I consolidated the stories about Fred.

HILL BLOCKS VIEW IS DEAD.

...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. flipaul@yahoo.com

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Quarrel Facilitators

*flip is currently chronicling his attempts to get rich. Oddly enough, flip's exploits are being recounted alphabetically. (That's A-Z, for the uninitiated.) flip is also referring to himself in the third person. ' Cause flip's just cool like that.

It is a quarrelsome time in human history. Scratch that. I guess all of human history is quarrelsome. It is a time in human history when the quarrelsomeness is available for all to see, almost instantaneously. And then pick apart and post, like, share, repost, troll, blog, tumbl, tweet, and stumble.  (How is that even a real sentence?) What the world really needs is for somebody to step up and offer a solution. I have stepped up. Now I don't pretend to be smart enough to know the correct answer to all the world's problems, but I can offer (for a small fee, of course) the means for a resolution.


   At flip's Quarrel Facilitators we utilize the latest methods of arbitration, and non-violent conflict resolution, with qualified therapists, supervising reverse role play, empathy building sessions, scream therapy, drum circles, and hypno-regres...
   No. Just kidding. In reality, I built a life-size version of the Thunderdome, from the Mad Max movie, in my back yard. Two persons enter, one person leaves. Quarrel over.




flip be illin'

We now interrupt your regularly scheduled A-Z postings with the following breaking news. flip McFliperson has fallen ill. After a short, day long stint in the emergency room and another day rolling about in bed intrepidly whining, flip is making a slow recovery. A-Z posts to resume shortly. Stay tuned for further updates.


Thursday, April 18, 2013

Picasso Home Builders.

*flip is currently chronicling his attempts to get rich. Oddly enough, flip's exploits are being recounted alphabetically. (That's A-Z, for the uninitiated.) flip is also referring to himself in the third person. ' Cause flip's just cool like that.





A house can be the most expensive piece of art that many people will ever buy. That's why so many home builders bear artsy names: Renaissance Builders, DaVinci Fine Custom Homes, Bob Ross's Happy Homes, Van Gogh Deluxe Homes and Kindergarden Mike's Finger Painting Homes (maybe that's not the best example) to name a few. 
   I recently convinced some acquaintances with too much money and a love of art to allow me to build them a home worthy of Picasso, perhaps the greatest artist ever. (Excluding Thomas Kinkaide of course. And whoever first put Elvis on crushed black velvet; that guy is a freaking genius.) They agreed to allow me total freedom and anonymity to create my masterpiece, and in six short years I was finished. With great anticipation I unveiled their new beautiful abode, and gave them a tour.
   UNCULTURED HEATHENS! As much as they claimed to be art lovers, in reality they were just like all other visionless sheep. Instead of heaping accolades on me, they have slapped me with a lawsuit. Here are some of their ridiculous complaints.
1) They object to the front door being seven feet of the ground. I was just pointing out that as much as we pretend, we don't want everybody to have access to our hearts. 
2) They couldn't understand why all the bedrooms are in the basement and filled with water. What is a bedroom other than a womb? A womb is filled with fluid. How can you not get that?
3) They complain that the hanging stairs don't go anywhere. They do. They lead to the ceiling. If that isn't a statement on the human condition, I don't know what is. We are all struggling up life's steps and it is meaningless. 
4) They say that toilets don't go in the kitchen. On the wall. Says who? Convention? Great works of art defy convention. 
5) They object to all the windows in the house hanging from the ceiling and the walls and laying on the floor. If you can't see the symbolic aspects of windows, then you are a soulless swine and I hate you. 
And this was just the first page of complaints. I must rest in the knowledge that great artists are hardly ever recognized in their own time. But in the future I'll totally be infamous. That's good right?!

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Office Mafia.

*flip is currently chronicling his attempts to get rich. Oddly enough, flip's exploits are being recounted alphabetically. (That's A-Z, for the uninitiated.) flip is also referring to himself in the third person. ' Cause flip's just cool like that.

Each office has it's own ecosystem. It's own pecking order. It's often a reflection of society at large. The one thing you don't often see, is the overtly criminal element that all societies have.
   I aim to rectify that. Starting today, all office pools run through me. Anybody tries to cut in on my action, gets shanked with an official sharpened Dilbert® slide ruler. 
   This sure is a nice desk. It would be a shame if your stapler was to disappear, or your Trolls® suddenly decided to take a nap with the goldfishes, or if the goldfishes decided to take a nap with some Wasabi sauce, or if your spreadsheets were to lose a formula. That's right for only $5.99 a week, I'll offer you protection... from me. (Wait. Is that right? That seems a little weird. How can I be sure I won't mess up that desk as soon as my back is turned?)



   Drugs. From now on all drugs run through me. Aspirin, Tums, and Motrin can be had for $1 a pop. The harder stuff is free, the first time. Once you're on the Aleve you won't be able to stop, and then you're mine. 
   I haven't really got a plan for the prostitution arm of my criminal organization. I thought maybe I'd try to talk to "Tight Pants" Pablo down in receiving, he doesn't seem to be very discriminating. And he always needs money to travel to his Karaoke contests. (If I hear The Children Are Our Future, one more time...)
   Well, the Office Mafia is set up, with me as the Kingpin. I'll add criminal enterprises as my influence spreads, in no time at all, I'll be rolling in my ill gotten gains. My office today, your office tomorrow, the world... a week from next Tuesday. Probably. 

