The different ways people come up with to haul mattresses. 

I don’t have a problem with the way people haul around their mattresses these days.  I see people strapping them on top of their cars in order to move them from point A to point B.  I also see them sticking out the back of pickup boxes.  I don’t have any problem with either scenario.  The problem I see is what happens if it falls off the top of your car or out the back of your pick up?  Bungee straps break, give way and can become overstretched.   I just want people to make sure they’ve thought it through before traveling on our roads.  I’d hate to see a mattress in the middle of the road where a semi has no choice but to flatten it leaving skids marks.  You can cover up cum and piss stains, but you can’t hide rubber.  That shit smells and you can’t get rid of it.

I had to haul a mattress once on the top of my friends 1993 Cutlass Sierra.   That’s a good vehicle and I was grateful for the help.  I don’t own a car.  I ride a 10-speed bicycle and work as a telemarketing professional.  I doubt I will ever be able to own a car, but if I did, I wouldn’t hesitate to haul a mattress on the top of it.  I wouldn’t need a truck because I just have a single bed with no frame.  The mattress itself has a big stain in the center.  I’m not sure what kind of substance made the stain.  All I know is I didn’t do it.  It was on there when I got it.  The box spring is often crawling with ants.  I think I left some cheese near the window one night and ever since the ants have been ruthless.  

What I’m really stressing here is haul your mattress anyway you want.  Just take care and make sure you have it strapped down firm.  Having three of your buddies holding it down with the arms out the windows isn’t going to cut it.  Using yarn or twine to fasten the mattress won’t work either.  You gotta have bungeecords or a ratcheting strap or you’ll be sorry.

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DAILY RANT  Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Fountain pop.  To follow up on my coffee rant from Monday, I will reveal that I am a fountain pop junkie.  Bottled pop and canned pop just don’t cut it.  I will only drink them if I have no access to fountain pop.  I have been this way my entire life.  I am a borderline addict.

In addition to fountain pop being much cheaper, and getting much more soda for your buck, it is also most times much better tasting.  A good fountain pop is much like the art of wine tasting.  Two things can go wrong with fountain pops, either too much water is in the mix, or too much syrup.  Too much water results in a soda tasting like Kool Aid, and too much syrup results in a soda tasting much like a thick unexplainable viscous substance.  However, most times, the retards working at convenience stores get the mix right and Kloob is happy.  This wasn’t so much of a rant as a proclamation of my love affair with fountain pop.  The readers need to know.

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DAILY RANT  Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Jerry gets a new job.  When I stare at myself naked in front of the mirror in the morning, I can’t believe how goofy looking I am.  Does anyone think I’m attractive?  Why would anyone love me?  Will anyone give me a shot?  With my tank top on, my hair combed and a smiley face on, I face the world each day asking those deeply personal questions.  

Imagine my surprise when I got a call last week from Schrilton Wadams & Associates offering me a job as a telemarketer.  I couldn’t believe it, I’ve been a cook at the uptown diner for 12 ½ years.  I never thought I would work myself out of those despicable circumstances.  I made it, I finally got that office job my dad coveted so much and told me I could never achieve.

When you’re a cookie at the local greasy spoon you don’t have much contact with professionals.  My first day was hard. I was up all night stressing.  How will I do, will people like me?  I also recorded in my journal this passage, “The more I dress up the goofier I look.”  So I wore my black tank top and white pants to my first day at my new telemarketing job because that’s who I am and that’s what I know.

My first day was tough.  I’ve never seen so many people in one cramped office.  Cubicles everywhere, people talking away trying to sell everything from extended warranties to identity fraud insurance.  Will I make it?  It’s not important.  What’s important is they said I could wear my black tank top and white pants. 

Jerry Goldstein 3-11-08

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DAILY RANT  Wednesday, March 5, 2008

I ate at McDonald’s for lunch today. I knew it was a mistake when I walked there, I knew it was a mistake when I ordered, paid and took my sack of food back to my office. What I didn’t realize is that the geniuses at the food court McDonald’s failed to include my #10 Value Meal French Fries. I should have known to look in the bag before I left but getting out of the transient infested food court area without being hassled was my first priority. Why didn’t I smell the fries or question the weight of my food sack-I DON’T KNOW! I just know I paid $7.43 (thanks rising food costs) for 3 Chicken Strips, 1 hamburger (a late addition), 2 honey mustards and a germ ridden handful of ketchup packets. Can some one tell me when a value meal at McDonald’s went over 6 bones? On the positive, by not eating the (absent) medium order of fries, I probably saved myself 400 calories, a premature heart attack and another bout of rancid fart stench. So I guess it worked out in my favor. Thanks Asian Mexican man behind the McDonald’s counter.

