Tigger Den

The Day After.

2012-02-01T21:11:00.000-08:00

Followup to the Dinner Story

I went back to my room late that evening. Still
a little sore from the evenings events to be honest
but very content.

I rang your room first thing in the morning. You
answered the phone and sounded quite groggy. I could
hear you clearing away the cobwebs and you finally
made out who was on the phone.

"Good morning... I just wanted the first thing you
did today was cum while fantazing about me taking
my pussy anyway I might please."

"Oh god.", was the first response, then "Yes I need
to."

"Ok I want you to kick away all of the sheets and
covers. Nothing should be blocking my view of your
naked flesh right?"

I could hear you moving so I knew that you were
throwing the sheets away from your body. You came
back to the phone.

"I'm completely exposed for you."

"Good now I need you to lay back and get comfortable.
Lay however you want that will not impede me getting
the orgasm from you that belongs to me."

I'm ready for you was your reply.

"Look at your body for me and describe your breasts
to me"

"Ummm", you stammered," They are round and high up
on my chest. My nipples pinkish and small."

"Are they hard?"

"Very hard", you exhaled in a raspy voice, you were
obviously turned on by this exchange"

"I want you to rub your free hand on your body and
massage down to your sex. Do not enter my pussy do
you understand. Tell me when your hand is massaging
my pussy, tell me what you are doing"

You described your actions as your rubbed your hand
over your nipples pinching them to an even harder state.
Now your hand had traveled down your body running over
your clitoris and outer lips. You told me that your
clitoris was now sticking up slightly with excitement.

"I want you to put phone on speaker and put it by your
head. Then I want you to take both hands and rub down
the sides of the lips on my pussy but stay outside."

You did as you were told and put the phone down, and
ran your hands on your body.

"Lookup to the far wall. What do you see?"

You looked up and saw yourself in the mirror across from
the bed. Laying on your back with your legs spread
wide rubbing yourself. Your face and chest flushed.

"I look kinda like a slut."

"Yes but my slut. Go get one of your vibrators that you
bring with you on the road, and get back to that same
position."

"I'm back"

"Good now take your vibrator and put it right on the lips
of your sex but don't enter yourself."

"Oh please let me", I heard. You did as you were told
and were looking across into the mirror.

"Not yet. I want you to turn on the vibrator and run it
up and down slowly against your slit. I'm going to let you
fuck yourself in a minute. But first I want you to work
the vibrator up and down your slit for 10 stokes. Count
off each stroke for me. Can you do that?"

"Yes"

"Then start"

You ran the vibrator up your pussy, moaning as the vibrations
ran across your sex.

Your started your count down. By the time your got to seven
your said "Oh god.."

"Don't cum yet", I stated.

"Please"

"No just a little bit longer. When you get to ten wait for
my command to put it in yourself"

"Nine", came out with a whimper...

"Ten" you said triumphantly gripping the vibrator waiting for
the command laying perfectly still as the vibrator rested on
your wet, oh so wet pussy.

"Do you see yourself in the mirror?"

You looked and say that you were completely flush and sweat
covered your body. A look of pure lust on your face as you
waited to enter your body with the vibratory.

"Look at yourself and slip it in.

You watched as it penetrated your sex. Your eyes shut in
bliss. The vibrator filled you completely. You fucked yourself
with a passion and a force that came from deep inside.

In the mirror, you could watch your breasts jiggling with
the motions of your fucking. You fucked yourself harder, trying
to make your breasts shake faster and faster just to watch them.
Suddenly you first climax of the day without warning.

"Yes!" you yelled into the phone as your body shook. "Sorry," you
added.

"Don't be," I said. My voice was strained and you
wondered, no, prayed that I was masturbating too.

"Keep masturbating," I ordered and you happily obeyed.
"Deep, even strokes. Plunge that vibrator hard inside you like I
would. Fuck your pussy for me because I can't. I can hear from
here how wet you are."

You blushed as you realized you could hear it too. Your sex was
wet, and the squishing sounds seemed to echo in the
room. You looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled as you
tried to make the sounds louder, more obscene and more audible.

Just the thought of I coming brought about another orgasm.
You watched your face as you came. I groaned with you as you
came, but you knew I hadn't come. you decided I just needed
more encouragement.

You struggled to regain your breath. "But did you come?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I will come at my own choosing. For
now, I am happy to listen to you. Your voice is very beautiful
when you come. Till this evening. Remember I want you counting
the number of times you cum today at work."

With that I hung up the phone.

Aint Mis Behavin - Ok Maybe I am

2008-03-17T21:32:00.000-07:00

Ain't Misbehaving - Fats Waller

No one to talk with all by myself
No one to walk with
But I'm happy on the shelf
Ain't misbehavin' savin' all my cum for you

I know for certain the one I love
I'm through with flirtin'
It's just you I'm thinkin' of
Ain't misbehavin' savin' all my cum for you

Like Jack Horner in the corner
Don't go nowhere what do I care
Your kisses are worth waitin' for
Believe me

I don't stay out late don't care to go
I'm home about eight
Just me and my radio
Ain't misbehavin' savin' all my cum for you

Like Jack Horner in the corner
Don't go nowhere what do I care
Your kisses are worth waitin' for
Believe me

I don't stay out late don't care to go
I'm home about eight
Just me and my radio
Ain't misbehavin' savin' all my love for you

Story Time With Andria - The Christmas Sub

2007-12-11T11:23:00.000-08:00

The evening had been as normal as you laid on the couch. I was lying on my back next to you naked. You leisurely dropped your foot unto my face as you read your book. Something about dream analysis.

Once your foot fell to my face I knew what was expected so I cleaned off the bottom with my tongue. After I was done I dried it on my face and hair and then began to rub deeply.

Suddenly I felt your hand drop to my crotch...I was instantly hard. It had been at least two weeks since I came and you knew it. I felt a slap to my thigh. Crap I had forgotten to lay on my back with my cock and balls exposed as I was instructed. I'm sure I'm going to pay for that one. I quickly spread my legs wide open granting you full access.

You started to glide your hand up my thigh gently rubbing my balls and cock. Occasionaly you would remove your hand to flip the page, but you always came back never putting much pressure. When you finally grabbed my cock firmly I was ready to explode. I knew you could sense this so you pumpped my cock three times each downstroke caused the heel of you hand to smash down into my balls. As I doubled up in pain the feeling to cum obviously went away. I looked up at you as you gingerly turned the page or your book and returned your hand to my cock.

Casually you lifted your foot up and then slammed it down on my face. Damn what was I thinking. In my desire to cum I had stopped rubbing your foot and the bruise on my face would be the price. I quickly resumed my rubbing in earnest.

This went on for what felt like hours. You alternated between ferocious pumps on my cock and light touches, to stopping to turn your page. I couldn't stand this any longer. I laid there waiting for my chance. The next time you grabbed hard I was going to pump your hand like an aniamal. I would get punished but it would be worth it. Just then you grabbed me hard again and I thrusted up, lifting my hips off the group and pumped at your hand. You simply grabbed even harder and let your arm loose so that I was pumping madly, but not getting any of the friction I needed. I was grunting and pleading now for release. I actually felt the saliva run out of the corner of my mouth and down my face.

Your answer was to remove your hand altogether to turn your page.

There I was with my hips high in the air panting. Cock extended and purple and red from the torture. You finished turning your page and then simultaneously slammed your fist into my balls and your foot on my face.

I collapsed into a ball as a hand went to my groin and face from the pain. I felt your hand on my thigh again. I didn't move an inch. I then felt the nails dig into my flesh and I quickly exposed myself to your whim again. You laid the book down on your chest and started to lightly touch me again.

"If you would like to cum you are going to have to earn it with more than a for shit footrub."

I agreed to do anything...anything you needed. You stated that you needed to get the house decorated for Christmas. I more than happily agreed to assist you with this. You got a wicked grin on your face that made me uneasy.

"Come with me they are in the dining room". You walked to the dining room as I followed on all fours trying to keep up with you. I had been instructed a while ago that my face should be pressed against the crack of your ass in this situation. The dining room had a large table and buffet. The whole room looked out of a picture window to the street and neighboring house. It was decorated quite nicely. You had used my credit well. It was then that I noticed a pile of decorations on the table and I started towards them.

"First I need you to put something on." You grabbed a pile of clothes and threw them at me. I started to put them on and I noticed that it was an elf outfit? I didn't ask questions. I put on the green hat and curly shoes. Then I put on the green tunic with white ruffles. When the tunic was fully extended it only came just below my stomach so that the waist down were still fully exposed.

"You look perfect. I'm feeling so festive already. We are going to party tonight so I hope you are ready." My cock was standing straight out in front of me at even the concept that you were going to stroke me until I came.

"Ok I will need to put the leaf in the table." So you pulled the halves apart as I went to get the leaf. When I came back you indicated that I forgot part of my outfit and put a green collar on my neck and attached the red leash. "There that is better... Now get up on the table on all fours. I looked at you puzzeled. You reached out and gave my cock a few firm tugs and I was up on the table in a flash. You fed the leash thru the part in the table and then quickly pulled it tight and closed the top. I now had my face pressed against the table top and couldn't move my head. You gave my ass a firm smack and I knew you wanted my ass in the air, so I scooted back up. So now I was ass high with my face pressed down. You grabbed each leg and tied a rope around the knee and pulled and tied it somewhere under the table. Then you tied each wrist and pulled my arms straight out and did the same. For all purposes I was all but immobile.

Now I must have been a sight. Face down, ass high with my legs spread obscenely making my cock and balls hang open to the world.

