Archive for category Ordained

BAGWAN IS SICK & TIRED OF REPACKAGING…….unwashed gets lesson in phrasing

Take a GOOD look!!

Take a GOOD look!!

Good Morning Bibliophobes,

Bagwan’s genuine concern for we the unwashed has no boundaries.  Even rising from his sick-bed, he cares that you and I come off well informed and articulate!  We’re overjoyed and it’s with great humility I present Bagwan’s further truth & light–please enjoy:


I was reading an old novel the other day and came across the word “rapscallion.” I liked the sound of it but I don’t remember ever hearing it used before. Well I looked it up and I’ll be darned if it isn’t a great moniker for Zuki.

That got me to thinking about words and phrases that I have heard used in my lifetime that I don’t hear anymore. “Groovy” and “far out” come to mind, although I hope I never said either one. I haven’t heard anyone called a “prig” recently but in my circles you are much more likely to run into a prick rather than a prig.

Also we have words that have taken on new meanings. The expression “all fagged out” used to mean you were tired. I suppose it could still mean you are tired but now it would raise the question of how you got tired. In that same vein when exactly did “gay” come to mean what it does today.

I’ll tell you one of my favorite greetings which seems to have fallen out of favor is, “How’s it hanging?” While used mostly by men, Cush told me he came across an interesting group of women in Wyoming who used that expression to greet each other – that conjures up some scary images. On the flip side saying good-bye with “See you in the funny papers” has never made any sense to me.

More annoying than the words we don’t use anymore are the words and phrases we still use that I wish we didn’t. I have led a long and arduous campaign against the use of “just saying.” What the hell does that mean anyway? Of course you are “just saying,” that’s what we are doing here – having a conversation, we are all just saying. The reason you feel the need to precede your comments with “just saying” is because you just said the same thing before and no one cared.

One that has started in recent times is the overuse and abuse of the word “actually.” It’s a perfectly acceptable word which is now being used as a filler word to claim knowledgeable authority. During Committee meetings I am sometimes forced to say “actually” to let them know that it is time to listen up because I am about to set the record straight. Actually what using “actually’ does is announce one’s opinion of one’s own opinion.

The use of “hopefully” has some elite and effete critics but I am okay with it as a substitute for “I hope.” The one that drives me nuts is “functionality.” What does functionality add to the meaning of “function”—other than showing that you are some techno-nerd?

Finally we get to the most annoying of all; the one that makes you long for the sound of fingernails scraping on a blackboard. The one that is gaining traction amongst the rabble of Blondie’s while driving reasonable people to the solitude of drinking alone. I am talking about the incessant and loud favorite of our very own JJ. I am talking about:



 "she sees what's wrong with you and not her."

“she sees what’s wrong with you and not her.”

Good Morning Children of the Moon,

Regarding astrology: An obstetrician or a maternity nurse who weighs between 100 and 200 pounds actually exerts a greater gravitational force on a baby at the time of its birth than do any of the distant planets that are said to influence a person’s personality and destiny. Why aren’t these bulky, proximate objects factored into the astrological charts that are so carefully laid out? – George Carlin

Have we collectively become a population of idiots and morons?  Movie stars and celebrities are looked to for wisdom and guidance as if somehow they had answers to life’s rich pageant.  When you’ve got more money than most of can even comprehend it’s easy to be wise, even eccentric.  Others are just plain lost, destined to wander their entire lives in a quest for truth and light.

It seems there’s a DNA segment that causes us humans to ponder and search for personal meaning in our lives. I’m not saying I don’t share this curiosity, but there’s too much zealotry and bombast and not enough common sense when it comes to sharing one’s point of view.

I had just finished dinner with my daughter and grandson and wanted a nightcap, so instead of Blondie’s I wound up at the newly opened “Bout Time” and no doubt over-indulged.  However given the nearly straight shot to my place, I stayed longer than I should have.  I was curious because the bar has electronic trivia reminiscent of our glory days at our beloved Dewey’s… I began to play.

I met Brenda a matronly but affable woman seated next to me also playing trivia.  She seemed to enjoy my particular brand of shtick and immediately hit it off.  After the initial small talk and well into the night, Brenda felt compelled to point out her astrological chart indicated she’d meet a person with great potential for love.  Evidently she perceived me to be that person.

She began to drone on and on about how she needed to do a “chart” on me to further establish our destiny.  This seemed to go on for another hour until I was completely annoyed.

