Idiot Tax: Revenge of the Savings Account

Idiot Tax: Revenge of the Savings Account

So I’m not feeling particularly funny today. This happens time to time. Like I wrote another e-mail and talked on IM for a while and I just wasn’t feeling it. It’s a lot like it is with sports. Some days the jumper is just falling and some days… it’s not (see, told you I wasn’t funny). But I need to tell you this story because it’s true and probably funny enough on its own that I can’t fuck it up with my mood.

I have my checking account linked to my savings account for overdraft protection purposes. This is nothing earth-shatteringly revolutionary by any means. I just do this should I accidentally lose track of exactly how much money I don’t have and take out more than I have in my checking. I also have my account set up to transfer a few bucks from checking to savings every 2 weeks. That way, I can earn up to 17 cents a month in interest (see, the funny isn’t working – I’ll just get to the story). Anyway, I checked my account today just to see how much money I don’t have. Turns out, it’s most of it. Some automatic transfer took more money out of my checking account than I had. So my savings account stepped up to the plate and saved the day (maybe that’s how it got the name “savings account”). It sacrificed some of its own money for the better of the team. And the bank only charged me $7 for this act of kindness. So I went to look at which transfer put me over the top. Car insurance? iTunes? Girls Gone Wild: Semester Abroad? Nope. It was the automatic debit that my savings account takes out every two weeks! (Say what?!)

To recap, my savings account tried to take more money from my checking account than was in there. When my checking account is threatened like that, my savings account deposits money in there to help out at a cost of $7 per transaction. So my savings account took too much out of my checking account so the same savings account had to put money into my checking account for it to take out. And my bank apparently charges my bank accounts $7 to play this fucked-up fiscal version of hot potato. The left hand didn’t take from the right hand, the left hand saw that the right hand didn’t have what it wanted, so it gave the right hand some of what it wanted, then took some of it back and threw some of it down the toilet. This is another example of idiot tax. But somehow I don’t feel like I’m the idiot this go-around.

Our camp was at Hueston Woods last week and I was taking pictures of the kids and counselors in the kayaks and out of the kayaks and stuff (man, I'm just really not hitting my stride today) and I pointed the camera at one of the counselors to try to get a shot of her with her towel folded up on her head to keep the sun off her face. She shoved her hand into the camera and said…

Quote of the Day 7/22/06

Jen: "No swimsuit shots."
Me: "What if I promise to only get you from the head up?"
Jen: "No, I don't really like my face either."

OK, how about the forehead up?

Bankless in Ohio,

Fishman.

Still Standing Right Here…

The Dangers of Day Camp

The Dangers of Day Camp

I got to work yesterday morning to find a loving note from my buddy Claire saying simply “sorry I broke your glasses.” I was touched. Especially when I had a very sincere conversation with her later that day in which she tenderly told me that her dad made her do it. But deep down, I know she didn’t really mean it. And so I was out at lunch with the kiddies again and Mikala called me over to witness their little sorority meeting. They were going through the rules of their sorority. “Rule number one – we don’t talk to Dustin. Rule number two – we REALLY don’t talk to Dustin. Rule number three – we REALLY REALLY don’t talk to Dustin. Rule number four…” By the seventh rule, I started to get the pattern. I decided standing there getting ridiculed by 10-year old girls wasn’t the best use of my time. And so I started playing with the boys. Their games were very straight forward. They were grabbing me by the feet and trying to make me drag them across the yard. I finally broke myself loose and inevitably it turned into a spirited game of Get Mr. Dustin. This is a game where I run away from the kids and they chase after me. I generally always lose this game one way or another. I can play Dante Hall in the yard and fend them off for a decent amount of time, but all it takes in one kid to catch up to me and weaken my defenses, and then the game changes from Get Mr. Dustin to A Young Adult’s Fight For His Life. This game comes with a warning that Mr. Dustin is not responsible for anyone injured as a result of me falling on them because of the hundreds of pounds of kids anchoring my balancing mechanisms and the other hundreds of pounds of them pushing my torso in different directions. Unfortunately, that warning encompasses myself also.