"There that is much better. But it needs some lights don't you think?". You walked over to me and placed a candle in my mouth. Then you took a number of sets of battery operated lights and started to decorate me with them. You used them to tie up my cock and balls. I felt you arranging a set on my back. For a moment I wondered what you were doing when you asked me if slut was spelled with one T. You laughed at your own joke. I can only assume you spelled slut out on my back in lights.

I felt you playing with my now tied up balls.

"No these won't do at all." You went away and came back with two large blue Christmas balls and hooked them to the light set on the base of my balls. I could feel the cold glass on my nuts so I assumed you had gotten the desired effect of replacing my balls with two huge blue balls.

You walked around the table observing your work fondly. "I forgot something." I felt the balls being removed and then I felt your hand descend on my ass. Over and over again smacking with abandon until you stopped to observe. I could feel the redness from the welts as you rubbed your hand across my now hot ass.

"There that color is the bright red I needed", you said as you hung your balls back on mine.

"Oh look Tigger it is the neighbors. Wave to them Tiggie... What oh how silly of my you can't. I'll do it for you." It was with that that I realized that I was in the middle of the picture window overlooking the street. You grabbed one of the light strands attached to my cock and made a waving motion with it.

"Hi Ms. Smith!", you said mocking me. Now I could feel my whole body turn as red as my ass. My life couldn't sink any lower.

You had dissappeared for a while and came back in the hottest black dress and pumps. Suddenly I heard the door bell ring. I looked at you wild eyed and spit the candle out of my mouth. What is going on??

"Oh did I say we are going to party Tiggie...I meant we are going to have a party, and you are going to be my center piece. Silly me. Here we can't have this coming out anymore." You grabbed the candle and put it back into my mouth and worked it like a cock. You then took it out and simply plunged it into my ass like it was a handle holder. I screamed out and lurched forward. I was screaming for you to take it out. When you came into my view again. I saw you lift up your skirt and pull down a pair of lacey black panties. I quited down mesmerized by the glimpes of you naked. You then reached over and jammed the panties into my mouth. God I could smell you on them.

"Keep quiet or there will be a new pope before you get to cum again... Now for a little mood lighting..."

With that you lit the candle and walked out of the room to the door. I heard women starting to collect out in living room. I twitched a little and felt what could only have been a runner of wax hit the ring of my ass. Which caused me to flinch, which caused it to occur again. It was going to be a long evening.

This I could tell was going to be my life with Andria...

Sorrow

2007-12-11T10:57:00.000-08:00

In Honor of Ms A's vacation. I begged and begged but she wouldn't let me go with her... Something about me not being able handle all that beating...The little minx

DAVID BOWIE LYRICS

"Sorrow"

With your long blonde hair
and your eyes of blue
The only thing I ever got from you
was sorrow
Sorrow
You acted funny trying
to spend my money

You're out there playing your high class games of sorrow
Sorrow

You never do what you know you oughta
Something tells me
you're a Devil's daughter
Sorrow, sorrow
Ahhhh, ah, ahhhh

I tried to find her
'Cause I can't resist her
(I tried to find her)
I never knew just how much I missed her
Sorrow
Sorrow

With your long blonde hair and your eyes of blue
The only thing I ever got from you was sorrow
Sorrow
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh

With your long blonde hair
I couldn't sleep last night
With your long blonde hair

Not familiar with this song?

Got to watch the original Ocean's Eleven last night

2007-07-05T08:18:00.000-07:00

Before Tony was a Soprano. Frankie was a tenor...

Frank Tribute

Sammy Davis in Oceans Eleven

These Jokes are so fucking true I had to pass it on.

2007-04-16T19:02:00.000-07:00

In honor of my favorite Italian lover... This meats for you baby...

You have a nonna.

You eat Sunday dinner at 2:00

You know what a rice ball really tastes like.

Your car has a green red and a white bow with a horn attached on the mirror!

You know the words to Dominick the Donkey!

On Christmas Eve you eat only fish

Your favorite slow song: Ti Amo

"Fuhggettaboutit"

The Godfather is your role model

You love Nutella...anytime...

Your nonna's meat balls are the best

You always dress to impress

You always gotta have a clean pair of Fila's

You love Versace, Gucci, Prada, Armani, just cause there Italian.

Favorite movies: Godfather, Good Fellas, Bronx Tale, The Last Don... and you live by them.

Guys gotta respect their women...or else...

You've been hit with a wooden spoon or had a shoe thrown at you by either your mother or your nonna.

Pasta, pasta, pasta everyday.

Your father owns 5 houses, has $300,000 in the bank, but still drives a 76 Monte Carlo.

You share a bathroom with your 5 brothers, have no money, but drive a $45,000 Camaro or Firebird.

Your mechanic, plumber, electrician, accountant and travel agent are all blood relatives.

You consider dunking a cannoli in an espresso a nutritious breakfast.

Your 2 best friends are your cousin and your brother-in-law's brother-in-law.

You are a card-carrying V.I.P at more than 3 strip clubs.

At least 5 of your cousins live on your street.

All 5 of those cousins are named after your grandfather.

A high school diploma and 1 year of Nassau Community College has earned you the title of "professor" among your aunts.

You are on a first name basis with at least 8 banquet hall owners.

If someone in your family grows beyond 5'11", it is presumed his mother had an affair.

There were more than 28 people in your bridal party.

You netted more than $50,000 on your first communion.

At some point in your life, you were a D.J

30 years after immigrating, your parents still say "Pronto" when answering the phone.

You have ever been in a fight defending Sly Stallone's thespian greatness.

Somewhere on your parents' property, there is a bathtub Madonna.

You build your house with 3 materials.... brick, brick and wrought iron.

You have at least one sister that went to Beauty School.

Clothes from the Chess King will actually fit you.

It is impossible for you to talk with your hands in your pockets.

Have been to a funeral where talk of the deceased is, "He shoulda kept his big yap shut."

You have many relatives named either Joe or Mary...

You grew up in a small house, but you still had two kitchens. (One was in the basement)

Your grandfather had a fig tree

You've always wanted a red Ferrari

Connie Francis songs makes you cry

At least one person in your family does a great impression of Don Corleone

You feel strangely comfortable when you sit on plastic-covered furniture

You know all the words to "That's Amore"

You are offended when the wedding you attend serves less than 9 courses despite the fact that you don't eat half of it.

You ask "How much for cash?" when buying but will accept 'gifts' in exchange for cash when selling.

You are not materialistic but insist a $500 wedding present is nothing.

You think have a concrete backyard is nice.

You think having swans in a big fountain in the front yard next to the veggie patch is tasteful.

You actually believe everyone eats those sugared almonds in the bonboniere at your wedding.

You always have a friend who 'owes you a favor'.

You're proud to be Italian - and you pass these jokes on to all your Italian friends!

Back in the Saddle

2007-04-12T12:32:00.000-07:00

Greetings all.

I'm back in the game. After nursing my poor incapacitated noodle I'm back to about as good as I ever was. I'm taking a new lease on life. I have reviewed the old one and it has been found wanting.

This came to full realization the other day when I actually almost cared what some jerk weeds on the internet thought about a made up alter ego of mine. Ummmmm can you say pathetic looser. I thought you could. It was at this time that I realized that I have no life and no guy friends anymore because I have allowed my life to be purchased. Do you know what the life of a full grown Italian male is worth? Apparently one goes for about 180K a year. I have been told it is a great purchase if you can get one. Well as long as they have a strong toungue.

But I'm back. If my boss, my SO, or whoever doesn't like it. Sit and spin baby. Life is way too fucking short to spend the hole thing lamenting something that cannot be reached. There isn't a damn thing on this planet that you can acquire that cannot be taken from you in an instant.

Live long and prosper. Look for my usual sarcastic self in upcoming posts.

D.

You know you are a Pennsylvanian When

2007-02-26T13:07:00.000-08:00

Once a Pennsylvanian, ALWAYS a Pennsylvanian!About Pennsylvanians:

1) You've never referred to Philadelphia as anything but "Philly" and NewJersey has always been "Jersey".

2)You refer to Pennsylvania as "PA" (pronounced Pee-ay). How many otherstates do that?

3)"You guys" is a perfectly acceptable reference to a group of men and women.

4)You know how to respond to the question "Djeetyet?" (Didyoueatyet?)

5) You learned to pronounce Bryn Mawr, Wilkes-Barre, Schuylkill, the Pocono's,Tamaqua, Tunkannock, Bala Cynwyd, Duquesne and Monongahela.

6)And we know Lancaster is pronounced Lank aster, not Lan kaster.

7)You know what a "Mummer" is, and are disappointed if you can't catch at least highlights of the parade.

8)You know what "Punxsutawney Phil" is, and what it means if he sees his shadow.

9)The first day of buck and the first day of doe season are school holidays.

10)You know how to get 'rid' of things and how to read up.

11) You can use the phrase "fire hall wedding reception" and not even bat aneye.

12)You can't go to a wedding without hearing the "Chicken Dance," at least one polka and either an Italian song (sung in Italian,) or "Hava Nagila."

13) At least five people on your block have electric "candles" in all or most their windows all year long.

14)You know what a "Hex sign" is.

15) You know what a "State Store" is, and your out-of-state friends find itincredulous that you can't purchase liquor at the mini-mart.

16) You own only 4 condiments: salt, pepper, mustard and ketchup.

17) Words like "hoagie," "crick," "chipped ham," "dippy eggs", "sticky buns,""shoo-fly pie," "lemon sponge pie", "pierogies" and "pocketbook" actually mean something to you.

18)You can eat cold pizza (even for breakfast) and know others who do the same.(Those from NY find this "barbaric.")

