You Call Yourself An Intellectual?

Don't!

Don't do it! That's a loaded term. People can't stand intellectuals! Call yourself something else.

I kind of gravitate towards "smarty-pants."

So! Getting a Little More Organized, Are We?

You bet we are!

Hi.

In an effort to add a bit more regular value to the experience, We Here At Consider Your Ass Kicked! are following up on our own bold lead, with day-based themed themes which will express themselves via the topics of at least one "themed" post on that given day of the week.

This idea was kicked off a long time ago with my good ol' Sunday God Theology Post routine. That's fallen on and off the wayside by and by, but it's come back strong as of the past week, or was it two, ago. So look for that to continue strong!

But it isn't only God who could benefit from a little day-based theme focus from yours truly. Be on the lookout for new or recent additions to the theme-by-day roster, as we fill out the whole week on a day-by-day plan! Here's where we stand so far:

• Monday: Work-Related (featuring various work-related posts, which could include Workplace Erotic Fiction)
• Tuesday: Blog-Related (featuring my own expert blogging tips, tricks, advice and pleas for assistance!)
• Wednesday: It's a Puzzle-Riddle-Contest-Game-Fun Day! (featuring my hit Name That Tune lyrics paraphrase puzzler, or other fun riddling business!)
• Thursday:
• Friday: 
• Saturday:
• Sunday: A focus on the theological. This week's sermon: "What can God do for you!"

No, I'm kidding about "this week's sermon." I have no idea what Sunday's God post holds in store....YET!

Anyway, I'm coming out and making a big deal announcing all this because I doubt anybody'd notice otherwise. Cheers!

Work is bullshit.

Work is bullshit. They try to get you to think like it's just, you show up in the morning, you stay there for a while, occupying your time with the various tasks, and then at the end of the day you leave and at some point you get paid for it. But that's not really what's going on - that's just the facade of a deeper deception!

In reality, they

Well, okay, to some extent that is what's going on, but it's still bullshit.

More "About How To Blog" - From Me! Who Knows!

The trick on how to blog is this: go around, then see how other people blog. Do you get it? Are you getting it? If not, try commenting for a while. You'll get the hang of that pretty soon, pretty easy. So then, you cross-breed the two! Start with the commenting. Then, use that for ideas! You might be saying something hilarious on somebody else's comment queue. Well, screw their comment queue! Take that hilarious observation and blog that shit up!

That's one way.

You can leave the hilarious idea on their comments also. You don't have to worry about that - it's still your words right? Nobody reads their blog. Worry about yours, not theirs - nobody's going to call you on it, even if you post the same exact thing in like, ten places. Nobody's that obsessed - like they'd notice!

Another way is, go into your old e-mails and stuff, any amusing digressions or tangents you have? That might be expanded into full-blown posts? Copy-paste those suckers. Aw, yeah. That'll turn into a full-blown post someday! Just, you know, blow on it. From time to time. And watch for when it gets to be full-blown! Because you do not want to end up with an overblown blog post. Take it from one who's been there. Who's been there all the time.

How else to blog. Let's see. Ooh, another good one is, write some posts giving people tips on how to blog! That's easy, and people will listen! This way, you get to help people, which is in itself a sort of reward. You should be able to squeeze another five posts out of that easy.

And that's about how to blog. Until next time!

You know what it means to me babe? In the course of our history,

hey? It all makes sense to me, somehow.


There are times that come only once in your life.

OW!! That's Just Mean!!

Suddenly it was like somebody had stabbed me in the eardrum with an ice-pick. The pain and the sudden, one-sided silence was the loudest thing ever. My head, rigid on a stiffened, spasming neck, spun its wild eyes around - looking out for someone, anyone! - from the top of my reeling body, until my knees wobbled out sideways and I came down sitting hard, a shock shot through my spine from assbone to skull.

My hand flew up - !??! - disbelievingly, gingerly my fingers grasping the wood handle. The handle that was now attached to the right side of my head. I barely touched it - my fingers communicated a flash: there were letters carved into it. Initials. It felt stuck firm, but I wasn't about to force it - even the lightest touch I'd just given it sent sick squirms of pain scooting back along never-before-used nerves. I pulled my hand away - slick with streaks of blood. I looked up, into the distance. Eyes filling with tears. Lord, it hurt!