I stopped her abruptly and had to remind her of the origins of this quasi-mystic art. I emphatically explained the “Chaldaeans and the Assyrians were the first to discard their heavenly based gods in favor of a non-deistic system of divination founded upon astronomy and numerology.”  How convenient!

She looked as though I’d just kicked her dog and folded her arms clearly indicating I wouldn’t be getting into her lockbox anytime soon. With nothing further to lose, I also pointed out that the same bloodthirsty assholes flying into our buildings, beheading innocents, and killing indiscriminately are descendants of these wise originators of interplanetary dogma, and asked her “Doesn’t that say something about ‘’astrology?”

Speechless with mouth agape, Brenda got up and threw the remainder of her drink into my face! Other than the embarrassment, I was grateful she was drinking Vodka-Tonic.  I cleaned my glasses, blotted myself up the best I could, and walked out the door to begin the straight shot home.

Feeling just a bit smug I walked to my car to discover someone had key’d my car!  So much for alignment, I hope Brenda burns in Cosmic Hell for this. Jeez.


BAGWAN FINDS TONTINE IN SOCK DRAWER……curmudgeon corner confused

Bagwan's Format

Bagwan’s Format

Good Morning Antediluvian Hordes,

The Bagwan has again spoken.  He is actually paid for his observations so you’d be well served to finish this mythomane.  The fact he found copious notes in his sock drawer is good enough for me, so please pay attention:

I have a habit of using cocktail napkins to record history. History that is, as it occurs in places which have cocktail napkins. The scribbling and hieroglyphics on these napkins usually are a reminder of a brilliant idea or a bet or sometimes my numbers for an upcoming football pool.   Occasionally I will find a blank napkin in my files which would indicate some confusion on my part. Perhaps I blew my nose on the one with the bet and inadvertently put the blank in my pocket — which is probably better than the opposite.

Most of these bets are about very trivial matters. Like JJ betting me that Mansfield Ave. does not run through from Sheridan Blvd to Pierce, but it does. Or Zuki betting me that Seattle gets more annual rainfall than New York City — not true. I would brag about how often I am right, but I deserve no credit. I simply sit there listening to their absurd claims until I hear one I know for a fact is wrong. You would think they would catch on, but so far so good.

I was rearranging the napkin file the other night when I made an interesting discovery. It seems that many years ago one Saturday afternoon while sitting at Curmudgeon Corner in Deweys we formed a tontine and recorded the terms on a cocktail napkin. Finding this “document” seemed especially relevant since we have just lost two more members in the past month.

Let me back up for a minute in case some of you are not familiar with how a tontine works. There are many varieties but the basic idea is that a group of people pool assets and then at some point start receiving an annuity which increases as subscribers die until the last survivor receives the whole amount.

Now the key word in that last paragraph was “assets.” In a normal tontine “assets” would be cash or something that could be readily turned into cash like stocks, bonds or real estate. For those of you who have followed the history of Curmudgeon Corner you can well imagine that assets in this case have a completely different meaning.

The napkin which formed the tontine referred to an Addendum where the various assets were to be listed. Fortunately I was able to find 3 additional napkins and with the help of an Egyptian have been able to decipher some of the contributions.

  • Griz is contributing his share of the Robin Williams estate.
  • Madcow is sharing the (net) proceeds from a lawn sale he held this past summer.
  • Dv Ant is contributing a scatological slide collection he has piled up over the years.
  • Cush says he will give that soiled swatch from the underwear Jimmy Hoffa was wearing on the day he disappeared.
  • JJ is putting in his one-third share of the Vietnamese massage parlor on Federal.
  • Given his generous nature it is not surprising that Zuki has agreed to make multiple contributions: his ceramic bricks, his losing Lotto tickets, his Hawaiian shirt collection, his tab down at the IRS and best of all, his sunny disposition.

Makes you wonder if the last man standing is really the winner.


BEST AND BRIGHTEST TO DONATE SPERM……zuki is double-crossed

All Victims of Circumstance

All Victims of Circumstance

Good Morning  Replicates,

With recent advances in the science of cloning, I wonder if the recluses at Vatican City have considered duplicating the current Pope.  I’m not trying to be disrespectful here but it seems to me it’s a good way to repeat what’s working as opposed to chancing appointing another Nazi to the papacy.  I know there’s been a number of movies and books that offer scenarios depicting evil as a result of cloning gone bad, but I think we need to take a serious look at this before we dismiss the idea.

Think of it, a genetically engineered pool of DNA from which the brightest and noblest of mankind is nurtured and raised to become leaders, thinkers, inventors, and all are genetically predisposed to being funny.  The losers and assholes are kept to do the bidding of the bright and noble.  Wow…’s worth pondering anyway.  Does this sound like Germany in 1938? That’s not what I’m getting at damn it!