19)You not only have heard of Birch Beer, but you know it comes in severalcolors: Red, White, Brown, and Gold.

20)You know several places to purchase or that serve Scrapple, Summer Sausageand Hot Bacon Dressing

21) You can eat a cold soft pretzel from a street vendor without fear and enjoyit. It almost always comes with mustard.

22)You know the difference between a cheese steak and a pizza steak sandwich,and know that you can't get a really good one out side PA, except AtlanticCity on the boardwalk.

23)You live for summer, when street and county fairs signal the beginning offunnel cake season.

24) You know that Blue Ball, Intercourse, Paradise, Climax, Bird-in-Hand,Beaver, Moon, Virginville, Mars, and Slippery Rock are PA towns. (and thefirst three were consecutive stops on the Reading RR)

25) You know what a township, borough, and commonwealth are.

26)You can identify drivers from New York, New Jersey, Maryland or otherneighboring states by their unique and irritating driving habits.

27)A traffic jam is 10 cars waiting to pass a horse-drawn carriage on thehighway in Lancaster County. You know several people who have hit deer more than once.

28)You carry jumper cables in your car and your female passengers know how touse them.

29)You still keep kitty litter, starting fluid, de-icer, or a snowbrush in yourtrunk, even if you now live in the south.Driving is always better in winter because the potholes are filled with snow.

30) As a kid you built snow forts and leaf piles that were taller than you were.

31) Your graduating class consisted of mostly Polish, German, and Italian names.

32)You know beer doesn't grow in a garden but you know where to find a beergarden.

33) You also know someone who lives "down the lane".

34) You actually understand all this and send it on to other Pennsylvanians or former Pennsylvanians! YEAH! ! THAT'S "PA" AND WE LOVE IT.

Send it to people that never lived in PA and confuse them.

42 Things that make you know you are Italian

2007-02-08T08:04:00.000-08:00

01. You have at least one relative who wore a black dress every day foran entire year after a funeral.

02. You spent your entire childhood thinking what you ate for lunch waspronounced "sangwich."

03. Your family dog understood Italian.

04. Every Sunday afternoon of your childhood was spent! visiti ng yourgrandparents and extended family.mama mia, that's a big meat ball!

05. You've experienced the phenomena of 150 people fitting into 50square feet of yard during a family cookout.

06. You were surprised to discover the FDA recommends you eat threemeals a day, not seven.

07. You thought killing the pig each year and having salami, c'apacollo,pancetta and prosciutto hanging out to dry from your shed ceiling was absolutely normal. (Wow, that's really Italian!)

08. You ate pasta for dinner at least three times a week, and everySunday, and laughed at the commercial for Wednesday is Prince Spaghettiday. I maka a meata ball you can't refuse! ...forrgetttabbboutit!badda bing! ~!

09. You grew up thinking no fruit or vegetable had a fixed price and thatthe price of everything was negotiable through haggling.

10. You were as tall as your grandmother by the age of seven.

11. You thought everyone's last name ended in a vowel.

12. You thought nylons were supposed to be worn rolled to the ankles.

13. Your mom's main hobby is cleaning.

14. You were surprised to find out that wine was actually sold instores.

15. You thought that everyone made their own tomato sauce.

16.You never ate meat on Christmas Eve or any Friday for that matter.

17. You ate your salad after the main course.

18. You thought Catholic was the only religion in the world.

19. Your were beaten at least once with a wooden spoon or broom.!

20. You thought every meal had to be eaten with a hunk of bread in yourhand.

21. You can understand Italian but you can't speak it.

22. You have at least one relative who came over on the boat.

23. All of your uncles fought in a World War.

24. You have at least six male relatives named Tony, Frank, Joe orLouie.

25. You have relatives who aren't really your relatives.

26. You have relatives you don't speak to. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

27. You drank wine before you were a teenager.

28. You relate on some level, admit it, to the Godfather and theSopranos.

29. You grew up in a house with a yard that didn't have one patch of dirt that didn't have a flower or a vegetable growing out of it.

30. Your grandparent's furniture was as comfortable as sitting on plastic. Wait!!!! You were sitting on plastic.

31. You thought that talking loud was normal.

32. You thought sugared almonds and the Tarantella were common at all weddings.

33. You thought everyone got pinched on the cheeks and money stuffed in their pockets by their relatives.

34. Your mother is overly protective of the males in the family nomatter what their age.

35. There was a crucifix in every room of the house.

36. Wakes would be held in someone's living room.

37. You couldn't date a boy without getting approval from your father.(Oh, and he had to be Italian.)

38. You called pasta "macaroni".

39. You dreaded taking out your lunch at school.

40. Going out for a cup of coffee usually meant going out for a cup of coffee over Zia's house.

41. Every condition, ailment, misfortune, memory loss and accident was attributed to the fact that you didn't eat something.

42. Those of you who get this...KNOW who to pass it on to! CIAO!

"If you can't do it in style why do it"

2007-01-17T18:01:00.000-08:00

My favorite quote from the Chariman of the Board...

Just about the coolest picture ever.

The following pic was from when Frank was arrested for making a married woman want to jump his bones...My idol.. I'm working on getting this to occur with Ms. Madison. :-)

Can you even imagine. Getting arrested for that I mean not me with Ms. Madison. I can do that without help...imagining I mean... Get your mind out of the gutter.

Have a great day.

Tigger

Long Vacation ,back to Flying

2007-01-17T17:44:00.000-08:00

I had the displeasure of flying in Delta's CRJ aircraft
last week. This is the regional jet that Delta uses
to fly anywhere in the country. To Delta flying from
Atlanta to Montreal is a Region. To their defense it is
a region. Its called the eastern seaboard. Not really
my beef however although as I have noted in previous posts
it is a very uncomfortable airplane.

I was listening to the safety instructions on this airplane
and I it made me chuckle. I had a goober in back of my
talking shit to a female passenger. He was trying to impress
her with the breadth and width of his inocuous airplane knowledge.
He was assuring her how safe the airplane is. This is the
same type of airplane that exploded by going off the
runway in Louisville awhile back. Sounds safe to me. Well
I took it upon myself to rewrite the flying instructions.

What they say: In the event of a water landing your seat
cushion can be used as a floation device. Simply reach down
and pull the seat cushion up and take it with you when exiting
the aircraft.

What they mean to say: In the event of a water landing your
seat cushion can be used as a floatation device. Well it
has to be useful for something. Personally I would like it
to be able to act as a seat cushion. In reality though it
is not a coast guard certified floatation device for off
shore ocean use. All of which is irrelavant as if this
aircraft makes a water landing it doesn't have enough boyancy
to weight ratio to keep it afloat long enough to grab your
seat cushion or even get out the door. So in the event of a
water landing. You are going to die.

What they say: There are two exits on this airplane located at
the front of the aircraft, there are two emergency exits
located at row 8. In the event of an emergency proceed to the
nearest exit. Please note this may be behind you.

What they mean to say: In the event of a emergency landing common
protocol is to liberally disperse yourself over a 200ft area.
In the unlikely event this aircraft doesn't explode on impact
Please proceed to the nearest hole in the cabin. They will be
located near any structure stress points such as where the wings
attach to the center, where the tail attaches, or where the
exit doors meet the cockpit.

What they say: The cabin is pressurized for your comfort. In the
event of a loss in cabin pressure pannels overhead will open to reveal oxygen masks. Take the mask nearest to you and cover your nose and mouth. If you are traveling with someone who needs assistance then put your mask on first before assisting others.

What they mean to say: The cabin is presuurized for your survival
in the event of a loss in cabin pressure unless we are below 30,000
feet the oxygen depravation is actually the least of your worries.
Cabin pressure loss is normally associated with a hole in the cabin
somewhere. The intent of the yellow mask attached with the fish tank tubing is to distract you until a) something gets sucked thru the hole that is bigger than the hole, thus plugging the leak, or b) the plane shreds itself apart in air.

What they say: Your seatbelts should be fastened at all times. To
buckle your seat belt place the notched end into...blah blah blah..

What they mean to say: Jackass if you don't know how to use a fucking seatbelt do us all a favor and don't leave the house. A seatbelt is very important for body notification in the event of an accident. All testing indicates that placing seat belts in a train was pointless as the force of your brain crushing against the front of your skull at 100 plus miles an hour was pretty much instantly fatal to most of the crash test dummies. If you stay seatbelted, again in the unlikely event this plane doesn't explode on impact it will make the job of the NTSB much easier.

What they say: Our primary purpose is for your safety.

What they mean to say: Our customer service blows but you can't complain about it if our purpose isn't to serve you. Caveat: If Madison is your flight attendant this rule does not apply.

Well gotta go.

Regards,

Tigger

Go a gamblin...In Italian Style

2006-12-13T22:09:00.000-08:00

Man has it been a hell month. The following is a recount of the trip
my cousins and I took to Atlantic City. It should be noted that as far
as I can tell. Italians suck at gambling. Or probably more appropriately my family sucks at gambling. I believe that this is primarily due to the fact that they are by in large fucking morons more so than "being Italians". I mean the claim to fame of some of these guys is sticking their dicks out the faces of pumpkins as you have read in an earlier post. Age has not seemed to progress us up farther on the evolutionary ladder very much. Booze is to be drunk, gambling is to be done, and women are to be won. Or as my buddy William Shakespeare would say...."She is woman...Therfore to be won".

For my part the first two hold very little interest to me. Booze is a means of escape. Since I don't care for crutches I shy away from it. Gambling is a waste of money. The women to be won part however fits me nicely. My cousins and I normally play the phone number game. The group picks a woman in the vicinity and you have to get this woman's phone number. The challenge is that normally the women that are chosen appear either high maintenance, attached, or un attainable as in you are "out of your league".