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DAILY RANT  Tuesday, March 4, 2008

People in awkward situations: kinda awkward versus uncomfortable awkward.

Sometimes finding people in awkward situations is funny and enjoyable because no one is harmed.  For instance, when Japs come to America to visit they often find our culture amusing.  When you see a Japanese person with a camera pointing and giggling and pointing and giggling they stumbled upon something awkward, strange and even funny.  This circumstance could be anything from a silly dog they do not understand to a skinny white man riding a 10 speed bike slowly up a hill while wearing teal spandex and a tank top.  Let’s take that same Jap and put them in a shopping mall video arcade setting.  Staring down a sweaty American teenager engaged in a Dance Dance Revolution danceoff this Jap is caught up with the intensity of the battle.  The first thing the Jap does is pull out a digital camera to capture these odd circumstances.  Odd, peculiar American teenagers, what are they doing?  Dancing on an arcade machine that you built asshole, that’s what they’re doing.  How is that so god damn amusing?  The guy tossed a Frisbee and his dog went and caught it...end of story.  That’s not amusing, that’s not funny.  You know what’s funny?

Cramming 300 million people onto a chain of islands the size of…Japan.  That’s not funny, that’s fucking complicated!

On the other hand, you have uncomfortably awkward circumstances such as 2 people beating each other senselessly in public.  Awkwardly throwing super fast punches at each other.  Shoving, biting, twisting, body slamming.  That’s very awkward and highly uncomfortable.  I hate that, it pisses me off.    

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DAILY RANT  Thursday, February 28, 2008

Smelly Toxic Farts.  This isn’t so much of a rant as it is a public service announcement.

I am hear to tell you today, if you eat 3 eggs (over medium), 3 strips of bacon, 1 English muffin, hashbrown potatoes, and baked beans (it’s an English thing, you wouldn’t understand) and wash it down with 2 cups of coffee for a Saturday morning breakfast, you are in store for the rottenest farts this side of Jersey.

You’d be dead wrong if you thought these farts would pass in a few hours…or even after a dump. You’d be even more wrong if you thought they’d run their course and be out of your system by Sunday. You’d even be wrong to think they’d be gone by Monday.

Folks, if you have smelt an overpowering sewer gas/sulfuric stench in the air the past 64+ hours (regardless of your current geographic location), I’m here to lay claim to it. I’ve already frightened away my children and turned my wife to wearing a dust mask around the house. This isn’t a joke. If you love your family, don’t eat the above breakfast menu if you want to avoid solitude for 3 days straight.

These stinky putrid farts can come in any variety: Bass tones, squeakers, buck snorts, silent (rarely), rumblers, boisterous trumpeters, boofers, rippers, frurps, blampfs, or even the fabled Barn Owl fart.

You’ve been warned.

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DAILY RANT  Wednesday, February 20, 2008

If you or someone you know is a service technician at a Car Dealership, then let me start by saying, “sorry.” This isn’t meant to be a personal attack. In fact most car dealership mechanics are good people; honest, hard working and fair. However, I believe the policies of car dearlerships and their service department are appalling and make good people make bad decisions to keep their jobs.

Last year our vehicle needed a standard oil change. Because we had received a discount coupon from a local dealership, we opted to use it. Hey $14.99 for an oil change and interior vacuum is unbeatable (especially when your minature van floor is caked in cheerios and fruit snacks).

Soon I realzed I had entered a situation that was to be the bain of my automotive existance. 

I was paged to the service department after helping myself to complimentary fountain pop (big mistake). The mechanic stated my van had a coolant issue and needed a new head gasket-$800 and the car would be ready in 2 days. After intital shock I incohertanly agreed (a misake I will never make again) and 45 minutes later, we were out the door in a purple loaner Chev Equinox.

To make a long story short, the repairs ended over $1150 and we ended up having to replace the water pump just 10 days later. Cocienidence? I think not. Needless to say I had a shouting match with the a-hole dealership manager and service manager regarding labor hours worked (not listed in detail on the bill) and the fact that they performed 2 diagnostic tests withough my authorization ($50 a pop). Though those were evenutally waived, I left this particular Chevy dealership (located in Monticello and visable from I-94) feeling completely helpless, angry and $1000 less wealthy. In fact, this incident so scarred me, we ended up trading the van within 2 months to eascape the bad service memories. I wrote several compliant letters to the dealership owner but was never once replied to or acknowledged.

So the morale of this story, NEVER utilize a dealership service department for repairs (outside of warranty). Even if you must get your oil changed at a dealership, decline ANY repair work they recommend. Not only will you pay double, but you’re a**hole will experience much pain and damage in the process. Dealerships are in the business of screwing you on service costs under the guise of “Factory Trained Technicians” and “Factory Quality” parts. In fact, most of their mechanics are 19 and big into Everclear and their parts come from Napa like any mechanics.