I answered an ad recruiting donors of Sperm for just this reason.  After all who am I to deny the world another Marzuki?

After a brutal screening process I was given a towel primarily for hygiene as far as I could tell.  I was directed to a line at the other end of the laboratory.  I was one of about 30 people in line, and in a stereo-typical assessment of those standing there I sensed something was very wrong.  I finally got close enough to the entry and immediately read the sign. It felt like a knee to the groin. The sign read, ‘victims of circumstance’ please be ready to undress.

What does that mean?  Was I not chosen for the brightest and noblest of humanity?  ME?  That’s not conceivable!  As I walked in I was led to a dressing room and asked to drop trou….the nurse handed me a cup and a number of porno magazines.  I immediately noticed a goodly number of its pages were stuck together furthering my humiliation.

I don’t get my $100 if I can’t deliver, so I picked up a Hustler and began to peruse its contents. I found a particularly nasty section called “Tanya; Vacuity and Talent Too”. Surprisingly I was able to thumb through the six page layout without the crackling of ‘ick’ sucking the ink off the page. Evidently one of Tanya’s talents involves imitating a Hoover. I let myself go with the vision and expanded on it a bit. Tanya’s hands and lips are playing a symphony Tchaikovsky couldn’t possibly appreciate, and I’m lost in the bliss of Tanya’s mystery.

Sealing my cup, I handed it to the nurse who gave me a voucher redeemable at any King Soopers.  $100.  It was convenient  though, I needed to pick up coffee and toilet paper.  Getting paid for donating sperm destined to be a victim of circumstance seems wrong to me. Yet I needed the money.  “Ah fuck it Dude; let’s go bowling….”  So much for noble…jeez.


LIFE’S RICH PAGEANT IS AN S.O.P……..zuki discovers loophole

These make great door stops

These make great door stops

Good Morning Tillers of Cerebral Soil,

Given that I’m rarely on the road these days, my work centers on today’s cubicle oriented society at ‘the office’.  Generally I blend in, do my thing, and rarely does anyone micro-manage me or even notice what I’m doing. However, what I’m facing presently is disturbing in a corporate way of life. Probably not a huge deal to most corporate slaves, but our little company like all ISO (International Organization for Standardization) driven companies work and operate according to self-applied S.O.P. manuals.

What a pain! This thing dictates procedures for every process including how to change a procedure. This Pantheon of policy is housed in four six-inch binders! While informative, I’m sad to say that for the most part it has replaced common sense and is now subject to today’s bloodletting.

I had an epiphany of sorts and discovered a much better way for sales people to qualify for commissions paid only once per month. I know the sales guys very well, and this particular rash is a source of irritation as ‘procedure’ will often times be responsible for missing payment deadlines! Not that I have much experience with commissions of late, but never-the-less my idea would allow sales people to be paid faster, and in most cases the same month the sale occurs instead of in arrears.

When I brought this up to my VP of Sales, he directed me to the S.O.P. manual for the proper procedure to alter or change existing company policies. The  @^**&! Forms would take me a week to fill out! What ever happened to the suggestion box? Having said this though, I’m sure in his own warped sense of things he thinks he’s teaching me a valuable lesson.

Like the two or three of you still reading this cark, I’ve got plenty to do while at work, so this little project took a while.  I can hear you saying, “zuki, why are you slaving over this when you haven’t seen a commission check in years”?  I’m hip. I may be committing professional suicide; then again it may expose this scab as the drain on morale it is.  Hopefully not both!

The effort will make me a hero to the field reps, plus I’ve discovered a loophole. In the 8-page change of procedure form I found that existing commission rates were actually written in pencil.  I’m guessing simply because the commission structure changes every three weeks.  Not only did I change the methodology, I also gave the sales crew a raise!

My little company of 120 employees is guided by and worships the god S.O.P.  They never think about it, they just ‘do it’ because S.O.P. says so.  This includes accounting and payroll, so we should see the results on the next paycheck. I’m sure it’ll be noticed at some point, but didn’t want to wait six months for management approval so I took matters into my own hands.  It’s just a matter of time before they see the VP of Sales signature was forged.

All hell will break loose.

If you’ve read this far, then you must abide by the “code of the road”. This solemn oath was in place long before “what happens here stays here” got hip. I know they’ll suspect me, but there’ll be no smoking gun. I’ll get away with this if we’re all discrete. God Bless You.