This to me is fun as I do not get intimidated by getting shot down. I am far from an expert but what I have learned is that if a women shoots you down. Even brutally. What it means is that the isn't interested. Her opinion of you is not actually reflective of you, your worth, or your place on the planet in anyway. Everyone is full of crap in some way. Embarce your inner gooberness. In my opinion women respond to confidence. Even strong willed women seem to like a man that will take them. Except phone Doms...There is no sex with a phone Dom. Sorry distracted...Where was I.

My favorite opening lines are.

1) Hi my name is Tigger. Can I flirt with you?
2) Hi do mind if I stare at you from over here.
3) You know, I've always wanted to sleep with you. (Only used in college when drunk)
4) I have this magic watch that can actually talk to me. Seriously, it's saying something right now." Put ear to watch. "It says that you're not wearing any underwear, is that true?." [No.] "Oh..." Tap watch a few times. "Damn thing must be a couple hours fast."
5) Can I buy you a drink or do you just want the money?
6) You see my cousin over there? [Point to cousin who waves from afar] He wants to know if YOU think I'M cute.

I don't remember if any of them work to be quite honest. I believe I have had success with 1, 4, 6. Most of the time you don't need a "line" though. You just need to make em smile. Most people spend much of their day not smiling, and most people want to be happy. I'm told that my attributes are eyes, voice, and humor. Always play to your strengths. If you aren't Brad Pitt it doesn't mean that everyone is going to flame you.

(Authors Note: Miss Maddy...Look into my eyes and listen to the sound of my voice...You are getting very sleepy...sleepy...sleepy. When you awake you will want to ravish the next Tigger you speak to..) Sorry just trying to use my strengths to gain undue influence. Just ignore me... Unless you are Miss Maddy, in which case you are still sleepy...sleepy... ah nevermind.

All this being said the woman that they picked out for me shot me from the sky. By line 3 of our conversation I was calling for my wing man...."Goose...Talk to me Goose...Alert one is totally defensive."

As I found out after we "became friends" she was married to a very rich guy who was gambling. I ain't saying she's a gold digger...but she wasn't going for no broke..broke. :-) We did have a great conversation despite the fact that she stuck a rocket up my butt. Which is solely Ms. Madison's job. What was she thinking.

Well gotta run. More rambling later. Must sleep.

Tigger

Thanksgiving Day - Italian Style

2006-11-28T12:16:00.000-08:00

Never was a holiday embraced more readily by an immigrant population than TG Day. People think that the avarice meal served on TG is wholly American. Sorry to disappoint you but Italians call TG a good excuse for a normal family get together meal. If your TK dinner has less then 10 people and you gain less than 10 pounds you are not at an Italian household. As all of my S.O.'s over the years have said. It must be experienced to be believed. I would have to believe this to be true.

TG dinner at my family's is akin to watching a Sopranos, Good Fellows, God Father, movie minus the guns and violence. Most of my family are in law enforcement the military as opposed to the Mafia...Well except for Big Mike, and the Wilmington side of the family that we no longer associate with. So no one brings their guns, or business into my grandmothers home. That way no one gets arrested and no one gets the humiliation of getting their ass kicked by a 90 year old woman. Who in her words, nobody too big for a Backlava. When I got old enough and smart mouthed enough I asked my grandmother why she wanted to give me a fish. Apparently a Backalav is a rather broad flat fish and at one time used in the old country to swat youngsters. Since it is not readily available in the US any broad hard object will suffice as I found out that day. Nothing like getting whooped on the front porch by an old lady. The nice thing is your friends could only tease you quietly as any parent or grandparent in my neighborhood could issue an ass whoopping to any child. If you got caught teasing someone about an ass kicking it was your turn next. Most of the neighborhood was related anyway. The interesting thing about Italians is that anyone who comes in your house is an Aunt or Uncle. So anyone related or not is related to you. It takes you a while to find out who your actual blood relatives are. Amazingly enough this is what I miss the most about "the good ole days". Everyone in the neighborhood watched out for one another. I remember vividly when the first non Italians moved into the block. Don and Susan. Man what a culture shock it must have been. They were white Anglo-Saxon protestants,and farm folk at that. They were of course invited to TG dinner. I don't know if they ever warmed up to the Uncle Don and Aunt Susan label. Later on when all the kids reached teen years everone converted from Aunt and Uncle to Mom and Dad. Everyone called each others parents Mom and Dad when we were in their house. Otherwise they were Aunt and Uncle again. It is an affection for others not really related to you that is getting lost. I know when I was in College I called all of my friends parents Mom and Dad after I got to know them. All of them seemed to really get a kick out of it when their real kids explained it to them, and would invite me over all the time.

At anyrate enough of the trip down memory lane. Thanks Giving this year was the same as normal. Too much food. Too many people. :-) New women on TK day get the benefit of being fawned on by 20+ Italian guys of various ages. As a new introduction to the event you may or may not be Italian. Most of the women brought in are not actually. Particularly in my family. Our female ancestors must have really liked the marauding Huns because we to a man have a thing for Tall Blonds. Just as a heads up. The fawning on the new woman may seem like you have died and gone to heaven. Until you meet up with the other women in attendance. Especially those who are not Italian who remember when they were the new one. There is of course a flip side which my cousin Tony found out this year. When you come to an event you have to dress for the event. Tony decided to bring a lovely young lady to TK Dinner this year. She was a bit how shall we say...Trashy. Dressed a like a prostitute, with a makeup job apparently done by Tammy Fae Baker. My great uncle who was in the navy every half hour or so would look over at her and say. Do I know you??? You look so familiar. She kept saying no I don't think so.. Well this went on and on all day until the pasta course. Dinner goes Apps, Soup, Fish course, Pasta Course, Meat course, Salad, Dessert, then stomach pumping and in extreme cases a hospital visit. At anyrate during the pasta course my uncle from the head of the table exclaims that he knows where he knows her from... You are Naval Nancy...and he adds, that slut did the whole damn base... You could have heard a pin drop. I had never seen my aunt give the Italian death stare before. Tony Soprano, and Al Pachino, Even Robert DiNiro would have been proud of her. All of the guys were of course putting their heads down and snickering as my grandmother walked around the table with a spatula in her hand pointing it around till everyone got back to eating. The next laughter eruption occurring when she slapped her brother on the back of the head with it.

This seemed to put the girl at ease. To her credit. Hell I would have left but god bless her I don't think she had a clue as to what was occurring. I guess stupid people go thru life a bit more blissfully than others.

The rest of the dinner was taken up with the normal family banter of sports, politics, who has the worse illness, and a round of "God bless them but,". For those of you unfamiliar with the game this is where the ladies group around the table after dinner. The men folk gather in the living room to watch football and discuss women and politics. The "God bless them but" game is rather simple to play. This is where you gossip about others but it is perfectly acceptable if you preface the statement with God Bless them. The most hienous crap can be said about someone as long as God bless them is placed in front of it. Here are some examples. "God bless her but I heard that she got genital herpes from doing the entire police force.", or "God bless him but that poor bastard is so fat he hasn't seen whats below his belt in years.". Then someone makes a remark about one of my uncles not preceded with "God bless him", eliciting laughter, and the obligatory remark from the uncle in question, "Don't make me come in there.." The only acceptable reason for a male to be in the dining room post dinner is to grab more dessert. Other than Little Mikey of course. Little Mike is a little light of foot. God bless him. :-) Apparently the winner of God Bless them but is the woman
who can make all of the other women go "Oooohhhh madun". Not sure what that means.
But I'm pretty sure it must be Italian for "I can't top that one"

The living room conversation normally centers around politics. I am a bit of an outsider in the family. I am relatively conservative. My official party is Libertarian but I generally vote more conservatively than not. This of course elicits a melee as everyone else is a Democrat. Why are they Democrats you may ask.Well its because, and I quote, "The Dems stand by da fuckin unions, dipshit." This in turn gets a holler out from the dinning room about "not cursing around the god damn kids again." The logic of pointing out that Bill Clinton, a Democrat sponsored the bill to give China preferred trade status and all but kill manufacturing and trade unions in the US, is of no relavance. Bill Clinton is a god amoung men. Personally I believe this to be because he found out how to get a BJ from a much younger woman, at work, and have it be ok with the wife because he said he was sorry. If Hillary was Italian, Monica would be able to give better BJ's today as she would be missing some teeth. Of course Bill would in turn be missing testicles so it would be of little point.

On we went throughout the rest of the day yelling at the T.V. set. Vinny says,"Da fuckin Cowboys... I hope lightning strikes the fuckin field. I hate those fuckin bastards.", Tigger says, "They are playing in a dome dumbass", Vinny says,"Fuck you, you fucking Republican", Grandmother says, "Shut up in there before I get up"

Ahhhh the holidays.

More posts to come. Next up. Italians go to Atlantic City NJ..

New Meeting Game

2006-11-16T06:34:00.000-08:00

Hey there everyone I have a new game for the meetings I have to go to. It is called Scanners... Scanners as you may or may not recall is a movie from the 70's I believe. The Tigger was a cub at the time sorry. At any rate the premise of this movie was that there are cultivated telekinetic people that are used to commit assassinations. You could tell when they were trying to do this as they would get this really stern concentration action going. Kinda like they were
passing a stone.

