Last week, I mentioned that I like the term "bread and butter client." I want to take a moment here to clarify what I mean by "like." If you thought I meant that I find the term a good descriptor and a favorable way to explain my position, then I did a poor job of explaining myself. When I said I "like" that term, I meant more that I intentionally misuse and mass over-use it. I will use it in regards to one-time occurances (which doesn't make any sense), what I am wearing, even as a greeting. What up my bread n butta? I'll even break it down to an acronym "BNB." (The fact that that is not technicaly the correct acronym will be discussed next week.)

Today I took it to a new level. And by "it" I mean both using "bread and butter" and having a silent discussion with myself.

I had brussel sprouts with lunch for the second time this week. I told one of the other FLS Junkies that brussel sprouts are my bread and butter. After that call the discussion with myself began. Is it ever valid to use metaphors within their non-metaphorical context? For instance, "Hit a home run," perfectly valid when speaking of making a sale, sex, eating an entire pizza, starting a lawn mower with one pull or when actually hitting a home run while playing baseball. But you can't use it otherwise within baseball. You couldn't comment on a no-hitter or a triple-play by saying, "wow, he really hit a home-run."

Enough of that.

There was a saturated Cheese-Puff in the sink today. It took me a long time to figure out what it was.

Back not too long ago I was popping chickens with a company for our then 'Bread and Butter Client' ( I like that term.) The target comapany's name is/was Couche-Tard. They are french canadian company that owns, among other things, Circle K.

It was kinda difficult to tell this client that I had booked an MI (popped a chicken) with Couche-Tard. Just doesn't sound right.

More importantly, since, I don't think there has been an internal FLS conference call that hasn't resulted in someone being called a Couche-Tard.

The rest is obvious.

Bueno. I didn't work out of the OVL on Friday. I stayed above ground and made the magic from the kitchen. It didn't feel right to write.

As most of you know, if not all of you by now, the discarded computer near Rite Aid was removed last week. How strange is it that while walking the dogs through a Park in Shoreline yesterday, I came across another discarded computer tower? This one had been savegly beaten Office Space-style.

I can't write on the back side of pages of my notebook until I have filled all the front sides. I don't know why. So the way it works is that I go through the entire notebook, jotting notes and doodling on the front sides of the page. When I reach the end, I fold the back cover around and work my way backwards to the front page.

I doodle the same things I did when I was in high school.

I need to find a way to record and post telephone calls on this blog. I am not really sure if they are at all entertaining or not. But...my phone rings and I answer. I am expecting it to be my fellow "FLS-Junkie" that I have been IM-ing. We were having a stimulating discussion around the affects of antibiotics on intestinal functioning. Turns out it is not him. At this current point in time, I am representing 3 companies and 3 separate divisions in one of them. This guy calls, tells me his name and I have no idea who he is, which company he thinks I work for, what company he works for, or why I called him. Then he tells me he is the President of the company, a big company(name omitted). Somehow I managed to have a conversation with this guy that did not result in him calling me a jerk, ignoramous or (expletive edited). In fact, he tells me to contact one of his Vice Presidents and have a conversation with him.

Call that Chicken: Popped

Despite the fact that actual sunlight penetrated the OVL today, it is damn cold down here. The DeLonghi certainly provides some relief, but it is certainly limited. I have taken to wearing some fingerless cycling gloves. They are Specialized Bodygeometry and have substantial effect on typing ability regardless of the fingerless design. I have a feeling they would better suited for peeling change off of a wad of bills. This feeling has been fuel for career change ponderence. Any ideas for cash based-basement businesses? The only one I can think of is publishing A Guide to Cash Based Basement Businesses. That idea kinda presents a marketing challenge though; how to get people into the basement to purchase a Guide in cash.

Egg burrito for lunch today. I didn't scramble the eggs, just fried them over low heat and popped the yolk. It was pretty good, but I got some Sriracha on my notebook.

Sworn truths:

1. As of this morining, there is no longer a discarded computer near Rite-Aid. It has been removed. That is all the information I have at this time. I will hopefully post a picture of the dead area it left behind in the ivy patch in which it once rested.