So now when my vehicles are in need of service or repairs I opt for the small-town mechanics or friends of my mechanically inclined father-in-law.

Don’t be like the a**hole in the above picture with his arm behind his back waiting to spend $1,900 on his F-150 for an un-needed tie-rod replacement and brake job at his local dealership. He doesn’t even know what’s about to hit him….you can. Stay away!

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DAILY RANT  Monday, February 18, 2008

Minnesota winter.  I love Minnesota, but this winter has started to test my love.  It was 35 degrees on Saturday, and now this morning on my 15-minute Interstate drive in to work it is now -10, with a -30+ windchill.  My car hates me for starting it, my dog hates me for making it go outside to piss, my body hates me for dragging it around in this sh!t.  Woe is me.  I understand I could have much bigger problems, but this is getting ridiculous.

I feel like somewhat of a hypocrite because I always proudly tell people I hate 80+ weather (and will bitch incessantly), but you will never hear me bitch about cold weather.  My reasoning for this is that cold weather keeps the lazy, shitty trashy people out.  In other words, it keeps the welfare people out.  They do not like cold weather.  Anything under 30 degrees is too cold to sit outside and drink a 40, smoke a joint, or simply polish off three packs of cigarettes a day.  God forbid, firing up the 1986 Dodge Caravan, packing up the four kids from three fathers and driving to the Market to purchase steaks with your EBT card in this weather.

This weather has wore me down however, because the temps have been hot and cold like a mad bitch in her menstrual cycle.  You never know what you are going to get.  One day it’s 30+, the next day it is -5.  The thing about -20 degree weather is that you can literally die in minutes if outside too long.  You need a good battery on your vehicle.  If nothing else, you can lose digits if not dressed properly.  Nothing like a good case of gangrene to top off the winter. 

Sorry for the bitch session, but I am officially ready for winter to be over.  Give me 55 degrees everyday, and I am a happy tard.  It doesn’t get any better than steady sweatshirt weather.

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DAILY RANT  Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Tech Support

Most of my job is really enjoyable but the job minus the enjoyment leaves tech support on the other side of the equal sign.  For a select few of our customers, they take the phrase “tech support” to mean “adult baby sitting”. 

“Hi, this is Josh.” 

“Hi, Josh.  This is <customer> from <agency> and I have a question.”

“Sure, <customer>.  What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’ve got this flashing light at the bottom of my screen.  I just keeps flashing.  How can I turn it off?”

“Can you describe it to me?  What does it look like?”

“Well, it sort of looks like two computers connected and like I said, it keeps flashing.”

“Uh huh…. That’s the icon for your network connection.  The flashing means that you’re connected.”

“How can I turn it off?”

“Well, you either have to disconnect from your network or go to your system tray properties and remove it.”

“How do I do that?!?”

And so on and so on…

First point.  I don’t work for Microsoft.  I work for a company that makes software that runs on Microsoft.  Second point.  I don’t give a shit that you are stupid and don’t know how a computer works.  Third point.  Tech support for us means you call if you have a question or problem with our software.  You just wasted 30 minutes of my time talking you through something any 14 year old knows.  Do you call up Jimmy Dean sausage company for information on how your stove top works?  No.  So stop calling me because you’re a lazy son of a bitch…and stupid…and probably fat.

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DAILY RANT  Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Pull tabs.  These things are the curse of the whitetrash all across rural Minnesota.  I haven’t had as much time in the past couple of years to frequent the local pubs, but when do I get the chance to visit, the pull tab phenomena is still going strong.  If you don’t know what a pull tab is you’re lucky.  A pulltab is like a acratch-off lottery ticket, only instead of scratching off that crusty gray matter, you just pull on the paper tabs to reveal the pictures underneath. If three of the pictures match, you win money. They are very popular in dive bars and rural podunk towns.

Here’s the scenario:  45-year old factory-employed, chain-smoking lady is belly up to the bar.  What is she doing?  Now that she can’t smoke inside (a rant coming soon), she is neck deep in pulltabs.  She is furiously opening these things as fast as she can get her nicotine-stained hands on them.  I think to myself, does she know something I don’t?  Is there a hot jar with some ripe, big winners on the verge of being pulled?  Of course not!  It’s all a major scam designed to keep the poor folk poor.