So I sit in my meetings and stare across the table and see if I can make my co-workers noses bleed. Which is apparently a primary indication that your brain is being turned to mush. You have to internally make the scanner sound effects when you are doing it, or it will simply never work. In my mind I have stored this sound effect as eeeeee...eeeeeee....eeeeee...eeeee sound although I could be crossing my movie sound effects though. So feel free to make whatever noise would indicate to you that you are sending massive amounts of kinetic energy into the brain of a co-worker. With the intention crushing their skull.

It has the added benefit of looking like your are listening intently to what they are saying...Well or that you have really bad gas.

Well I'm off to turn some co-workers brains int scrambled eggs.... Wish me luck.

Trip to Puerto Rico

2006-11-13T21:33:00.000-08:00

Wow what a dump. I read that Puerto Rico has the most vibrant economy in the Caribbean.

This must be akin to ranking the best lookout on the Titanic. This place away from the beaches is uniquely unpleasant.

Since I had the pleasure of going for business I was not at the beach resorts. My company was actually too cheap to put me into a hotel so I got to stay in someone's pueblo. Joy.

Some things to note about Puerto Rico.

Contrary to popular opinion all Puerto Ricans do not speak English. They don't even kinda all speak English.You are about as likely to find a bi-lingual person in the states as you are there.

The police always have their lights on in San Jaun. They are not trying to pull you over apparently unless they have their guns drawn.

Although I cannot even fathom what would constitute a ticketable offense here. Road signs, painted lines,all traffic control devices are merely suggestions. Until you remember that neither the car or insurance belong to you it can be quite stressful.

To a Puerto Rican an Italian is Puerto Rican unless proven otherwise. This proof is apparently not the phrase I do not speak Spanish. Said in English or Spanish.

To an American tourist an Italian is also a Puerto Rican. As I got approached at the mall by a couple who asked me very loudly and slowly if I spoke English. Apparently if a Puerto Rican speaks English they are also retarded. You either speak it or you do not. I would imagine volume and speed are not relevant on the phrase. Do you speak English.

The only appropriate response to this question of course is, "Inglese??...Si...Si". They then also very loudly andslowly asked me if I knew how to get to the airport fromthe mall. I then started to rattle off every Spanish word I know. The key to this chirade is of course copious pointing. Make sure you point in different directions andmake swooping motions as if going around a curve. Throw in English words every now and then so they know you are giving directions.

Mucha diversion

If you think they speak Spanish at all this won't work. In this case say the following:
Americano mugriento. Pare contaminando mi aire con el aliento. Muarase, muarase, muarase.

Which I'm told roughly translates to: Filthy American. Stop polluting my air with your breath. Die, Die, Die.

Gas pumps. This isn't really a Puerto Rico thing I don'tthink. I was refilling my rental car on Friday before I left for home. Well apparently they don't have automatic shutoffson PR gas pumps. I was day dreaming and when I came to I hadgas running down my leg and I was standing in a puddle of gas. Now I told you that story to tell you this one. While going thru security I had to pass thru one of those bomb sniffer machines. Apparently large amounts of gasoline fumes make that detector detect. I thought everyone was going to about take a dump right there. I'm attempting to explain in English, mentally retarded Spanish, and now Italian that I am using as Spanish as to why I have set this detector off.

That has some pucker power I can tell you. I doubted that the impending cavity search would be conducted by my favorite TSA agents.

I understand why to my Puerto Rican friends Jennifer Lopez is just cute. You can't swing your package without hitting a woman with a tasty looking butt and thin waist. If I wasn't afraid the little peener would fall off I would have found me a senorita...Brothels are readily available you
just don't want to go to them

I throw this next question out to the cosmos. Before you leave Puerto Rico you have to go thru USDA food inspection.They check your bag for fruits and vegtables. They apparently do not want you to bring bugs back to the mainland. My question is of course....Ahhhh why would you bring fruitor vegtables back to the US from anywhere? I find it difficultto believe that you live in such a supermarket free zone thatyou have to bring what would amount to a couple of days worthof perishables back with you???

I'm confused but it would hardly be the first time.

An interesting crossroad

2006-10-19T12:08:00.000-07:00

I was in a chat room yesterday. I won't bother to say which one as I
would imagine it is highly irrelevant. At anyrate at one point I looked
at the clock and realized I had been following this banal conversation
for 20min and found that while the faces changed, the conversation had not.

Chat rooms are interesting. They are like a playgrounds for adults. Or
at least what will pass for adults in this context. When someone leaves or comes in everyone talks about the person. Whether they caused a ruckus or not. To test the theory I logged out and logged back in under a different name. People were actually taking the time to talk about the fact that I was rude and didn't have much to say, and didn't follow chat room etiquette or something. What was the conversation I had on this evening. Did I say that George Bush was a pedophile, did I curse the Koran, did I say that Macs suck ass, or that PC's suck ass... Nope the sum total of my conversation on this day was the following. Hello.

I have actually come to the conclusion that I would rather spend my evening staring at the ceiling of my hotel room than actually engage in conversation with most people. I generally go to chat rooms looking for a person as opposed to anything else. Even the desire to speak to this one person doesn't motivate me to login to chat rooms anymore.

The allowable conversation topics seem to be.

"I need a woman to...(fill in the blank)" - Ah yeah like no shit. You and 100% of the non-gay male population of the planet earth need the same thing.

"Hi how are you???"
Acceptable response one ("I am fine and you?")
Acceptable response two ("Not so good and you?")
Acceptable response three ("I need a woman to...")

"Boy is the weather... (fill in the blank)"
Acceptable response ("Yeah it sure is, or It is nice here")

On and on and on. Whats worse is that if you go to a chat room all the time something happens to you. You begin to think it is like YOUR clubhouse and that
what you want means something other than you have a sad and sorry existence.

I think if I have to engage in a chat room again my brain will melt out of my head and on to the floor.

Sorry I'm overly testy today.

Regards,

Tigger

The birth of a Tigger

2006-10-17T19:06:00.000-07:00

The Tiggers 38th is coming up this week.

It seems like only yesterday that the Tigger was
bouncing around in diapers. Not sure why but I have never
responded well to birthdays. Milestones B-days are worse
than others. Luckily I haven't had many of them yet.
I'm also a terrible drinker and I rarely do it as I get
particularly stupid. But birthdays bring out the booze.

My 20th birthday was spent at a bar getting sauced and
attempting to and successfully picking up an actress
from college. I had 12 B-52's that evening which is like
a Kalua and cream. She didn't have to get me that
drunk at this stage of my life. My roommate had thought
I had died as I didn't come home for two days. Partially
from working off the effects of alcohol poisoning. Partially
from working off a fantasy I have had since the 6th grade
when I wanted to jump the bones of Ms. Berry.

When I turned 25 I had what could only be described as
mid life meltdown. I drank a quart of Electric Lemonade
that evening. Which I didn't realize was premixed so I added vodka to it.

I spent the evening as "The Great Cornholio" seeking TP for my
bunghole. Obviously my finest hour. If you aren't familiar
with electric lemonade it is a neon blue color. The projectile
blue vomit struck a rather Exorcist type cord with me. I was
half expecting for my head to spin around.

My 30th birthday was spent with two of my best female friends.
We drank a LARGE bottle or two of Tekillya. From what I can
remember the three of us plastered every corner that evening. I woke
up on a king sized bed in my hotel room, with bottles of booze,
used condoms, and women strewn all about. The best thing that
can be said is that we used condoms. By all accounts the ladies
enjoyed themselves completely. Aside from my recent penchant for
a certain phone dom this is not an activity that I engage in randomly.
I felt particularly ashamed that I could not remember having sex
with these two beautiful women irregardless of their apparent enjoyment.

35 was spent on a sailboat at a Marina in Maryland. The early evening
of which was spent with a couple of 50 year old gay guys They were trying to turn yours truely into their boy toy or something. I am happy to report that my sphincter is still in shape. Apparently even being juiced up on Apple Martinis is not enough for me to agree to have sex with men. A man has to have his standards I guess.

Next year. My next milestone I promise to avoid alcohol in all fashions. :-)

To all having a birthday this week. Happy birthday and cover that
sphincter.

Tigger

Tigger is a Muslim...Allah Akbar

2006-10-12T08:23:00.000-07:00

I was on a flight about 1 year ago. This flight like most of my flights was a late departure out of Cincinnati. I was lucky enough to get the upgrade so I was relatively blissful. At this point I hadn’t yet developed a fetish for flight attendants so I was dutifully filling out my travel logs. If my boss is reading this entry this was when I gave a crap about your meaningless paper trail. As you aware by now I have lost that loving feeling. Anyway…

The man sitting next to me was agitated for some reason and mumbling to himself about Arabs and what not. So I stopped working for a bit and just listened without appearing to be listening. He mentioned aloud that it was appalling that they let Arabs sit up in first class so close to the cockpit.

I trying to insert some common sense back into the conversation I indicated that you really can’t tell people where they are allowed to sit.

The man looked over at me. If he could have killed me he would have. Well now when someone talks like this you just gotta look. So I casually peer over my shoulder. Fully expecting with this ruckus to see someone with a red and white checkered dish towel on his head and shirt that says Allah Hates the USA. What I saw shocked me. Pasty white Faces. It couldn’t get more protestant in that cabin if we were flying out of Belfast. Now I’m really confused what is this idiot talking about. The flight attendant came down the isle doing flight attendant things when the guy stopped her and asked her to move this guy towards the back… Huh? She indicated that it would be really inappropriate to do so. At this point I’m laughing my ass off. This dick weed thinks I’m Arab. I am at this point laughing so hard the guy next to me is so pissed the vein in his temple is sticking out.

