I'm funny in Brazil but not Switzerland

Today I had to hire someone to help me figure out what SQL is. I still don't really know what it is. So, I went online to a website that specializes in freelance computer people.

I figured I would send a few of them messages and see if I got any response. Within minutes I had about 10 people wanting to help me. Two of them were from Brazil and three were from Switzerland. And because I use humor to break the ice in all situations...I tried to be as friendly and funny as humanly possible. It was a veritable orgy of haha's and lol's. They asked me questions about what kind of project it was and even told me what the weather was there - even though I totally didn't ask them! The orgy ended when I went over to the Switzerland side of things.

Fuck those cute dogs with alcohol around their necks. These people were like Heidi's grandfather before he decided to stop being a douche.

Me: I am looking for someone to help finish up some code a friend of mine wrote for his game. It's SQL and I have the files you'll need. Can I send them over and you give me an estimate on how long you think this might take?
Switzerland People: Yes. Send them over. We will be in contact.
Me: Great! Thanks a lot for looking them over. I'm just awful when it comes to this kind of thing. I better let a professional handle it, haha. I might do more harm than good.
SP: You cannot do harm. It is a computer code. You can't hurt a string of code on a computer.
Me: Ah, you're right. I guess I'll toss out my butcher knife then, heh.
SP: Why do you have a knife? Code is my physical. It doesn't bleed. Are you serious about this project or do you lie to us?

Thankfully I found someone that was willing to help me and laugh at my butcher knife jokes. They might have just been laughing because I'm paying them to help me finish the code...but I'll take what I can get. Maybe there's some kind of gap between how people in Switzerland read messages and how the people in Brazil read it. I imagine the people in Brazil were playing around on the beach all day, basking in the sun in their little Speedo's. And the Switzerland people were up in the Alps dealing with snow drifts and a lack of alcohol because their dogs are out playing in the snow.

I guess I can't blame them. I'd be kinda bitchy too if I didn't have any alcohol and I had to eat that crap Heidi's grandfather gave her in the movie.


Today's featured blog is Left of Plumb and it's pretty great. Depending on when you click...you might see a post beginning with a debate on whether Hobo is an acceptable term. Irene is great. You should visit her and comment.
 

I write really small stories that always end up like the sixth sense

I haven't had a ton of jobs in my lifetime. Seeing as I'm in my early twenties and I graduated from college in the worst economy ever...that's probably why. I've worked at a grocery store, a bakery where I used to climb in the dumpster for treats in the morning (story for another time), an intern for a research center, a call center and finally a newspaper.

During college I was on the newspaper staff. It was awesome. I got to interview random fiddle legends who would ask me back to their house to sit in their hot tub with them. Seriously. It was awesome. I cannot stress this enough.

So two years after I graduated from college I got a job at a newspaper. Not the biggest one around but much bigger than my local hometown newspaper. They actually have stories on the front paper that don't begin with "Local couple arrest for stealing hogs while under the influence of meth." That's not a lie. People in my town take drugs and then go steal pigs. It's what we do here in the South. Working for a newspaper that didn't exclusively feature hog 'nappers was pretty much a dream come true. In my mind I would write some great stories that I would be proud of and I could show my parents and prove to them that there was a reason I went to college and it didn't involve trashcan punch OR streaking. So hah.

Working at the newspaper is a small source of pride for me. When my mom talks about me to people she lets them know that her baby works at the mighty newspaper. Most people don't ask what I do there thankfully. When they do, my mom tells them that I write mini-stories. I totally do write mini-stories so it isn't a lie. It just so happens that my mini-stories all end the same way. The people have been dead the whole time.

Yeah, I write obituaries.

My knowledge includes knowing about 50 different ways to say a person died. I know how to line up an entire list of survivors with commas and semicolons. That every funeral home director in my region is old and terrible at interacting with the living. Families send in 'glamor shots' for women and they honestly shouldn't. Just, no. You're final picture shouldn't be of you wearing costume jewelry with a dead, fake animal around your neck. Anytime I make a mistake the family will call me and try to sue me for it. I wish I were kidding.

As long as I have this job I know there will be more posts about this department. I have to laugh about it because if I were to think about what I have to do on a daily basis...I'd probably just crawl into bed and cry constantly. And that's not very helpful to anyone. Especially the people I need to write obituaries for.

Do people even think about writing their obituaries before they die? Or is that kinda like jinxing it? Never thought about it before. In case someone needs help with one...you've found the right blog.


Blogs I love. After each post I plan (I use this loosely) on linking a blog I really enjoy reading. It's a way to help people discover other bloggers that, in my opinion, are awesome. So click and read!

This post I feature the lovely Lauren over at Filing Jointly...Finally with her latest epic tale about getting her high school lova down the aisle finally. I totally liken it to the Odyssey. Lauren is like the Sirens and Ryan is Odysseus. He can be strapped to the mast all he wants but he can still hear Lauren talking about cheese. Read her archives and thank me later.

New 'nology

I got a new laptop today. Only it's taking me a lot longer than necessary to figure out how to type on it. I'm behind the times but I can't for the life of me get the hang of buttons on a laptop keyboard.

I got a laptop to start blogging again but I probably need to do some kinda tutorial for practice.

Shittiest first post ever. You're welcome.