There was no one here. An empty lot with only me in it. More like a field - the nearest buildings were all old, weathered. Like outlying buildings on a farm or ranch, but not anymore. Nobody for miles around here had grown or raised anything in a long while. There was an old brown tractor made out of rust that looked as though it had been set in place like a civil war cannon: a monument to some stupid crap that had happened in olden times.

That handle. It had felt like an ice pick. Someone had stuck an ice pick in my ear! Sudden hurt - emotional hurt. Tears flowing freely, face flushed with hot shame that dribbled as freely in rivulets down the right side of my face, the right side of my neck. My poor ear! Why?! I'll never hear right again! Who the hell does that?! Rage. I jumped to my feet again, fists like clenched lead - trying to look wildly around. Mistake: my whole head engulfed by throbbing, sick-making pain. Teeth clenched, air hissing out in hyperventilated spurts. Neck, burning down one side. The blood felt like skin sliding down, underneath the skin.

Guys, this isn't a true story! Don't worry, it didn't happen. I'm making it up.

I slowed my movements, careful as black swum at the edges of my contracting peripheral vision. Deep breaths - more pain. I looked around me by keeping my head absolutely steady, and turning my whole body with wide-legged, little-old-man steps. It felt like it took forever to make a full circle.

There was no one there at all. The buildings surrounding were like still photographs. I could even see the grain, but it was swimming on the high-gloss surface. I needed to get help. I was going to black out.

Please, God - let there be somebody home. Please God - let it not be the psycho with the ice pick!

With steady, shuffling gait, I made my way forward towards the building I happened to have ended up facing.

Tom Swifties Pt.2

"I know I'm not Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Indonesian, Cambodian or Korean...but I don't know what I am," Tom said disorientedly.

This post is part two of two. There was also a Part One.

Don't Fake The Funk #2: Guess How Many Of These Are Me?

Picking up from previously,

THE ANSWERS ARE..."at least 3. Maybe 4." These 3:

"This is a phrase used more to indicate when one has NOT faked the funk on a nasty dunk. E.g. when someone goes up and makes a nasty dunk on which the funk has clearly not been faked. It would be harder to imagine how exactly one would go about faking the funk on a nasty dunk even if one should want to do so."

"We might further ask, "if the dunk is indeed nasty, how then can the funk have been faked?" It's a paradox, an oxymoron, a contradiction in terms!"

"I agree with the above posters. It's patently impossible to fake the funk on a nasty dunk. A crappy dunk, maybe. But if the dunk is nasty, then the funk is R-E-A-L. Admittedly, 'Don't fake the funk on a crappy dunk' isn't nearly so catchy."

Are definitely me. Now, this one...

"DUDE, I HAVE NEVER TOLD ANYONE ABOUT THIS. BE COOL. I'VE BEEN FAKING THE FUNK ON NASTY DUNKS FOR A SUPER REAL LONG TIME."

...I can't honestly...I can't swear to it...I don't remember literally doing that one. But look at it! That shit is all me. Right? Maybe not. Maybe not. But: maybe.

This guy last guy on line...

"All of you guys sound like dictionaries. It means don't act like you didn't get dunked on when there's a nasty dunk on you. The funk is just the feeling of a nasty dunk."

That was not me. But I have to step up, accept my share of the blame, and take that first sentence as a compliment!

Strictly Business Monday Advice with Mr. Leland Stricklee #1: Office Romance?

I know a lot of people say, "don't shit where you eat," but to me, that's just a stupid saying. Even leaving aside how gross and vulgar the saying is! It's also just stupid, because it can be managed pretty easily by anyone with a decent organizational sense. Wipe only and always with the left hand; sandwich only and always gripped firm in the right. This eliminates the concern, as well as providing a strong example of multitasking. No hill for a climber.

But a far more troubling - potentially troubling - issue, or question, is that of office romance. A lot of folks use the term "workplace romance," but I prefer "office romance" - since I don't want to be judgmental about the amount of "work" getting done in any given "place." It's true that not all job sites are offices, but I think that (for instance) construction sites, or the top of a telephone pole - these aren't the usual venues for the delicate bloom of love to take root and flower. So "office romance" it is - a general term, and an accurate one. Because in this modern business world - today's offices are hot!

