Well the news said that because of miscalculations in time, and/or the tilt of the earth, the Zodiac signs are no longer relevant. The months basically have not kept up with the stars. I think the stars are winning. So the whole Zodiac deal has shifted.
Now, my gracious and lovely wife has told me for years how the Zodiac signs are "so right on" the money. Therefore, because of one's Zodiac sign, people simply cannot help themselves for whatever misbehavior they may happen to be into. I was comfortable being a Ram, but now I find that I may be a Bull. I had just grown attached to the Aries sign, but now that things have shifted, I am feeling a bit out of sorts. The Bull sounds dumber than a Ram, no disrespect to all the current Bulls, who may or may not be something else now. I have been told that I have all of the Ram traits, and now I am not sure if I am ready to take on all of the Bull responsibilities, other than I am full of Bull most of the time. (Rimshot)
I am not sure why everything Zodiac is all out of wack, maybe the leap years had not been figured out three thousand years ago. Ancient fail. Above is the best chart for Zodiac calculations that I have found. Dates, stars, names, signs, and elements all in one. Perfect.
So the issue is that, over time, all of the stars are no longer in the month that they were first seen in by the Ancients. This is an epic issue. Do you realize how many tattoos will have to be corrected? Millions. This is exactly the kind of thing that I feared when I have thought about getting a tattoo. My wife, who dove right in, and got a tattoo with every Zodiac sign of every member of our immediate family, is screwed. Now her five Zodiac signs will have to be done over like five old boyfriend's names. Her pretty little butterfly tattoo will look like a catchers mitt. This is all due to the fact that the ancient stargazers did not have a slide rule. Nice job.
To make matters worse "they" have added another sign "Ophiuchus" as the thirteenth sign. Look, no one is going to want their new sign especially if it is the thirteenth one. The Zodiac Committee really did not do their homework on this one. Seriously. And the sign is a dude holding a snake. Sign of Satan is what it is. The Devil's sign. Evil Ophiuchus. Triskaidekaphobia - Fear of the number 13.
Manataka American Indian Council
Because of all of that miscalculating, our current calendar's alignment with the Mayan calendar, which allegedly predicts the end of the world in 2012, is off as well. OK, in plain speak, our calendars and charts are junk. I cannot wait to see the new Farmer's Almanac, as they use the Zodiac signs and such to know when to plant vegetables. Our gardens are going to look like crap this year.
Have you ever really looked at the Mayan calendar? This is one crazy looking timekeeping instrument. Little men stacked on top of one another. I am not so sure we really need to worry so much about ancient timekeeping. They did not just have "a" calendar either; they had like six or more. One for short time, one for long time, one for sacred time, one for plant time, etc..
One problem with this whole Zodiac / Mayan / End of the world / Tattoo Redo thinking is the translating from one calendar to another. Doing so without the creators of the Mayan calendar around to help with the translation is not good. Some say that the problem is the translation of the word "end". The Mayan allegedly referred to this 2012 date as a "transformation" or a "change" rather than an "end" date. We need to go from from the fourth sun to the fifth sun. Got that?
Here is the real 2012/Mayan/Zodiac deal:
1. Quit worrying about what your sign or chart said is going to happen to you today. Just do what you know you should do. Please leave feelings out of this equation.
2. Do not go and change your tattoo today. I was however, thinking of getting crazy looking Mayan man tattooed on my left butt cheek.
3. Go ahead and figure out what you need to stop, start, or change in 2011 for preparation for 2012. I am looking forward to start selling "2012 Survival Kits". I am going to make a killing on you people.
It was amazing to me, that after I wrote about idiots, how many idiot stories came flooding in to the According To GF Home Office. While sitting in my plush leather chair on the 30th floor, I often chuckled to myself as I poured over the fan mail and sipped on my French Roast coffee. Anyway, here are a few more stories. Some are true idiot stories, and some are stories about people acting like idiots.
Number One.