I have a friend named Erick who I don’t hear from very often, but when I do, he makes his presence known. He decided to chime in with his analogy amongst all of my recent attempts.

Quote of the Day 7/18/06

“Being single is like Texas Hold ‘Em. If you play like an idiot, you can confuse people into submission. Or lose all of your money. Or your pants.”

-Erick

If you think you can do better, chime on in.

Running into the sun but I’m running behind,

Extendo.


Still Standing Right Here…

Damn the DNA

Damn the DNA

Thank you all for your support/criticism/laughter in my very immediate direction in response to my first real weekend off the DL. I’m afraid I’m going to have to write about something else today since there has been no movement forward or backward on the female front since Friday night. Which is usually a step backward. But who knows with women? Apparently no movement can sometimes be a step forward. Which, by the way, is just stupid. I hate these silly games. This is nothing like euchre or asshole or any card game that I’ve ever played. This is like a blind squirrel in a dark room looking for a broken clock that probably doesn’t exist. If you’re into that game, go ahead and have a go. I’m going to go sit under a tree and wait for my watch to break (don’t look too deeply into that – it doesn’t mean anything).

Speaking of breaking things, there’s this girl Claire at camp who I have more of a soft spot for than I probably should. She has shown over and over now that she’s one of the most ornery and misbehaved (bad) kids at camp. And I’m such a softie (pushover). I have lost complete control over these kids. Seriously. I show up to an event and they all get out of the nice line the counselors spent 10 minutes getting them in and run over and steal my keys and visor and sanity. And I can’t get them to give it back. They stopped listening to me sometime ago. I noticed it last week when we were out in a canoe floating towards an oncoming jet boat and the two girls refused to give me the paddle or try to veer from the oncoming vehicle’s course. So I know it’s my fault and I let it escalate this far, but the inevitable happened. At lunch today, Claire reached up to try to steal my glasses and broke them in half. And there was no expression of remorse. In fact, she laughed and ran away with the half she had taken. This girl is 10. Let’s go back to the gender thing again. No boy at camp would do this. What is up with that second X chromosome? I suppose it’s good to know that it’s a DNA thing and we, as a gender, never had a shot.

Anyway, back to Claire. This is the type of person she is. They have this little mini-sorority that is basically premised on not talking to me. I’m not kidding. They have a pact to not talk to me unless it’s to say something mean. Instead of talking about philanthropy at their meetings, they plot on ways to tip me out of a canoe and take the keys to my car and throw them down a sewer grate. So one day, Claire was asking one of the female counselors what male counselors she wanted to date. The female counselor thankfully did not involve herself in this conversation. Claire went on to express her opinion...

Quote of the Day 7/17/06

“Well I like Chris, then Ben, then Mike, then Geremy, then somebody, then somebody, then somebody, then somebody, then somebody, then Dustin." -Unfair Claire

For the record, there are no other “somebodys.” Only 5 of us.

Living blurry for a week,

Glassless in Oxford.


Still Standing Right Here…

And Then There Were None

If you haven't read Nerds Gone Wild yet, it will make this a lot funnier.

And Then There Were None

Crap! I got pigeon-holed! Girl A called and wanted to hang out almost the second after I got done writing that last quote of the day. I asked what her other friends were doing and she said she wanted to just hang out with me. Well, this throws a serious wrench into my plans. Especially since Girl A is my only link to that crowd. So I bit the bullet and went to shoot pool with Girl A at Balcony. It’s cool that it was just the two of us because she didn’t want to have to compete with Girl B again and it’s cool that I bought every drink. And I tried to equal her flirtivity but I just couldn’t. And then Girl C came in. Girl C and I had been out a couple times in the last two weeks. Alright, D Playa. Time to dance. And I danced. And I can dance. I think I channeled the ghost of Jesse Ghiorzi, my old playa coach to help me out of that one. Situation diffused. But then it got tough.