2. There was an old man sitting in a parked car behind Rite-Aid. By old, I mean like 90. It was 9:30am and he was opening a bottle of wine. He was using one of those openers that has the odd shaped ring thing that you turn and the two arms rise up until you plunge them downwards. Although this type of opener fascinated me as a kid (I thought it looked like an angel), I don't really care for them anymore. A screw cap is much more convenient when you are drinking in your car behind Rite-Aid in the morining.

It hasn't happend in awhile, but back when it was a bit warmer out, occasionally the door to my office-vault-lair would be left open overnight. This always makes for an interesting morning. In this scenario I enter the O-V-L with much trepidation, fully expecting a raccoon or a jaguar or possibly a giant Daddy Longleg to lunge at my throat after moving things around on my desk.

The worst is when the door is left open and for some reason I forget this inevitable scenario and enter the OVL in complete oblivion. It is a few moments later that I come to the realization of the danger and my aloofness. Past experince has taught me, wild animal attacks in your basement happen when you least expect them.

There was a couple of guys cutting the lock off of the barrier that keeps people from climbing ladder that leads to the roof of Rite-Aid. I stopped to watch as I had already Popped my daily Chicken. I didn't have much to look forward too, other than a little Puff Puff Pass and maybe some Meow. One of the guys, who must have been the Foreman as he was smoking, told me that the other guy was doing it because "he's young and stupid."

Three things to mention today.

1.) “I went into the dollar store to buy my cat a toy, but instead purchased a pair of socks,” is a great way to start a story. Anyone is welcome to use that to start their own story.

2.) A cool jacket would be a hoodie combined with a blazer. Up-top it would be like your regular hooded, zippered sweatshirt ; but then halfway down, at about mid-sternum it would transition into a sport coat with an optional split back. There would also be ample room for a crescent; in addition to pocket space. No one is welcome to actualize this idea.

3.) There does, as of this morning still remain a discarded computer tower near Rite-Aid. It’s a Toshiba. I didn’t know Toshiba made desktops even though my laptop is a Toshiba.

Cheryl Spanoodle emailed me this morining. As it turns out her name is "Spanulo." Is truth really stranger than fiction?

I have to admit, and it has been weighing pretty heavy, I embellished on my last post.

I am not actually speaking to my heater, which is a DeLonghi Brand. In addition to space heaters, apparently DeLonghi has developed a new accent. ‘Accent’ as in the grammatical symbol, not South Philly. The DeLonghi corporate logo has a straight line over the ‘e’. I guess they haven’t really developed anything quite new. They have just recruited from the phonetic symbol realm.

While although I am not actually speaking to the heater, I do look at it. .

Fact: I contacted and even actually spoke with some of everyone of the following: Cheryl Spanoodle, Fabiola Rock and Bob Wenker.

Bob’s Admin is Karen Wood, I wonder if her middle name is For.

Fabiola’s email address is for sale.

Popped a quick Chicken this morning doing 'Puff, Puff, Pass' with my cohort Stone. 'Puff Puff Pass' is when 2 or more FLS people conference each other and then alternate making calls to 'Targeted Key Players.' I am OK with this name, Puff Puff Pass that is. "Targeted Key Player" bothers me.

Puff Puff Pass is typically employed when we begin working with a new client. But more typically is used when boredom, isolation and thoughts of moving to Spokane have reached dangerous levels.

Puff Puff Pass is commonly combined with another activity that has no name. This nameless activity involves saying 'meow' on 'Targeted Key Players' voice mail.

I usually try to slip it in like I am saying 'Now.' Last week, we had a new guy from the bay area in on it. This fearless soul just said, "Meow, meow, meow" clear as a bell in the middle of a message concerning "improving the efficiency of operational efficiency while producing more productively."

I have never gained such respect in a such a brief period.

I have a heater in my basement that is seemingly becoming more and more human in appearance, I don't know how or why. Obviously I am now speaking to it.

Sauerkraut is difficult to clean off of computer keyboards.

It has been raining steadily and rain is forecasted for as far the forecast can see. My office-lair has a history of remaining a formidible barrier to moisture. This week may put it to the test.

There was a squirrell looking at me through one of the the 3 2ft by 1ft windows I am afforded. One offers a view of a concete wall. Another is currently offering a great view of a truck tire and the third isn't worth mentioning.

I have to go outside to get into my basement.

Sauerkraut should be avoided before 10am.