I told him that I had a secret. Not that it should matter but I’m Italian you knob not Arab. But I would rather be Arab than a bigoted ass. Hey not that I disagree that I should get profiled, or that we should blindly allow anyone to get on a plane without being checked first. But come on. You have to draw the line somewhere.

The rest of the flight was quiet.

Are we safe yet Senator?

2006-10-09T07:05:00.000-07:00

Unless you have been living in a cave you are aware
that the department of Homeland In-security has created
rules about carrying liquids on board an aircraft.
All terrorists must check their explosive material in
the cargo hold so that it sitting right on top of the
fuel tanks. Probably makes it so that the ensuing
explosion turns the plane into little bitty pieces.
Reducing the chance of hurting anyone on the ground.

Actually someone was really thinking. I would guess
that a checked bomb has an equal chance of blowing
up a bag cart in Atlanta as it does making it onto
the plane with the terrorist.

Well they have since rescinded the prohibition of
carry on liquids. You are now allowed to carry on
3oz bottles of your toiletries, but they must be
in a plastic baggie.

I had an interesting travel experience today. I went to the
airport today dutifully putting my 3 travel size
toiletry items into a plastic baggy. Apparently
my baggy was too big and my hand sanitzer and
cologne had to be confiscated for national security reasons.

So this is my observation of this high tech security
process. You place your items in a baggy so that the
highschool dropout from the TSA can inspect your carry
on liquids. After doing so they can definitively say
that the baggy is of regulation size. Apparently anyone
one who would put stuff in a plastic bag of regulation
size wouldn't be a terrorist. And since this
person from the TSA wouldn't be able to identify an inert
liquid from a volatile one if the bottles were labeled,
"Warning highly explosive material inside this bottle",
they decide with their infinite experience in chemistry
and liquid munitions that they should run this thru the x-ray
machine. Which will reconfim their suspicion that this
is indeed a liquid of undetermined composition and so
therefore must be safe for an airplane.

I mean I really don't expect much from people who
told me to duct tape myself in my house with plastic
wrap in the event of a chemical or biological attack.
I assumed this was to help preserve the body after
you died in your house with the used roll of duct tape
in your hand.

So we can all rest tonight knowing full well that my
oversized baggy failed to make it onto the aircraft.
Of course our boarders are wide open, port security is
beyond a joke. All of which is not relevant. For if
this process makes Americans feel safe, will can easily take
our position as the most insipid morons on the planet. This will force colleges
to turn to other countries to keep GPA's above 2.0 and thus
allowing terrorists to come in on student visas.

Well we may not be safer but at least we get to amuse
the terrorists.

200 Hundred Dollar Hand Job

2006-10-04T06:56:00.000-07:00

I was in California a few weeks back eating dinner at my favorite sushi restaurant. There was a large group of business travelers there that day. We were not really together but you end up together by default when you are eating dinner alone for the 290th time this year.

As with any group of guys the conversation drifted to women.Women being the favorite topic for guys that don't get laid with any consistency. Well everyone decided that we should all go to a strip club.

Stip clubs to me are generally not how I prefer to spend money. You end up dishing much cash to have your testicles put thru the wringer and then you end up going home to finish the job anyway.

Here was the attempt at a convincing argument. I was told that you could go to the VIP room and for 200 dollars get a hand job.

Well my stars. Only 200 dollars? Now maybe it is just me butthat seems to totally lack imagination. I mean unless you don't have a hand you have all the equipment that will come into play to begin with don't you? Hell I have a vivid imagination and as I have proven since I have been old enough to do so. I can complete that task.

(Authors note: So take that Mr. Cardamone. I was able to finish a task in high school. Mr. Cardamone was my high school guidance counselor who essentially told me I was a looser who was going to dig ditches for a living. If I could find someone who didn't want their ditch actually dug. Well Mr. C if you are reading this I am 20 years younger than you are and earn at least 100,000 a year more than you do. So stick that one up your condescending ass.)

Ahem where was I... Ah yes a two hundred dollar handjob. As I was saying, I have a hand. I have an imagination. Sounds like a hot dateto me. Now of course I have discovered a website where I at least only have to pay 2 dollars a min to have a kickbutt lady to indulge my twisted mind. All in all I would say a hell of a deal. Well I guess it wouldn't if I were really having sex as I really don't like to get under the hour mark on that activity. I find that after about 60min most women can't take anymore sucking, fondling, or intercourse. (non scientific observation) But really not relevant as they say. There is no sex in the champagne room. Well there is no sex with a Phone Dom. But if you want to be humiliated than I would look her up. Tell Ms Madison that Tigger sent you. It won't get you anything but it will give her something else to tease me about.

Well in closing as my mother would say if you want to do something correctly you have to put in the time... And this is very true at least when talking about having sex. Of course I'm pretty sure she wasn't talking about this when she told me that over and over again.

Well have a good day. Ms. Madison this rubs for you.

The Airline Paradox

2006-10-02T19:54:00.000-07:00

A couple of years ago after a bunch of congressional hearings one of the big bitches that came out about the airline industry was their lack of communication on all issues. Be it a large or small issue, flying an airline was traveling in an information free zone. I suspect this had a dual role. One was to keep their employees from being dragged thru the terminals by their short and curlies. The other was probably to keep everyone focused on the prize. That prize of course being to arrive at their destination before the onset of extreme old age. I often think that Delta is preparing us all for the rigors of space travel. As it could easily take as long to get to Mars as it does to get to oh say Peoria IL on any given day. In a conversation I had with a Delta gate agent yesterday. We were of course running late. Well in all fairness to Delta we were not late yet. But Once you fly enough you just know. The first tip off is normally that you are boarding a plane that has Delta written on the side. So at any rate I was asking the gate agent what time we would be arriving so that I could reschedule my meeting. Well the gate agent Snidely stated that the flight would be arriving on time. I informed the agent that Delta couldn’t get me somewhere on time if my destination was the end of the fucking departure runway. She stopped speaking to me….Imagine, and we were 3.5 hours late.

Anyway Faced with this scathing criticism by congress Delta adopted a policy of “informing the customer”. How this manifested itself in Deltaese is that you talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, about everything that you possibly can. Without ever saying anything. I have been on numerous flight where the pilot would Interrupt my working revere with inane banter about what were passing over at 38,000 feet.

Pilot: “Well Good Afternoon Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome aboard Delta flight 1496 to…….(long awkward pause) Ontario California. During today’s flight we will be cruising at 38,000 feet and traveling 523 miles per hour. We have a head wind today of 12 knots and clear skies all the way into….(long awkward pause) California.”, Did you ever notice that airplanes use boating terminology to monitor wind speed? Sorry got distracted back to our previous announcement. “Today’s flight will take us over Montgomery Alabama, Then straight over to Pascagoula Mississippi, where we will turn little northward and fly right thru Lubic Texas, to a short hop over to Santa Fe. Where we will lay over for about 30 min, and then we will be off to Salt Lake, After sitting in Salt Lake for an hour for no apparent reason we will take a straight shot into Ontario. Mainly because there isn’t any other place to stop in between there. If you look off to the left side of the aircraft thru the broken cloud cover you will see a shapeless beige dot. If we were at 20 feet instead of 38,000 you would be able to see that this is the Alamo… Did I ever tell you about the time I took the wife and kids to the Alamo…..”. On and On he will go until you are simply begging him to shut the fuck up.

In reality this is part of the master plan. This stream of communication will overload the frontal lobe of the average American causing a complete system shutdown. By the time you are over Des Moines the pilot can actually get 70% of the plane to strain to look out of the right side of the aircraft to ponder at the shapeless gray blob that was the farm house he was born in. This of course is all to distract you from realizing that you are late.

(Authors Note: I regret the disparaging remark about the IQ of the average American. It stems from my hope that there is intelligence somewhere else in the world. Of course I am aware that this is foolish. I mean Christ the French knowingly eat snails…how bright are you if you would eat what by all accounts looks like a lump of snot with garlic on it.)

But where is the Paradox you ask. The Delta paradox comes about when the airline attempts to give travel information that you want to hear. IE when you are departing, and how long it will take to get there. You see Delta as I am sure is true with the other airlines is incapable of telling the truth in regard to this mater. After a while you can start to convert standard time into Delta. Kind of like converting to metric. Example: The pilot comes on and tells you that you are 25th in line to take off. It should be another 20min before we are airborne. What he really means is that flights are planning to take off about 2 min apart and barring any wind, incoming aircraft, or crossing aircraft we will be airborne in 50min.

So is it better to open your mouth and lie or conversely adopt the saying of my high school accounting teacher whose motto was “If you cannot significantly improve upon silence. Then shut the hell up.” That is the question.

Hey I didn’t say it was Hawkins black hole paradox or anything. Gimme a break already…

A life less lived.

2006-09-27T20:38:00.000-07:00

Everything in the world is a miracle. Not sure where
I heard that but it came to me today.

I was driving in farm country. The wilds of Illinois.
Arguing with my boss as normal. I was on my way back to
the hotel having fought with everyone and everything I
had come in contact with on this day. As I came over a
hill I was stunned and I simply hung up on my boss.

I pulled the car over to the side of the road. All was completely
still just the corn rustling in the wind. There are many more
trees than I expected in this part of the country and they are
mostly in a state of full turn and the colors are almost at their
most intense. As the sun made its steady decent to the horizon
everything was ablaze in red and orange. I sat there on the
hood staring at this incredible sight.

I suddenly feel very very small. Mortality honestly hit me today.
When there is nothing left of me, not even a memory, not even this
writing. This scene will be played over and over again without me
as it needs no witness. It does as it has always done and
somehow blessed me today with a beauty untamed, untainted, and as
eternal as I can fathom...