Later at Bagel & Deli, I ran into Angie, the feminist I went out with a few times in January who was very drunk and very loudly wanted to know why I never called her back (Dustin life update: this has never happened before and probably will never happen again). It’s almost like every outstanding relationship I was in all collided on that night. I’m a little surprised Megan “I know who you are, I dated you for 7 months” O’Brien wasn’t behind the counter throwing alfalfa sprouts at me. And after all this mess, Girl A went home seemingly a little irritated and no longer interested.
So it turns out, I was right. I lost both of these girls and pissed off a few other people in the process. It’s only been a couple weeks and I feel like I already need a break. Looks like I’m not as good at euchre as I thought. Actually, being single is more like asshole. I have a vague idea how to play, but the rules change so much, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m sure I’ll compare it to another card game next week. Oh, and here’s what to say if you ever use that parking space analogy in front of any girl who says “Well, what about me…”

Quote of the Day 7/16/06

“Well, baby. You’re like a motorcycle spot. It’s a good spot, but not everybody drives a motorcycle.”

-Justin Somethingorother


Actually, I don’t really think that dug him out of trouble. But it was funny.

Back to the drawing board,

D Lonely.


Still Standing Right Here…

Nerds Gone Wild

Nerds Gone Wild

Ah, what the hell…

From zero to playa in 4 weeks.

Warning! Asshole alert ahead! Yeah, I can be an asshole sometimes. I’m gonna tell you about one of those times. It’s right now. And I have a few apprehensions about sending this out, so I hope you all appreciate the defamation of my own character for your amusement.

See there’s this group of girls (and guys) that I kinda randomly met playing volleyball this past Monday. They’re all college math geeks from all over the country here for a nerds gone wild trip for four weeks over the summer. I could tell this one girl was pretty into me. She was pretty cool. Her friends were also pretty cool (danger – fence straddling ahead!). Especially this one in particular. No! Stupid Dustin! Ah, what the hell… So we wound up at B Dubs late one night – me, the two of them and another quieter girl who didn’t make the cut (OK, now I’m just being cocky). Anyway, the first girl, who we’ll call Girl A was definitely making eyes at me that even an idiot (apparently) could see. But then the other girl (Girl B) who I liked got real drunk and took over the conversation. And I’m not one to shy away from vibrant conversation. The night ended up in us clearing away some tables and doing cheer routines. I was in. And thankfully I have an unbiased female confidant to help me interpret these signals like a good third base coach. She told me that they were probably both into me the way they both acted and then she proceeded to let me behind the curtain.

Apparently, there’s an inherent competition between females for a guys attention. Complete strangers, best friends, family members, it doesn’t matter. These females have some sort of code to try to vie for the attention of the other species. This code is very different from the male code, where if a female is showing interest, it is the other male’s responsibility to stay as far away from that situation as possible, even if it involves giving your friend the keys to your car and walking home. And looking back, now I see it. The more Girl B would talk to me and show me cheer moves, the more Girl A would reach across the table and pat me on the arm. So Jill says if I just feign interest in the both of them, I should be able to take my pick by week’s end, should that be what I want (jeez, I’m actually starting to want to slap myself). This is great news for me, because nobody is better in feigning interest than me. So anyway, I’ll keep you all posted on how this situation turns out (or I can just skip ahead in time and tell you that I’m gonna screw it up with both of them and probably piss some other people off in the process). But until then, I have hope. And that’s all I need. And alcohol.

And while I’m being an asshole, I may as well sell out another friend from a while ago…

Quote of the Day 7/14/06

“Women are like parking spaces. All the good ones are taken. And the rest are handicapped.”

-Keith D


Being single is like playing euchre for me. Just because I don’t like the game doesn’t mean I’m not good at it.

-Back in the game,

-D Playa.


Still Standing Right Here…

Tired and Sick

Tired and Sick

So I’m sick. Not really that sick, but enough to piss me off. And I’m so ridiculously inept at getting myself better, it’s ridiculous (I need a thesaurus). Like my throat has been scratchy for days and my solution was to eat more ice cream. I thought about gargling salt water for a sec, but there were ritz crackers by my bed which I figured would serve the same purpose. And when trying to figure out how I got sick, everybody asks if I have strange sleeping patterns. These people don’t know me. Or they do and are basically saying “duh.”

