Logicgui.com

I don’t smoke. I don’t drink. I don’t gamble.

But I am extremely addicted to my “kids,” all 27 of them. They take up most of my time and a lot of my paycheck. I just got back into this hobby a few months ago. It’s a heck of an addiction.

I’ve always wanted to keep Discus with cichlids. Now I can with this Red Severum, pet name “Scotch.”

This Cyphotilapia frontosa Burundi is the ultimate king of the tank. I adopted him from big bro. It’s quite a sight watching the 7-inch predator go up for food.

I’ve always wanted a blue fish. The Sciaenochromis fryeri species is as blue as they come.

Sunshine peacocks are the reason I got into peacocks and haps. I love the contrast of yellow and blue.

“Rainbow,” Protomelas taeniolatus, still has a lot of coloring up to do.

This Copadichromis azureus is the most expensive fish in my tank. I fell in love with him at first sight. Anyone messes with him gets to go in the prison tank.

She’s just a common red zebra but extremely mild for her species.

…for good this time.

My life has been so uneventful in the past few months that even I wasn’t interested in it. Not that it’s any better now. I just miss writing.

So I’m back.

I’ll get a few posts up as soon as I recover from this 12-hour-a-day, 5-day work stretch.

With all the unnecessary stress from work, I’ve finally decided to utilize the apartment gym to pump some iron. After all, I’m paying pretty good money for it.

So I went to the office and asked for the key card. The lady responded, “That will be $10.”

What the!

$10 for a freaking key card? I was stupefied.

I thought the lady was joking. So I asked again.

Again she responded, “$10, check or money order only.”

Nothing in this world seems right any more.

You can bet your ass in 6 months I’ll be looking like the young Arnold Schwarzenegger. I’m gonna squeeze every drop out of that $10.

I’m really starting to lose patience with my employer.

A fucked up study has just been released, and apparently only 3% of our customers know we have a pharmacy.

So instead of spending money on advertisement, dumb-ass Corporate Heads are making us walk around the entire store every hour and solicit customers to fill prescription with us. They want us to get at least 20 new patients a week.

Who the fuck wants to think about prescriptions when they shop?

I didn’t go to pharmacy school to pass out flyers. I guess working a 12-hour shift, giving flu shots, ringing up customers, and solving insurance rejections is not enough.

If you ask me, I am way underpaid. I should be getting a check for being a manager, a pharmacist, a salesman, a nurse, and a cashier.

I’ve had the worst of luck with my stupid car. It’s been plagued with multiple, albeit minor mechanical problems from day 1.

A few months ago, someone threw a Yoo-hoo bottle at the window, leaving a chipped mark on the driver’s side.

A few weeks ago, a Volkswagen Beetle passed by and splashed a rock on the windshield. Yep, a tiny little Volkswagen Beetle.

Today, I got to my car and saw this lovely little note.

Are you freaking serious? Someone backed into my car?

So I got out, and my teary eyes were submerged in this.

That’s my very first car.

That’s my brand new, very first car.

That’s my brand new, very first car that I bought with my own money.

That’s my brand new, very first car that I bought with my own money from dealing with stupid insurance rejections, stupid Medicaid patients, stupid computer system, stupid co-workers, and stupid manager.

My brand new car will never be the same. Like Tiger Woods’ wife, I felt betrayed, cheated, violated.

Damn you Karen.

But as the saying goes, if life gives you a lemon car, make lemonade.

So I’m looking at the bright side. At least I know now that there are still honorable people in this world. Karen was honest enough to not only leave her name, phone number, and apartment number but also call the police and report the accident.

I’m not at all mad at Karen. I’m just mad that now I have to deal with insurance and try to find a good place to fix my car. What a Christmas this is going to be.

I have 2 brothers. Each of them has a flat screen HDTV, a kid, and 2 houses.

Two freaking houses.

I, on the other hand, am living in an apartment, eating instant noodles, and watching rabbit ears.

Rabbit freaking ears.

The only thing worst than my rabbit ears would be a fuzzy set of black-and-white rabbit ears.

So, as a way to stick it to the man, I am saving up money for one of these babies.

It’s a 24-karet gold plated, antique phone. I saw it at a luxury hotel last weekend. It costs roughly $10,000.

I’ll have the pleasure to call it mine in about 40 years. But it’s worth it.

Unlike my brothers’ kid, it won’t wake up at night asking for milk.

Unlike my brothers’ TV, it won’t ring up a huge energy bill.

Unlike my brothers’ houses, it won’t require a monthly mortgage.

So take that you cute-kid raising, hi-def watching, multi-house owning brothers. You may have a life, but I’ll have a gold plated phone.

I despise that lemon of a car I bought.

First the lights blinked mysteriously at night. Then, the AC wasn’t cool enough on the driver’s side. Now the steering wheel is clicking every time I turn.

Not a single day went by that I didn’t find myself telling that car off.

Apparently, it had enough of my verbal abuse. This morning, I pressed the wrong button and it told me exactly what it thinks of me.

Some nerve that car has.

I spent my birthday at work. By the time I got home from work, there was only 9 minutes left of my birthday. So I spent that 9 minutes typing this list of what I want wanted for my birthday.

1. PS3 with “Call of Duty 4.” I’m getting tired of playing Madden ‘07 on my old PS2.

2. 52″ HDTV with Dish Network. I’ve been watching little blurry dots with helmets running around the football field on my 19 inch CRT.

3. Core 2 Quad desktop with a kick ass graphic card. I do more TV watching on the computer than on the TV.

4. A new car. I’m beginning to think I’ve bought a lemon. That piece of crap is giving me more problems than a narcotic-seeking pot head trying to get early refills.

5. A house. I’m at that stage in life where settling down is starting to sound pretty damn good. I want a house where I can take pride in maintaining, a place where I can set up my 300 gallon fish tank, and a computer room twice the size of the master bedroom.

That’s a pretty modest wish list in my account.

I’ve been craving “banh xeo” a lot lately. Last week in Houston, I drove 30 minutes to Bel Air, waited another 10 minutes at Kim Son’s Buffet, and got my table stolen by some jackass family, only to get my hands on some banh xeo.

Today, the craving returns. So I ask the little missy to “xeo” me up some of that delicious treat.

I’ll sure miss this when I stuff my face with salty, greasy Outback entrees tomorrow night at the hotel.

After a long day at work, I returned to my hotel for a nice cold shower. I stepped into the bathtub and saw this.

Maybe I’m slow, but how the heck do I decipher hot from cold with this knob?

I started reasoning logically. The hotter something is, the more intense the color becomes. So the darker color must be hot.

A cold shower was in order, so I turned the knob towards the lighter area. Three seconds later, I got burned.

Maybe I photoshopped the image a little for dramatic effect. But the point is, I got burned.

Was there a blue color shortage when the stupid knob was made? What was so wrong with the old red “H” and blue “C” that warrant changing?

If color is an issue, why not try spelling the whole darn thing out?

Stupid Hampton Inn and your stupid shower knob, you’ll be hearing from my lawyer soon.