What to do? Whether you're male or female, gay or straight, the office setting is rife with red-hot babes of your preferred persuasion, constantly rubbing up on ya. At the copier. Around the water cooler. Up and down the stairwells and in elevators. Cubicles? More like semi-private sex nests! It's no wonder workaholism / sex addiction is so common a dual-diagnosis. Here's a clear case where one thing really does lead to the other.

My advice for you: get some. But before you do, first check out your particular company's P&P's ("policies and procedures" - we'll be using that abbreviation a lot!), and if it looks like you're in the clear as far as not getting fired, then get some. Workplace romance can be one hot, sticky benefit that the company may not advertise! But be aware of the pitfalls: even if you've minded you're P&Q's (I have no idea what this stands for) on the P&P's, there are some pretty steep pitfalls involved that you might want to be wary of. In fact, you're probably already aware of them. They're pretty much the same pitfalls as general romance, only with the added wrinkle that even after it all goes south, you're still going to see the person, every day. He or she will keep turning up, giving you the stinkeye.

But as long as you're cool with that, well shoot! Go get to work! Work it, work it out baby.

Show me what you're working with.

I Want My Own Superbowl Ad

Only a million bucks for a 30-second spot? Sweet! If I win like, 50 mil in the lottery, I will spring for one of those. Definitely!

I'd just be on screen, in a richly-upholstered red leather armchair, maybe in front of some eye-blazing custom-made CGI effects (gotta do it up right, right? Superbowl commercial!) and I'd be like,

Me: "Hi, my name's Joe [ Xxxxxxxx ]. I have no product or service to sell you. That's why you can trust me."

[ camera-angle switch, with slight but meaningful pause as I turn to look into the new camera ]

Me: "A lot of people told me I could not follow my dreams, but I proved them wrong. I kept on the path that I had planned hard for, for success. I kept on buying those tickets, week in, week out, and my hard work and dedication paid off: I won fifty million dollars in the California Mega-State Big Ball Lottery. So that's why I'm here to tell you: never let anyone tell you not to follow your dream. Dream Big. Win Big. The California Mega-State Big Ball Lottery."

I may have to say all that really fast. I'm not springing for a second thirty seconds! Those lottery punks can fund their own dang ad, at that point.

Trying to Get Back to Doing the Every-Sunday Theology God Posts

Well, what if God doesn't play fair though? What if God created the entire universe in 1952, complete with all those then living - all created in an instant, with full and convincing memories! Complete with those then dead - all the way back to the dinosaurs, created in an instant, sitting in the ground with the exactly accurate carbon-14 decay signature! Complete with the artifacts and remnants of all the histories that never actually happened, but absolutely 100% identical to what they would look like if they had!

It's a monstrous idea, but for an omnipotent being it'd be trivially easy to pull it off. That's the problem with omnipotence - it's not even slightly fair! Such easy and infinite wool, to pull over our poor little finite eyes. For an omnipotent being it would be a SNAP!

All we can see is what we're living in the middle of. You don't have to concede the existence of God, but to argue as if you're entertaining the notion, and then say "God couldn't do this" or "God couldn't do that" - because of the evidence! - that's silly! All of that evidence was manufactured to exact specification. We just need to decide what we want to do about it.

The universe was a fake. A conspiracy of One, engineered by a single yet infinite mastermind! That devious, devious fellow.

It's gone far enough. We have to stop Him.

Darling, The World Doesn't Deserve You

It's true. The world doesn't deserve you. Doesn't deserve all the wonder of what you have to offer. You know it. The world - if it roused itself to care - would probably even admit it.

Give it all, anyway.

Give your all. It takes more out of you to let it go to waste, then it ever does to give your all. Give your all, all day long - and the next day you'll wake up to find your all has grown.

For if you only give of that miniscule portion of yourself that you think the world deserves, or that others deserve, then day by day you will shrink and dwindle until one day you wake up to find...the world deserves more than you've got.

A New Justification For Returning To Space? Or Just The Same Old One.

So I was sitting in the bar of a local cafe, enjoying that burger they do so well, and some people were talking about space - whether or not we should invade Mars or whatever. Basically, whether we should be spending resources on manned space missions. So one guy there sums it up with:

"Basically, the moon is our bitch. We need to make Mars our bitch, too."

