Sick of my future and sick of my life. I packed up my car and I got some gas. And told everybody they could kiss my ass.

 
My new Palm Pilot

Mr. O and I collaborated on my debut Country and Western album over the weekend. Here are the titles we’ve come up with so far:

1. I Got a DUI on the Way to Get My IUD
2. Hungover (and Horny)
3. Get in the Truck, Bitch
4. My Smart Phone is Stupid
5. This Light Beer is Getting Heavy

All we need now are a few more titles, a recording studio, and a bunch of down on their luck musicians that won’t mind playing for beer.

Things that make me say WTF?

Spending hundreds of thousands of taxpayer dollars to fly Air Force One with two F-16’s in tow over Ground Zero so you can have a new souvenir picture. And before the operation, telling law enforcement agencies not to leak the information to the media.

Geez, I would’ve have Photoshopped the MF’er for a new laptop and a 30-pack of Bud Light.

- Air Force One photo-op flyover in NYC causes panic.

Ground Control to Major Tom. Take your protein pills and put your helmet on.

 
D: Final Answer

Everything was going fine with my taxes last night. I entered my lone W-2, and TurboTax was displaying a modest refund. Then I entered a 1099, and watched the refund disappear faster than a Bernie Madoff hedge fund.

I did a little math this morning, and calculated that I need to sell 1,100 SOB Koozies to cover the amount I owe to the IRS.

Get yours today!

Seriously, I’m not that worried. I still have a bottle of Jim Beam – and two days for my lottery numbers to hit.

If you follow The Summer of Benny on Twitter or Facebook, I’ll send the following secret phrase if my numbers come in: Giddy up.

Things that make me say WTF?

Sending text messages to an ex-boyfriend/girlfriend after your relationship has run its course.

I don’t think there’s ever been a technology that’s caused more problems in relationships than text messages.

Just ask Chris Brown.

My advice is this: You had your chance. You probably fucked up. So, move on.

Some folks are born silver spoon in hand. Lord, don’t they help themselves. But when the tax man comes to the door. Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale.

Here are three things that I’ve moved for years. Not only am I not moving them again – they’re going in the dumpster tonight.

Besides, they all come with a story I probably need to forget. And by story, I mean girl.

Below are brief descriptions of how I acquired each item (left to right).

I got this little beauty in 2002 when I was staying at the Rio in Las Vegas with Drunkie Drunk. I think it was filled with a Pina Colada or something.

Anyway, we passed out shortly after Medaglia d’Oro finished 8th in the Preakness. I had a sizable win wager in play, but Bailey didn’t have enough horse after the quick fractions.

But I’m telling you something you already know.

Doggie Style gave me this sterling silver flask before our trip to Hawaii in 1996.

This chick liked doing it doggie style so much, I swear she hiked her leg on the toilet.

Ah, the highly coveted Hurricane glass from Pat O’Brien’s in New Orleans. I can’t remember the girl’s name, but she was my first fluff.

Since that night, I’ve kept a list in a journal I call, “The Girls That Fluffed Me.”

Things that make me say WTF?

Banging a girl when your roommate is in the next room, and not making any effort to keep the noise down.

I mean, this practice is completely acceptable when you’re in college.

“Hey dude, did you hear me spanking that chick’s ass last night?” is a commonly heard phrase in fraternity houses all across this great country of ours.

But if you’re over 30 years old, cram a pillow in her mouth.

Jerry, this is the way society functions. Aren’t you a part of society? Because if you don’t want to be a part of society, Jerry, why don’t you just get in your car and move to the East Side!

I don’t know. But I’ve been told. If you keep on dancing. You’ll never grow old. Come on darling. Put a pretty dress on. We’re gonna go out tonight.