I was invited to go to a visitation at a funeral home for a Senior who frequented a local business where I occasionally volunteer. Visitation was held at a small funeral home, that is housed in what used to be the old high school for the African American children in Douglas County (a historical landmark!). There were very few people there, but it was a privilege to visit with the family and friends.
A coworker let us know that she too was going to the visitation and might see us there. We never saw her, and figured that her plans had just changed. While inquiring the next day why she was not able to attend she, told her story.
She said that when she arrived the place was packed. She walked right up and signed the guest book. After viewing the body, she made a note to herself that it really did not look like the gentleman that she had come to pay respects to. Brushing that off as an oddity, she continued visiting with friends and family, some that she actually knew. She chatted for about a half hour and left.
She did not realize that she had gone to the wrong funeral home, and the wrong visitation.
Go ahead, say it.
Number Two.
Urban Redneck Kayaking shot in "Avatar Mode" by Douglasville GA's finest idiots.
I personally know these idiots and I can vouch for their idiocy. I think hitting the car could have been avoided if the paddles had been properly utilized. Note that "Aw hell naw.", "Aw s*#t, and F@3%*ing, would have been deleted had I known how to edit. This is a good documentary on how idiots talk as well. Consider it an idiot education. Snow and ice in the Deep South brings out all of the idiots.
Number Three.
There is no other pleasure that I will have in my life but to share an idiot story from my beloved high school friend Beth.
She VOLUNTARILY submitted this story via fb:
"eight months pregnant and loading the wood stove - log gets stuck half way out and begins to rapidly burst into flames, I try to push it in to no avail so I pick up a glass jar of pennies that we had sitting near by- thinking only about how heavy it is -I slam it into the log ...needless to say the log didn't budge - glass and pennies go everywhere, as I watch the pennies melting in the fire I realize my brain just simply did not have enough blood to formulate wise decisions...."
Number Four.
A family friend got "put" into a tree by his 6' 9" friend. He fell out of the tree after he asked for an icy cold alcoholic beverage. That is because a family member threw a beverage, that hit him square in the head, and knocked him out cold. Drunk idiots; an excellent segue into the last idiot story.
Number Five.
Summer BBQ's are a great opportunity to spend quality time with family and friends. My daughter was at the house, and we planned a day of rib cooking. I take great pride in my meat cooking skills, and I looked forward to showing off a bit, and showing my daughter the finer skills of BBQ. I got the grill ready, wood chips, good charcoal, cleaned the grates, and rubbed the ribs. I loaded the ribs onto the grill, settled into the lawn chairs, and that is when we both realized it was rather warm. "Hey, do you want a beer?" This was the beginning of a very bad day of BBQing.
Beer has a way of vaporizing time. Beer time warp is a subject that needs to be explored, but at a later date. A half an hour past the time when I imagine the ribs were done, we noticed that we were out of frosty beverages. This had to be remedied. Off we went, escorted to the grocery store by a very loving wife. We shopped for our beverages oblivious to our wardrobes. I sported a sunburnish face with specks of ash, and the famous white T shirt smudged with BBQ sauce, charcoal, and beer stains. My daughter had a bikini top / booty shorts combo, with an ankle wrap that was not secured, flopping along her bare feet. We brought our selections to the register. The cashier and manager asked if we were driving. We pointed to the car outside where the lovely and gracious wife was now waving. Upon returning from the store I carefully calculated that the ribs needed a couple more hours of slow cooking. This just happened to be slightly longer than it took us to finish our beverages. We then prepared for the feast.The loving wife had graciously cooked up the side dishes. These lovely side dishes ended up being the entire meal, as the ribs were black, hard, and uneatable.
We have an idiot dog who savors the delicate flavors of trash cans. He would not even eat the ribs. My daughter sent me to a BBQ cooking class for a Christmas present that year. BBQ tools, books, and other gear are now regular Christmas and birthday gifts for me from my family.
Note to self: Drink beer with the ribs after you cook them; not while you "cook" them.