Now, under other circumstances, my ideal comeback to that statement would be to look the dude in the eye and say, "That's all well and good, pal, but we better stop there. Ain't no way we'll ever make Jupiter our bitch."

But for various logistical reasons, I wasn't really able to offer this as a comeback.

as good as inevitable

you put
a finger to your bitten lip
and giggle an apology

for making nature take its course
you've many subtle strategies

that lead down winding ways, all smooth
and slick, with careful slips and steps

to follow as you lead on down

you worked it out

this way is best

Quote of the Day: Hungry, Busy, and Indecisive

"Man, I'm hungrier than a bear breakfast seminar on hibernation wake-up day."

- Me

Wait, I'm not sure that works. It sounds like the seminar is hungry. Whereas, in fact it would be all the attendees, who were hungry. A seminar can't feel hunger, per se. Plus, "seminar"? Are they learning bear-related things? "Conference" doesn't have the same ring to it, though.

Ok, how about:

"Man, I'm busier than a bear breakfast buffet on hibernation wake-up day!"

- Me

Yeah!! Much better.

Except I'm hungry. Not busy! Well, I'm busy, too, but not that busy. No where near that busy! That would be one damn busy buffet, you would have to imagine.

Also, "bear breakfast buffet" could be problematic. You get the sense it's probably a place for bears to go eat a buffet breakfast, but you also get the sense that it could be a place not for bears, but for regular people, to go eat a buffet breakfast that consists of bears. Which is ludicrous on the face of it! Regular people simply do not eat bear.

But you don't like the tinge of syntactic confusion, either. Ah, hell:

"Man, I'm nervouser than the wait-staff at the bear hibernation wake-up day breakfast buffet!"

- Me

Shit, that's no good at all. I'm not even slightly nervous.

I'm starved, is what I am. Man, am I hungry. I'm as hungry as ten bears.

a theology of do re mi

Oddly enough, I'm a money atheist. I don't believe it exists! I think it's just a fictitious, all-powerful concept invented by humans, to comfort themselves in their basically empty existences.

Or perhaps I'm a money agnostic, since I see no evidence of money in my life.

DON'T BE A JERK!

I mean yeah, I guess you can be a jerk if you want to. I'm just saying: I would advise you not to be.

I Don't Even Remember Which Rocky Movie This Is From!

But it's Survivor, right? So it's pretty safe to say, there's some red-leather-padded cinematic fisticuffs involved.

Does That Make Me An Alcoholic?

I drink three beers a day. Does that make me an alcoholic?

What about two beers? Suppose I only drink two beers a day? Am I an alcoholic then? Or is that the "healthy recommended dose"? What if I only drink one beer? Can I please not be considered an alcoholic in that instance? If I only drink one beer a day?

SCREW YOU!!! To heck with your judgmentalistic -nesses and -isms! I am going to right now, go drink FIVE BEERS, right now this very instant! Pound 'em! One right after the other! Then we'll see who's an alcoholic!!

Aw, I'm just kidding. I would never do that. Waste good beers like that? Waste good beers, in a binge-pound. What's the point at that point? Who's appreciating that?

Actually I'm out of beers. I need to get more at some point.

Well, that's not entirely true. I'm not "out" - I've got the last one. I've got the last one, right here. Ice-cold and open. Still a little steam rising from that sacred raised circle of bottle-glass, right at the top!

I'm drinking it now.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

It's actually a Buckler, but you know what? Them Bucklers is good! My sister turned me on to those.

She knows her beers!

Laying It All Out

Look, I know a lot of the time I may be in the midst of a temporary crisis of self-confidence, but I don't want there to be any misunderstanding on this point: I think I'm an awesome person.

I'm not ashamed of that. And I'm not the slightest bit uncomfortable about saying it. A bit incredulous, maybe. I can't believe how awesome I am!

But I am, though. I'm that awesome. I'm awesome and then some.

Be clear: It's not that I think I'm any better than other people. I don't. I'm not. I am constantly SHOCKED at how awesome so many other people are, and yet they don't even seem to notice it, they don't ever seem to acknowledge it. So I live my whole life in an effort to rub my awesomeness right in peoples' FACE! This is a necessary corrective measure. This is what will force the reevaluation. The first thing will be: they will have to stand back and realize just how awesome I am - no getting around that. But then, as I keep hot doggin' it right down the line, show-boatin' it, giving them a little something more that they wouldn't expect and are quite frankly, getting a little sick of, well at some point that gets them to rethink the juxtaposition there, between the observed and the observer, vis-a-vis awesomeness, so as to finally conclude (in a roundabout way, via a slow-dawning epiphany of indignation), "Hey! What the hell. This guy's no better than I am!"