Let’s name our 45 year old lady Linda.  Linda just got off of her shift at the local plastic factory, and is now five minutes later sitting at the local bar.  She downs about five Bud Lights, intermingled with ten smoke breaks outside, and now has a good buzz on.  She eyes the pulltab booth she has been trying so hard to avoid looking at, and thinks “I really shouldn’t play tabs tonight, I lost my ass the last 138 times I played.”  She quickly looks away and polishes off her sixth beer.  Too late, she is on her way over, thinking “I will just play $20 worth, if I lose, I quit.”  Three minutes later, with a $2 winner in her hand, she is marching back up to redeem two more tickets.  “What the hell she thinks, the jar has a lot of big winners left, I’ll throw $40 in with this $2 winner.”  Flash forward ten minutes.  Linda sits milking her seventh beer holding two $2 winners.  Things are spiraling out of control.  This is when the prudent person would chalk it up to bad luck and quit.  Not Linda.  She is enticed by the two $2 winners to keep going.  Besides, she has invested so much into the jar now, that she has to see it through.

Flash forward two hours.  Linda has now spent $320, and won a grand total of $14.  The jar has definitely been reduced in size, and the big winners are still left.  She is determined to get that $200 or $300 winner to salvage some of her hard-earned factory working cash.

Here is where Keith Kloob walks in.  I’m out on the town for a beer with my lovely wife, and decide what the heck, “Honey, let’s play $20 in pulltabs, that one jar looks ripe!”  She reluctantly agrees, and I march up and buy $20 worth of tabs.  I give ten to my wife, and I keep ten.  You have to understand, we never spend more than $20 a time on tabs, and that is about twice a year, because we both know it is a giant waste of $.  It’s just that sometimes it’s fun to roll the dice and hope for a big winner off of that $20 investment.  The odds are not good, but sometimes it does happen.  Well, it just so happens I unknowingly pull a $250 winner from Linda’s jar, and you had better believe she knows it.  Instant evil daggers shoot my way from this hard-working wench.  I don’t notice it right away, but in a small pub it doesn’t take long.  Great.  Now I can be uncomfortable all night.  Perfect way to spend the evening!  Every time I walk by this modular home-living man-dyke I hear slurred cussing aimed my way.  Sweet!  It eventually gets old enough that I should leave, but I just love tormenting this wretched lady, so I stay a bit longer.

The point is that pulltabs are evil.  I have seen many a poor person spend their entire paycheck in a matter of hours on these horrible little creations.  Figure a person drops $600 one night on these (which happens, believe me), and wins $200 back.  That was well worth it!  The funny thing is that after losing all night to the tune of $600, when they do finally pull that $200 winner they are ecstatic (I’m sure the 16 beers help)!  Talk about mind warpage.  These things are evil.  The rush of pulling that $200 winner makes them forget the other $400 they needed for groceries to feed their six kids at home in the modular!  Unbelievable.  I think these things should be banned, way before cigarettes.  They do way more harm than good.

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DAILY RANT  Monday, February 4, 2008
8 keys to a successful dump.

1. Fiber.  Can’t stress that enough, any butt doctor will tell you, regular and good bowel movements depend on fiber intake.  25 grams a day!
2. Ventilation.  For all of you “shit don’t stinkers” out there, it does.  It smells like shit.  Unless you have a genetic defect, no one likes to sit in your own stink.  Turn on the fan before you begin.  Don’t wait until after you’re done.  That defeats the purpose of the fan.  To ventilate.
3. Quality paper.  Number one cause of dingle berries is lint from fuzzy toilet paper.  Chicks like the fuzzy stuff but stay away from it.  It’s nothing but trouble.  Look for something in the quilted variety but not anything fuzzy.  Dingle berries are petty disgusting and preventable.
4. Reading material.  I read books but any magazine will suffice.  Bring it in before so it’s already there waiting for you.  It sucks trying to find that book or mag when you really have to take a crap.  If you forget you’re stuck there reading a shampoo bottle or Lysol can, that buys you a minute tops.
5. Comfortable seat.  Seats range in price from $10 - $50.  The most expensive isn’t always the most comfortable.  Stay away from padded seats, they usually just wind up cutting off the circulation in your legs and leave this freaky welt on your ass and thighs that won’t go away for several minutes
6. Don’t go in public if you can help it.  Ever crap at an airport?  It’s the most disgusting place on earth.  Everyone holds it during their flight and then they rush to the shitter as soon as the get off the plane.  The result?  Every stall filled to capacity with everyone shitting in unison.  The smell and noise is a major distraction and I believe it also takes time off of your life.
7. Avoid eating large amounts of beets.  If you don’t believe me, eat a whole can of beets, I dare you.
8. Finally, if you think you’re done wiping, wipe again.  No one will judge you on your wipe count.  This will help prevent itchy asshole, a common symptom of a forgotten wipe.

Happy pooping! 

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