So I tracked it back to the night I drove to Cleveland and back and didn’t get to sleep until 8am and then had to get up the next… day(?) at 5am. Anyway, after waking up at about 4pm that day, I couldn’t fall back asleep until about 4:45am. I woke up 15 minutes later, confused as cranberries (that’s not a real saying – don’t use it and expect results) and unable to identify where that damn noise was coming from. Is it the alarm clock?... No, not the alarm clock… I glanced at my guitar... No, probably not the guitar… THE PHONE!!! Got it! It’s the phone… No, nope… it’s not the phone… Oh crap! It IS the alarm clock! Why the hell is it going off now? It’s still dark. I must have screwed something up somewhere. Oh no, wait a sec… No, I was right. Shit on a duck (also not a saying)…

So that is the origin of me being sick. It’s the residual effect of my favor. This favor is getting bigger with every day that passes by that I can’t choke down a yuengling.

So me and 43 kids went to the Beach Water Park a few Fridays ago. I know. It’s a rough job. I put in for overtime that day. So anyway, it’s our policy that all the kids have on suntan lotion when they are outside. My jeep actually has that same policy now. Anyway, most of the kids left theirs on the bus, I think mostly because I told them to (oops). So I let the kids in my group borrow mine (like they’re going to give it back). It’s 60 spf, which is apparently very high in the world of suntan lotion. I know it’s more effective than 4 spf. So Jaci was helping one of the girls put it on and she had never seen suntan lotion this thick…

Quote of the Day 7/11/06

“Is this glue?”

-Smart-alec Claire.


Hey you little runt! You try peeling off two layers of your own skin for two weeks straight and see how you feel about using glue to keep the sun from having a B-line to your bones! No wonder nobody likes you.

Sick as a dog (and that is a saying… but why?),

Big Fish.


Still Standing Right Here…

Europe is the One on the Left, Right?

Europe is the One on the Left, Right?

So did anybody else pretend to like soccer for a couple hours today? I actually went a step further and pretended to like the French. I don’t know why. Maybe because I like their fries. Yeah, that reminds me. Are we done calling them freedom fries now? That never really caught on like republicans had hoped it would. Probably because the French have more than just fries and that’s a lot of menu changes. Freedom Bread. Freedom Toast. Freedom Onion Soup. OK, this French guy just head butted an Italian guy in the chest. Not a shove or a punch or even a kick. That’s pretty damn funny, however unsportsmanlike it is. The French don’t even fight the right way. I guess we could have figured that out after WW2.

So it looks like one of those European teams won. It was Italy this year, but I’ll probably forget that by next week. They’re honestly all the same to me too. Maybe I should care a little bit more about global geography than that, but it’s not like they know the difference between our states anyway (and yes, I know that’s not equivalent). When I went to Scotland and told people I was from Philadelphia, almost without exception, they all referenced the Tom Hanks movie and called me a fag. It was the only time in my life I actually lied and said I was from New Jersey. It was just easier and they weren’t as willing to call me a fag. But some still did anyway. Don’t know how I got that reputation in Scotland, I swear.

…using my ignorance of global geography as a transition…

About a year ago, I was trying to talk about one of the UMBC intramural guys, but I didn’t know his name. I was like “you know, the Asian guy that plays basketball with Ozell and talks a lot…”

Quote of the Day 7/9/06

“You men Vlade? He’s Russian, not Asian!”

-Basketball Blaine


OK, what continent do you think Russia is in?

Back to pretending I like baseball until August.

Dustin McNabb.


Still Standing Right Here…

Protection Is For Winners

Protection Is For Winners

Well, I just had my first funny laptop experience and I think you all will appreciate this. Unfortunately it isn’t about me being an idiot, but quite the opposite. It’s nice to have one of those stories once in a while.