At which point I drop the guard, give 'em a grin and a welcoming wink. As if to say That's right: no better than you! And guess what that says about you! Then they realize they've been tricked a bit, but it's too late because they're staring it in the face. They can't deny the truth about themselves anymore. Welcome to awesome.

I've been trying to tell you all along, you were already here!

Things This Changing World Has Left Behind, That I Took For Granted Before But I Now Kind Of Pine For

• pay phones

You know what, I expect I'll be doing this post over again, later. There's got to be more than that! What's so great about pay phones?

Name That Tune #1!

"I vigorously jiggle my mammary glands / which attracts the attention of nearby young males / they favorably compare my glands to yours / For a fee, I would be willing to instruct you in mammary-gland jiggling"

A Focus On Blogging: The Five "F"s of Blogging

Followers. Followers is a big one. A lot of people stress on that aspect, and it's easy to see why! So yeah, Followers. Probably that doesn't deserve to be the top, first one though! You don't necessarily want to put that first, as if it's your tippest-top priority. Because a lot of the time, you want to come off like "well, my voice as an artist..." - right? I'll leave it tops for now, and then after I think up one to push ahead of it, I'll just slide the text around.

Let's see. Functionality? Functionality is important. People put all kinds of weedjees or wedgies in their - wait, is it widgies? Ouijas? Anyway. Functionality adds bling, and in many cases, embedded malware as well. Depending on your source for wadgels. Be careful on that! Watch it! Malware, man...they call it "malware" because in one of your fancier languages, "mal" means "bad." Let that be a tipoff for you.

Friendliness! Friendliness, sure! That covers a lot of things. In fact, that might be important enough to slide it into the top spot, ahead of followers (which I put first only because I thought of it first). Yeah. I'm going to do it. Actually, no wait - let me get the other 2 "F"s down first. No sense jumping the gun before the facts are in. But really, "Friendliness"? That covers so much. It's going to be hard to beat out that one, once it comes to juking and rejiggering it all up for the top spot!

Facts. Sure! Lots of blogs have a focus on Facts. People appreciate them, people like to have facts brought to their attention that they'd never previously considered, even made-up ones. People sometimes seem to go in for the made-up ones in an even bigger way! They eat it up! Facts.

Which brings us to what. Let me go back and re-read a bit. Okay, one thing that keeps coming up again and again, or that comes up at least twice and starts with an "f", is Focus. It's hard to think of anything more important than Focus, folks. What is your blog's Focus? See?? That's a pretty important question! Maybe more important than friendliness, maybe a little less, you know what - I'm just going to let the "F"s fall where they fell, on this one. It doesn't have to be looked at as a tiered, ranked list by any means. Go through and give each and every one of these "F"s the thought it deserves. Let each be only as important as it really is - to you.

The five "F"s of blogging. Ignore them at your peril, seriously.

Arizona's State Quarter! A Missed Opportunity To Make A Bold Statement.

They messed up. Arizona messed up on the state quarter pick! In deference to their maverick counterconformist stance, they should have picked the plain, ordinary bald eagle "tails" for theirs. It would have been a sweet f.u. to the whole federalist endeavor, wherein the big central powers condescend to extend a little magnanimously meaningless coinage control back to the individual States - as if it mattered one tinker's tush what's on your tails! Naw, man. Look at the heads. That shows you the true face of power: WASHINGTON.

So yeah, they should either have gone with the standard bald eagle obverse as their official "Arizona tails," or else gone extra-bold and put Dr. MLK Jr.'s face on there. A sly, winking allusion to their previous clashes with los federalis. I'm not saying they should actually have him winking on there. That might be taking a winking allusion too far.

Seriously, though, Arizona: whatever I might say about whatever other crap you've pulled over the years, I give my mad respect to you on your anti-­daylight-­savings stance. I only wish the rest of the States had the sheer, unmitigated gall to follow your lead. For half the year, only one State out of fifty really shows that they know what time it is.