*Update: Mary-Elizabeth from the secretary pool is already the Don(na?) of the Office Mafia. She didn't take kindly to me infringing on her territory. She had Sally-Sue and Wanda-Mae-Jenny-Ann work me over pretty good with archived TP reports. They scar your soul, but don't leave a mark. Also I'm pretty sure that I am now the office Ho, Mary-Elizabeth grabbed my butt and told me "that sweet little hiney is mine, to do with as I please." Oh Dilbert®, patron saint of office peons, please take me now. 
   

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Nutritionist To The Rich And Famous.


*flip is currently chronicling his attempts to get rich. Oddly enough, flip's exploits are being recounted alphabetically. (That's A-Z, for the uninitiated.) flip is also referring to himself in the third person. ' Cause flip's just cool like that.



Because I am slender, people will frequently ask if they can buy some meth off of me. When I tell them that I don't actually use meth, they frequently pull a gun on me, and demand that I produce, said meth. (After all, I live in Albuquerque, the celebrated meth paradise of AMC's Breaking Bad.) Seven times out of ten, I don't get pistol whipped, and the conversation invariably turns to my diet regimen. After enduring countless inquiries on my caloric intake, I decided to publish my diet. One, because I believe in helping your fellow man, and two, to make some sweet cash. Here is my diet in a nutshell, please send money. Which I may or may not use to buy beer with.
   1) Breakfast: Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Make sure to have a balanced diet of coffee. Unless you're on vacation, then a beer is a suitable substitute. A beer is also OK on an extended weekend. Or a regular one. Or if you don't have anything particularly pressing to do at work that day. Mondays. Mondays are almost always an acceptable day for beer breakfasts. But for goodness sake don't skip breakfast, 'cause it's like really important or something.
   2) Lunch: I prefer to eat healthy for lunch. Usually I just have a beer or two, and a stick of gum. The beers are for me, the gum is for my customers. You should save the gum for after the beers, otherwise it defeats the purpose. And since gum has almost NO calories, you can probably afford another beer.
   3) Dinner: At this point you should have some actual solid food.  A day old pizza or a Taco Bell burrito or a cigarette. AND THEN a beer. You don't want to deprive yourself, that's when you fall off the wagon. And the key to my diet, is rewarding yourself for making sensible diet decisions. But mostly beer.
   4) Dessert: I don't know... try a beer.


*In all likelihood your liver will decide to relocate to a less toxic location, say Chernobyl. To combat this, question your liver's manhood and call it a bi-atch. That almost always works. If not, have a beer and sign up for an organ transplant. At least you'll be thin.

Monday, April 15, 2013

Motivational Speaker.


*flip is currently chronicling his attempts to get rich. Oddly enough, flip's exploits are being recounted alphabetically. (That's A-Z, for the uninitiated.) flip is also referring to himself in the third person. ' Cause flip's just cool like that.



Anthony Robbins has an enormous solid gold statue of an otter having sex with a bald eagle. And that's just wrong. BUT, it just goes to show how stupidly wealthy he has gotten, by giving pep talks to business types. And there are way more companies than there are Anthony Robbins. I think I found a niche that needs filled.
   The only problem is; I don't know the first thing about business, (as is well documented in this blog) and the only time anybody ever tried to motivate me, was in Marine Corps boot camp. Ah whatever! It motivated me; I'm sure it translates just fine into the business world.


   You are all pathetic ferrets! You flipping disgust me! Why in the motherloving flip, did any of you puppies ever think that you could get ahead in this goshdanged business? You are snot! You are less than snot! You are the snot inside the other snot. You are a giant snot sandwich! I flipping hate every one of you wanna be ferret middle management puppy ant whiny flippers. FLIP! Flip you, and flip you, and flip you! I hope every one of you lazy ant flippers dies! You're a sorry lot of weak minded puppies and disgusting ferrets. Die! Maybe your replacement won't be such a flipping sissy!

*Update. My speech at the Girl Scout Jamboree didn't go over quite as well as I might have hoped. I didn't get rich. Unless you count restraining orders. I was ROLLING in those. Holla!

**Highlight text to view uncensored filth.

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Laboratory Test Subject.

*flip is currently chronicling his attempts to get rich. Oddly enough, flip's exploits are being recounted alphabetically. (That's A-Z, for the uninitiated.) flip is also referring to himself in the third person. ' Cause flip's just cool like that.

Every since PETA took over, laboratories are having a difficult time getting their new products tested and approved. Now that you can no longer put lipstick on a pig, the big companies are having to pay people to test their products. If you are brave and don't mind being a petri dish in evil science experiments, you can make a decent living as a human Guinea Pig.
   My latest lower intestinal rash from the side effects of teeth whitening gel had cleared up, and my monthly $2000 cable bill was due, so I perused the medical test subjects wanted section of Craigslist and applied up for Laboratory Test Subject. I was immediately approved.
   I showed up to the address listed on the ad. The lab seemed a little sketchy compared to most of the laboratory assistant jobs I've taken, but hey, they offered to pay "as much as you think the procedure was worth... post procedure." I showed up and was given the basic lab volunteer qualification test: "Are you here of your own volition?", "Are you currently alive?" I passed with flying colors.
   The nice man with the impossibly large facial scar and the white in a previous life lab coat strapped me down to the table and asked me one last time if I was voluntarily submitting to be a laboratory test subject. I said "D'uh! Yes, already. But it's actually pronounced La-BOR-a-TORY, not Lo-BOT-omy." The man nodded his head conspiratorially, and placed a gas-mask over my face.


*Update: I LIEK KITTEHS! BARK, BARK! INSTEDE OF MONIES, I GOT PAYD IN COOKIES. MY NEW DOKTORS SAY MY BRAIN SKAR MAKES ME HAPPY! Happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy. KITTEHS are my friend.  I liek, laboratororories, lobrotomies, lobostomies, lobotomies. BARK!