So I was playing internet poker tonight. And this afternoon. And all yesterday. And it’s not really that I’m addicted to gambling so much that I’m addicted to winning and losing money. Anyway, I was about halfway into a tournament and had a decent chip stack when my internet cut out. I suppose that’s what I deserve for stealing my internet signal to begin with. And if you’re the kind of person who has a problem with that, replace the phrase “stealing my internet signal” to “get off your moral high horse and join the rest of the capitalist world, Mr. Holier-Than Thou.”

So yeah, my signal cut out and I had $5 on the line here. I tried reconnecting to a few other signals around the area with no luck. So I figured what the hell? I unplugged my computer, grabbed my keys and jumped in the jeep driving around town looking for an unprotected wireless signal. It didn’t take too long. And so I pulled over and parked and started playing again. Top off the jeep, sitting in my pajamas on the side of the road at about 1am on a Saturday night playing internet poker. No, I’m not addicted at all. These two girls walked by, obviously trashed, and I started to panic. For some reason, I thought I needed an excuse so they didn’t think I was weird (good luck). Nothing came to mind, so I just sat as still as possible and pretended they couldn’t see me. Like a tree. An invisible tree. In a car. With a computer screen illuminating my bark. I know they could and I know they did because they stopped talking and laughing when they walked by. And their heads turned. And then they proceeded to run. And I didn’t recognize them, but I’m sure they recognized my jeep because they probably lived on my block. So when I find out who they were, I’ll be sure to add them to the list of chicks I’ve completely lost my chances with. I’m going to need more paper.

So then I lost my stupid tournament. I’d like to blame the surroundings, but I lose a lot worse than that in the confines of my own frequently stolen frequency. I was talking to Bill last week about our internet situation and how even after Mark moved out from next door, we still had a signal that we could pick up, but I just wanted to make sure that borrowing someone else’s signal was ok with his ethics…

Quote of the Day 7/8/06

“The way I see it, it’s their fault for letting their radio waves go through our house.”

-Indiana Wilcox

If you think about it, it would be rude not to let us use those signals that are pervading their way into my bedroom. Intrusive damn radio waves!

Tryin to break even,

Busted Nuts.


Still Standing Right Here…

Indy-Friend-ance Day

Indy-Friend-ance Day

So this Independence Day started out just like any other day. I woke up on top of my blankets with my pants on and a vague recollection of karaoke, water towers and doing splits on the stage of Brick Street. I had to call my neighbor to find out who drove us home and I crossed my fingers that I didn’t lose my glasses, credit cards or self-respect last night. Then I woke up and watched Monk for 7 hours. What an awesome day.

Fast forward ahead to the barbeque with brisket, banana pudding and raspberry muffins shaped like penises (we’ll talk more about this later). I got a phone call from my best friend from high school who asked me if I could come pick him up and drive him back to his car. He was in Cleveland. Four hours away. I’m not kidding. He wasn’t kidding. Nobody was kidding. Not even him. Trust me, I asked again. All Mike would tell me is that there was nothing legally or medically wrong and he knew the magnitude of what he was asking me. He was at Jacobs Field watching the Yanks play the Indians. So I was putting the top on my jeep trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Was he in some gang trouble? Did Derek Jeter steal his car keys? Was he so upset over the 19-1 drubbing of the Yanks that he slashed his own tires in disgust? (19-1? Was that even a baseball game?) Well, I’m a good friend so I wasn’t going to ask. Besides, the only single chick at the party who hadn’t already turned me down was about to leave. So I took off towards Cleveland. Meanwhile, Mike had convinced his girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend to start to drive him south to meet me. He’s apparently trying to win the ex-boyfriend of the year award.

So I got back home around 4am. The fireworks were apparently all over. But for about 15 minutes just north of Dayton, God had his own display that was pretty impressive. Good to know he’s a patriot. And this quote was from a while ago, but I like it a lot and it’s a great one to remember if you’re in relationship…

Quote of the Day 7/4/06

“Just because I don’t remember doesn’t mean I wasn’t listening.”

-Mikey “Owes Me a Favor” Conover. J


All the deer were hiding from me last night too. The word is out.

America’s beacon of freedom,

Captain Extendo.


Still Standing Right Here…