Arrgh!! Brand Reliable Skin & Eye Irritant

My few forays into trying to give a hand in the Product Development Dep't have not been well-received.

Thought of the Day: Bred by Familiarity

A body of work has no intrinsic worth. It's how sick of it we are that matters.

Can Anybody Help Me Finish This Sentence...?

"Look, if I were a cigar-chomping autocrat with one eye on the bottom line and the other on the least common denominator, I'd..."

I was trying to come up with a sentence the other day, and that's what came out. But it's unfinished. It wasn't like there was any situation that would call for a sentence to start that way. I was just trying to come up with a good sentence. There was really nothing apropos of it. But then when I got that far - I thought it was one hell of a start for a sentence! And it'd be a shame to leave it hanging, like I've done so far.

So I'm coming to you guys. Any suggestions?

Check Me On Tone #1: "Dear Exes, Via Bcc"

Welcome to a new soon-to-be-recurring feature on the blog, because Lord knows I need it enough. The Check Me On Tone series invites you to read a draft of something I'm working on - maybe a post, maybe a letter to someone, maybe a confidential policy from work, or just anything, really - and Check Me On Tone. It's your opportunity to provide me valuable feedback before-the-fact, so that I can take those issues in mind, and spit out something that's maybe just that little bit better.

Your input doesn't have to be anything needlessly detailed, or insightful. Maybe just some small observation such as "Dude. What the fuck." Or, "Perfect! You nailed it." Or, "The force and beauty of your sincerity here has ripped my heart clean out, in words so true that I wished and at first believed that they might have been written to me and for me alone." Or if such forthright observation isn't your style, you can give still valuable feedback via pointed questions, such as: "Dude. What the fuck?"

In the first installment of Check Me On Tone, I invite you to read over this missive I'm working up to send out, via blind cc, to a number of my ex-girlfriends. Striking the right tone on this one is going to be critical. I won't be sending it out for a couple months, so we have time to fine tune:

Check Me On Tone #1: "Dear Exes, Via Bcc"

If you are receiving this e-mail via blind cc, it is because you are one of my ex-girlfriends, and there are some things that I want to say to you that it is important I say today.

First, I want you to know I value the time we had together. The things I learned in my time with you made me a better person. I can't get any deeper into specifics without running into areas that don't apply to each and all of you receiving this, so I'll leave it at that.

Second, the way it ended was bullshit. Maybe that was my fault, maybe it was yours. Circumstances vary. But I want you to know that the things that you or I might have said at the very end - the hard things, the permanent things - for my part at least, I am willing to unconditionally revoke or forgive (as applicable) all those things that were said. I have become a bigger person since then in several respects, and if you were willing to overlook my newfound rotundity, I'd certainly be willing to overlook whatever bad blood was spilled in the heat of the aftermath. What I'm saying is: I'd be willing to give it another try. I don't mean literally now, for each of you - that's not how I roll. I'm a one-woman man. Besides, some of you receiving this are married, others in exclusive, committed relationships. For that matter, so am I! I'm just talking hypothetically, here. The bad part, for me, is no longer there. That's all I'm saying.

Third, I am over you. It is because I am well and truly over you that I want to reach out like this, redress some of the hurt, dress some of the wounds, and wipe off a clean slate. You need not worry that I'm pining over you, or making a play to win you back. In fact, I'd ask those of you who know who each other are, please do not forward this e-mail around amongst yourselves! Because one of you didn't receive it. And frankly, there are reasons for that - reasons I hope you'd respect.

With fond and enduring admiration,

Your ex-boyfriend,

Joe

P.S. Please note the send date. APRIL FOOL, SUCKAS!!!!!!!

So, that's what I've got so far. As I said, we've got a good two months leeway on this one. I'm a little worried about the last line - the postscript. Is that insulting, as if they couldn't see for themselves what day it was sent, and figure it out for themselves? These sorts of things are always more rewarding if it takes you a second, and THEN you're like, "awwwwww, I get it! April Fool. You can't fool me that easy." To make it too obvious like that, jump in with the reveal before they have the chance to nail it on their own, it's like declaring you can or did fool them. When in reality, probably they would have gotten it, had you not blown your own whistle so hard. I'm worried it borders on "Are you insulting my intelligence or what?" territory.

But you tell me! Please, by all means: Check Me On Tone.