Everything in the world is a miracle.

(A humbled in introspective Tigger)

What we have here is....Failure to communicate

2006-09-26T06:30:00.000-07:00

Is it better to communicate with your customers or not. You decide.

The following email exchange was conducted between myself and Delta Airlines. It occurred during a cost cutting measure where Delta airlines in its typical airline decision making process decided to prorate your mileadge flown based upon the price paid for a ticket. So if the company you worked for only flew on discount tickets you could get between 50 and 75 percent of the miles you actually flew. In this case it turned me from a Platinum flyer to a Gold flyer despite the 154,000 miles I actually flew. I got credit for 98,000. I was displeased. The only thing changed on these emails is my name and I also took my FF number off of it. :-)

***************************************************************

My First email:

To Whom It May Concern:

As odd as this will seem I am writing to thank Delta for giving me half the miles from my travel as I should have gotten. This has turned me from a Platinum flyer to Gold this year. Meaning of course that there is utterly no reason to solely fly with Delta Airlines. I spent the majority of last year fighting with my own company about not flying best fare available for my travel. Delta rewarded me with the continual
disintegration of the FF Program, exceptionally poor baggage handling, and of course the blessing of flying thru Atlanta on practically every flight I took last year. At which Airport I am sure will come as no shock you have the surliest and most unhelpful employees I have encountered in any industry. Well with the possible exception of the Arby's drive thru I used in Orlando last month. The window teller there called me a punk ass whiner when I informed him that nothing in the bag was actually part of my order. But this is obviously more communication than you will get out of an Atlanta gate agent so probably unfair by comparison.

Then of Course there are Delta's improvements to my travel experience enacted this year. Now Delta will not even throw me a bag of pretzels on a coast to coast trip. As I sit here writing this I did get the unique opportunity to pay 3 dollars for a package of animal crackers. Of course I do have an unlimited amount of upgrades, and some partner upgrades that as a Gold flyer I will never EVER be able to use going to the destinations I fly to. Of course I can also electronically put myself on the waitlist for a upgrade that I won't get. I assume this is to give me something to do
while I sit in Atlanta this year. I would of course be remiss if I didn't mention the 50K redemption for a coach class ticket. I attempted to book my thanksgiving travel last month which is the only recreation travel I do a year, and wouldn't you know it, 11 months in advance and all of the normal FF tickets are used up, but for 50K a ticket I can get on the same plane. I won't even comment further on that.

At any rate thanks again. Now that I am allowing my travel office to book whatever fare they can get out of Orlando they are much happier with me, and ultimately it only adds an hour of car travel to my trip. Which I would have spent sitting on the tarmac in Atlanta anyway. I am happy to report to your president that I will be freeing up the seats wasted on my discounted ticketed ass. Now you can let all of those people who have a choice as to how much they pay for tickets take up those seats. Overall it is an interesting approach to wooing frequent flyers.

Best of luck with it.

Sincerely,

Tigger
(Former Frequent Flyer now accidental Flyer)

***************************************************************************

Deltas Response:

Dear Mr Tigger,

Thank you for your e-mail regarding Delta's SkyMiles program.

Mr. Tigger, we value your patronage and appreciate your taking
the time to share your concerns with us. Customer feedback is an
invaluable resource when evaluating our overall operation. Please
accept our most sincere apologies and allow us the opportunity to serve
your travel needs in the future.

We have received your request for mileage credit and have updated your
account.
Sincerely,

Cecelia F
SkyMiles Customer Service Center
http://www.delta.com

*********************************************************************

My Response:

I'm sorry is this response indicating that Delta has seen the error of
its ways. Will re-evaluate my account from last year after giving me
the miledge I should have gotten. Then seeing if I attain Platinum
status based upon the actual number of miles I flew and granting me said
level if appropriate??

Otherwise...

Dear Ms Fayall,

Thank you for standard reply number 55 to a disgruntled frequent flyer.

We who frequently fly Delta airlines greatly appreciate the timely computer automated response to the keyword searched text file KMM575711V60708L0KM. Delta's commitment, or Delta^s commitment, if your search program can't evaluate an apostrophe, to excellence and customer satisfaction is duely noted.

In the event I ever actually ask for a mileage credit I know that the automated sky miles reply machine is up for the task, and make no mistake this fills me customer satisfied joy.

Sincerely,

Tigger
(Just another round body in a really small, really old plane seat)

***********************************************************************
Delta's Reply:

Dear Tigger, ,

Thank you for your e-mail regarding Delta's SkyMiles program.

I am sorry to hear that you are disappointed with our reply to your request for Platinum status.

We receive many inquiries from customers who are unable to achieve the required Medallion Qualification Miles total. Since we want to give everyone the same consideration and maintain the integrity of the program, I hope you will understand that we must continue to decline
your request for Medallion status.

Mr. Tigger, we appreciate that you took the time to send us your comments. We would like to thank you for your support during these challenging times in the travel industry. We look forward to serving you in the future.

We appreciate your interest in Delta Air Lines.

Sincerely,

Dee O
SkyMiles Customer Service Center
http://www.delta.com

*********************************************************************

My reply:

Dear Ms. O',

When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

You probably are thinking to yourself what does the proceeding paragraphs have to do with the correspondence chain.

Now you know how I feel.

Sincerely,

Tigger

Flying the Friendly Skies again. No Madison is not here

2006-09-24T06:02:00.000-07:00

Seemingly the favorite mode of transportation for business travel is the airplane. Why this is the favorite mode has yet to be determined, but I almost sure it probably has something to do with all those points everyone is always bragging about.

Mileage points are seemingly like military rank for a number of frequently flyers. Most will talk about being a platinum million miler with the same reverence as if they just told you that Mother Theresa was their aunt, and they spent most of their younger life performing life saving cancer surgery on nomadic desert Bedouins across the planet. What it actually means is that you have a failed, failing, or non-present relationship with your Significant Other. You have minimal or no friends. You have minimal or no hobbies. You have minimal or no sex life. No phone sex operators and other forms of internet porn do not count. And you probably have grass that is 10 inches tall. But this
is for another post.

There was a rumor a while back that air travel was a fast mode of travel which is why it was selected above all others. I find this to be an accurate classification when compared to say walking or stagecoach. I spend most of my travel experience sitting around airports with other frequent flyers betting on when we are actually going to leave. The flight schedule in the airline industry isn’t really a schedule as you know one. It is merely a recommendation as to when you should get to the airport and wait for them to decide to leave. It is in reality minimum time to departure. As in you will never leave before this time, but actual departure could be dependant on anything in between nuclear war and ant migrations in Atlanta.

A group of us one day spent most of our time at the Chicago O’Hare airport coming up with an acronym for the airline for which we were all Platinum frequent flyers. What 3 delayed hours and countless years of experience and education came up with was: Doesn’t Ever Leave The Airport. Now if I were the head of a major airline like oh I don’t know Delta. I would be concerned that my frequent flyers spent enough time in airports to come up with amusing anagrams disparaging my companies name. Quite the contrary actually. The only time an airline seems to acknowledge that humans actually make up the majority of their cargo is when you are no longer their cargo. At that point you are a highly valued customer whose needs are important. This is the sweet spot of air travel. Kinda like the spot on the back of a woman’s knee that when stroked makes them go all goosy. You are in the zone. The zone normally occurs when an opposing airline is trying to woo high milers away from the competition. If this royal treatment didn’t last only 2 weeks or less it could be beneficial try it more often. This is the time of travel nirvana. A time when customer service rings throughout the industry and you aren’t viewed as a whining, yet pliable piece of luggage. To be fair there are other times when travel nirvana can occur but they are usually interrupted by waking up from a sound sleep and involve Madison, a thong, and thigh high boots. But I’m getting off track.

I think this is best demonstrated by example. I was on a flight from Philadelphia to Daytona beach about 2 months ago. If you drove from Philly to Daytona it would take you roughly 12 to 14 hours. Less if you don’t break except for gas and like to drive fast.

I boarded a plane at 2.pm in Philly got off the plane in Daytona at 10:40am. I wish again I could say this was the exception instead of the norm.

Wedding Soup Receipe

2006-09-24T05:56:00.000-07:00

First let me say that Italian wedding soup has nothing to do with weddings. Zuppa Maritata according to Grandma ma translates colloquially to "things that go together well". Which is really only true like 50% of the time in marriages.

Zuppa maritata is usually associated with the southern-most parts of Italy. The phrase "Italian wedding soup" appears to be a an Italain American creation.
I have found as many recipes for this soup as I have found breast sizes.My Grand Mothers and now with my recipe are the best. :-)

Prep Time...: About an hour and a half (You will see why)Cooking Time: Min 5 hours. Preferred 12 hours. The longer you let it cook the better it will taste. In my opinion at least.Serves 10...: With seconds and left overs...
Ingredients:

1 Whole Chicken
1lb Ground Beef
1lb Ground Pork
Italian Bread Crumbs
1 eqq
2 heads of garlic or (1 head of garlic and one jar of minced garlic)
About 10 Leaves of Fresh Basil
Fresh Oregano about 10 sprigs will do
Dried Oregano (for meatballs)
Dried Basil (for meatballs)
1 medium size onion
4 scallions
10 stalks of Celery
1lb of Endive ( about 3 decent size heads)
2 heads of Escarole or 2 bags of fresh Spinach
1 32oz can of low sodium, fat free chicken broth
1 block of Parmesan or Romano cheese (Yes a block ya lazy bastard)
8oz of pastini or orzo.

Step 1: Pour about 16 cups of water into a stock pot.

Step 2: Dress your chicken. WASH it, WASH it, I'll say it again WASH it.

Step 3: Place your chicken in the soup pot and bring to a boil for about 1 hr. The goal is to get the fat..You know the good stuff outof the skin without getting the skin in the soup. May need to keep an eye on it your first time. You also want to make sure that the chicken is cooked completely.

Step 4: CLEAN ANY SPOT THE RAW CHICKEN CAME IN CONTACT WITH!!!

Step 5: After the chicken is cooked pull it out of the broth. Allow the chicken to cool off a bit. Get rid of the skin and get as much of thechicken off of the bone as possible and place back into stock. If you really like lots of chicken get two birds or even get some chicken breasts and cut them up and put them in the stock.

Step 6: Add the 32o can of chicken broth. I do this because I like a strong chicken stock, and I like it to be more of a soup than a stew.

Step 7: Remove all chicken carnage from your cooking area and get a clean vegetable cutting area and/or pull out the food processor.

Step 8: Chop all of your celery, scallions, and onions finely and place in soup stock. If you cook the soup long enough these items should pulverize to paste in the soup. Really impatient use the food processor to turn these items into the consistency of baby food and throw it in.

Step 9: Stem the fresh basil and oregeno and place leaves in soup stock.

Step 10: Peel each clove in one of your heads of garlic. Be sure to not break the clove. Cut off the base end of the clove. It is the crusty end. Nothing is as unappealing as seeing something that looks like a scab floating in your soup. Place the whole cloves into the soup. This has two purposes. One it provides the great flavor as it slowly simmers the oil from the garlic out. What is the other benefits....

Gas to get to the vegetable market, 3 dollars, Finding the perfect head of garlic, 1 dollar, watching the face of your non Italian friend pop a whole clove of garlic in their mouth at Christmas Dinner...Priceless

Take the other head of garlic and mince it up, or grab your jar of minced garlic and put it aside for the meatballs.

Step 11: Coarsely chop up the Endive and place in stock.

Step 12: Let sit and simmer for 2 hours. You want it cooking but not in a full out rolling boil unless you are pressed for time.

Step 13: Lets make some Meat-a-balls..

Get a mixing pot or open CLEAN area of counter top.

Take the pork and beef and egg and mix together by hand completely. If the mix becomes to watery add bread crumbs until this stops. You should end upwith a ball of meat that is tacky to the touch. Push your fist down into the middle of the ball so that it makes a cup. Add garlic to taste, dried oregano, and basil. Add some more bread crumbs into the bowl and start to knead it again. Pull a piece off and roll it in your hands. If it is sticky add more bread crumbs until it rolls smoothly in your hand. Amount of oregano, garlic and basil are subjective. I normally put like
two heaping table spoons of each.

Now comes the fun part. Get two cooking sheets and put your oven on broil.Start pulling your mix and rolling it into meatballs about the size of a nickel,or less....No cheating.
After you finish one sheet place it in the oven, and start on the next one.When you are done half the sheet go and roll the meatballs in the oven so that they are brown on as much as you can get. It isn't critical.By the time you are done the second sheet the first will be done. Take themeat and put them in a strainer to get the grease off then place in stock.Repeat until beef is gone, or you have enough meatballs for your soup. :-)

Step 14: 1 hour before serving the soup chop up the escarole coarsely and place in soup. Or place the bags of spinach in the soup(E-Coli will give the soup that extra BAM!!!)

Step 15: 30min before serving soup place pastini in the soup. The little round pasta balls hold their shape well. Do not do this with Orzo. Cook the orzo per box instructions and place aside. Placing orzo in the soup prior to serving makes it explode in size and become really mushy. When doing orzo I always place a layer of cooked orzo in the bottom of the each soup bowl and then ladel soup over top and mix it up. Works like a champ.

Optional Step: Well not in my family. The soup has PLENTY of flavor but we like to grate up a block of Parmesan cheese and allow everyone to sprinkle to their hearts content, or clotting as it may be.

Leftover soup is never a problem. You should have some but it won't stay in your house unless you let it. I normally get a bunch of plastic containers and let people take it home. It also freezes really really well. The soup is a meal in and of itself so you can use it as a dinner every now and then.When you freeze it you can place the orzo in the container with it. A reheat doesn't seem to hurt it.

ENJOY!!!!

Tigger Darwin Awards

2006-09-21T05:02:00.000-07:00

You all may be familiar with the real Darwin Awards. Where people
are rewarded typically postumously for improving the gene pool by
removing themselves from it. Some of the Darwin awards are actually
urban legend as demonstrated by the Myth Busters on the Discovery
Channel. Great show by the way if you get a chance to view it.

Well I have decided to start the Tigger Darwin Awards. The nonimees
for this award will be alive, but have demonstrated a total lack of
clarity or common sense. And must be in the general news media.

Todays nominee comes from the great land of China. The headline read "Man trying to hug a Panda in stable condition". This as you can imagine piqued my curiosity.

A man in China yesterday got royally shitfaced and then went to the
zoo. Upon seeing the Panda Bears in the pen he decided to leap the
retaining wall and give that bear a hug. Apparently "bear" in Chinese
does not translate into tempermental wild animal with large claws and teeth. Having seen the cuddly 1,000 pound fellows on TV he decided that they were friendly enough to do this with. I'm guessing the alcohol only had minor impact on this thought processing.

As you can imagine he slowly approached the sleeping male Panda. Well the bear woke up. More than probably thinking,"what the hell is this moron doing", or the Chinese equivalent. As the man approached the bear with outstreched arms....outstreched arms, the male bear who only gets sex once a year with a zoo keeper so is probably pretty cranky, bit the man in the leg. The man now pissed off that the bear bit his leg proceeds to kick the bear with the other leg. Mr. Bear being presented and hurt by another appendage bites that one also. Now the guy is profusely bleeding and really pissed off so he bites the bear on the back. The bear who is not amused with this in the least, now claws and bites the man.

Zoo keepers now on the scene subdue the bear with a water hose. Man is taken to hospital for treatment.

Both Bear and Man are well. Man just can't understand what went horribly wrong.

Flying the Friendly Skies Or Are we there yet

2006-09-20T18:20:00.000-07:00

This is my first real entry on the Tigger Talk blog. It is only fitting that it be in reference to something that I spend most of my life doing. Travel.

But not the fun, exciting travel, I'm talking travel for work. If not for the CEO and Head Flight attendant of Maddy Air I would loose whatever tenuous grasp on reality that I have.

The following posts will hopefully give you insight to the wonderful world of known as business travel. Now let me preface this with the fact that I am really just a mini-road warrior. There are many a soul who fly more often and farther than I do. And to those poor unfortunate wretches I have two things to say. Dude quit your job, Dude get a life. Lets continue shall we, as I sit down to start writing this I am in the process of my weekly commute to some place that most people don'tt want to go. I blindly entered into what our captain assures me is a state of art technological marvel.

The Canadian Air Regional Jet or CRJ. I know what you are saying. Tigger wouldn't that acronym be CARJ not CRJ. Very astute of you my little travel buddy. I can only guess that they didn't want acronynm to remind you of the mode of transportation you should be on. At any rate, this particular aircraft has an annoying habit of being late although I suspect this has nothing to do with the technological ability of this tube of aluminum. But I digress...

In Japan did you know that you can get hotel room where the toilet seat is not only heated but it will also powder your butt when you are done. The greatest engineering minds in Canada and the USA can't manage to create a airplane where people with shoulders and heads can fit into the window seat. Now as a person who has both items and is also not a dwarf you can imagine how uncomfortable this trip is.

Which brings me to a point. When you first start to travel you will hear from lots of people in the travel industry. Your safety and comfort are important to us. Airlines, car rental companies, hotels, travel agencies. Everyone...Everyone just has your safety and comfort in mind. After about 3 weeks of professional travel you will realize that this is in a large pile of steamy poop, or as my mother likes to call it a lie. A lie is probably too strong a word. You have to now remember that you are in a semantics industry now. Pulling away from the gate and parking on the tarmac for 3 hours is considered an "on time" departure. I think the saying should actually be, your safety and comfort are a lofty goals that we will exercise no effort to achieve, but by chance it occurs, we will smugly act as if that is the norm. I was on a flight from Daytona Beach to Atlanta, which on non weather day is a 50min flight. For which a certain airline, which will remain nameless as I don't want to be sued, alots 1 hour and 45 min to complete. It isn't even so much that this is the case. The irritation is that they pat themselves on the back when they
get to the gate earlier than the hour and forty-five minutes. Probably the more painful point is that they FREQUENTLY can't do it. I think this demonstrates my point.

The reality is that the airline industry is processing widgets just like any other business. You may think you are human. You will defiantly wave your fist in the air, Coigo Ergo Sum you will shout, which is pretty dumb as most gate agents don't speak English let alone Latin.(Authors Note: I assuming that gate agents don't speak English as most of the ones I encounter won't speak to you). Rest assured though at the end of the day if they didn't have to spend money to heat the cargo hold you would be in a box down below. I know what you frequent flyers are saying, But Tigger wouldn't that be more room than we have now. To that I say Widgets aren't supposed to talk.

To Be Continued

Welcome to the Tigger Den

2006-09-20T11:43:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Tigger Talk.

You will find anything here. Could be thought provoking, could be funny, but it will probably be stupid. Actually you can probably count on the latter. This is just intended as a place for me to spew. Since it is unlikely to be seen by anyone nothing is off limits.

If someone is wasting their time reading it then I hope it is enjoyable.

Question for the Day: If you kick a post-op trans-gendered male person in the groin does it still hurt like a mother fuc.....