Finally at the hotel. I’ve been running 16 hour (or more) days for the last 2 weeks. Busy but the paycheck should be nice. The frustration comes when a lot of these hours are spent waiting. I can’t really get up and go anywhere because we could get started “any minute now” and of course, we don’t. The only bright side of this is that I have some type up some of my recent BS. Here are a few of the ones that have been bouncing around in my empty head…
Milk Mustaches
A silly idea that should have never seen the light of day is now getting far too much of our reality time. The Milk companies, consortium, whatever, is now giving out scholarships to high school students that appear on posters and ads with a milk mustache. They are also paying top athletes to appear in ads for milk.
I think it shows a severe drinking problem that these people can not drink a simple beverage without getting it all over themselves. And what the hell is wrong with these people that even if they did drink it too fast and got some on their lip, why aren’t they wiping it off?!?!?!
2-year-olds may be cute with a milk mustache or a Kool-Aid mustache but 17-year-old girls graduating from high school with a white stain on their upper lip is just obscene. Who did they have to blow to get their diploma? Yeah, Mike Piazza with a milk mustache; that’s helping his image right?
Not that I’m against oral sex, hetero or homo. Just call it for what it is. Milk mustaches are nothing more than blatant imagery used to make us think milk is sexy, which it is not. Milk (from a carton) will never be sexy and is, in fact, one of the more disturbing drinks available at the supermarket.
It used to just be milk. The only other option was chocolate milk but mom never let us buy it, we had a box of Nestle-Qwik at home. Now we have to wander through 1%, 2%, low fat, skim, soy, goat, just to find regular milk any more. And as long as we’re on that, what is the basis of calling soy milk, “milk”? Has anyone ever tamed a wild soy-beast and suckled from its many unfettered breasts? NO! Because soy is a plant and it has no teat! Soy milk does not exist. You are drinking soy mash.
Coming up on Independence Day here soon and I got to thinking about the couple of times I’ve been to Washington DC. I’d like to go back now that I am an adult and take in more of the sights and events now that I can appreciate them better.
But I’ve always found it strange that people LIVE in DC. Anyone find it unusual that there are no Senators, Congressmen or Representatives from DC? One of the biggest issues in the First American Revolution (Oh yeah, there will be another, I’m just getting in on being the first to number them. I’m pretty sure no one called it WWI until WWII came about) was “No taxation without representation” yet the citizens that live in the very heart of our government are being taxed and they have no representation. Seems a bit odd to me…
Another thorn is this amazing egomaniacal ability we Americans suffer from; to forget that the rest of the world was here before we were. We are the youngest kid on the block. We are that sniveling shit that everyone in the neighborhood secretly wants to see get hit by a truck.
I was watching the History Channel and they were going on and on about a restaurant or a statue or something that had been a landmark for an amazing 34 years! No, I didn’t miss any zeros, 34 years. Europe has royal dog turds older than that. Asia and Africa have entire civilizations older than history itself. Our self-importance and lack of reliability in anything we create has led us to the point where something that has sustained 34 years is worth celebrating? Even a 34 year old person isn’t that old. At least that’s what I keep telling Teresa.
Camp Crystal Lake
Driving back and forth between Miami and Jacksonville I keep seeing a sign (somewhere around Titusville?) for Camping. You know the regular signs for Food, Gas, and Lodging? They also have one for camping. This one is for “Camp Crystal Lake”. I shit you not.
Who is camping here? It’s in the middle of nowhere and in a desolate area anyway, what could be more appealing than naming it after one of the more infamous horror movies? On that stretch of road, I’ve often wondered what goes on just 50 feet from the highway. The dilapidated trailer and scrub brush trees are hiding nothing, I know there’s trouble brewing just yards from my car and if I’m unfortunate enough to break down, I’m sure I’ll hear banjo music. Jason can’t be too far behind.
Even if it was named that before the ’70s, wouldn’t you change it? What would it take; a couple of signs, some basic stationary? If you owned a motel named after your great grandfather Bates, wouldn’t you change it from the Bates Motel? I don’t care who came first, one is better known than the other. How many people have you run into with the last name Hitler recently? I rest my case.
Cellular Drivers
I’ve been trying to relax a little in my driving. I’ve been much better about highway speed. I still have a little to go before I can truly call my city driving rehabilitated. But I have been much more relaxed about yelling at other cars. There was a time that it was very possible that I might get out of my car to knock on your window to tell you that you drive like shit. It has happened. But I have been better. Until now.
I have come to a very real and very basic discovery that everyone else saw before I did. Everyone (and I do mean EVERYONE) that is in my way or is pissing me off in traffic, is on the phone.
It used to be a cute bumper sticker, “Hang up the phone and drive.” It used to be a minor nuisance. But now, it has become an epidemic. Do a little experimentation for yourselves. Go for a drive, maybe on your way to the clinic to get rid of that rash, maybe on your way to work… But just make a mental note on how many people you see that are talking on the phone INSTEAD of driving.
There are some that can do both but most are driving too slow or stopped at green lights because they can not multi-task. Some of them are tricky to spot. Many people now have ear-buds and just look like they are singing along with Britney Spears. Some of these dickheads are so far gone that they have those little “Borg”-looking implants in their ears. The remote earpiece wasn’t enough; they had to make sure it had little blue flashing lights in them so we would notice how important and how cool they are. Some one just kill these fuckers on sight.
You would think (I know I did) that evolution would have us getting BETTER at driving while talking. Those that could, would make it to work unharmed. Those that could not, would wind up mangled at the bottom of a fiery heap of 12 cars, a bulldozer, 4 chicken trucks (3 of which were fully loaded) and a busload of midget-wrestlers, thereby ensuring that they could not pass their inferior genes on while we (the ones who can) will pass our genes on freely, making a safer world full of children that are able to do more than one thing at a time.
New rule, if you’re on the phone, if I’m passing you on the right and I’m still going under the posted limit; I fire the special darts mounted on my driver-side door that cut right through the car and inject you with a sterilizing poison. You can not have any children. In fact, the shock and impact from the darts might knock you out and you may run into the guardrail; injuring or possibly killing yourself.
Jury Duty
I just went in for jury duty last Monday. They didn’t want me again this time. Last time it was because I worked in the telecommunications industry and I worked with BNC connectors. This time it was for a domestic abuse trial and it may have been something I said.
I have no problem serving on jury duty; in fact I was looking forward to it a little. I’ve seen “12 Angry Men”, I wanted to make a difference but it soon became clear to me that I was in competition with 20 other people to go home. After several hours, I knew I was screwed. I didn’t have any interesting stories or any reason that I wouldn’t be the perfect juror. I answered every question honestly, I knew how I could have answered them to get sent home but I was silly enough to actually WANT to do my “civic duty”.
It was about then that I realized that the only people left would be the most brain-dead, unimaginative people available. The ones that were interesting at all were the ones talking up a storm and really trying to get out of there.
One girl answered everything like she was drunk. Telling how she was arrested for possession, how everyone in her family beats each other up all the time, I was really feeling like she shouldn’t be here. Talking to her in the hall, she spoke clearly and articulately. She was putting on a show for the lawyers and judge.
Another woman answered the question “Have any of you been in a domestic violence dispute?” with, “Yes, I have been an abused wife for 20 years but I do apologize, I bring half of it on myself.” WTF!? How can she say that? Ahhhhhh! Help me; I’m competing with strangers to become low enough to be undesirable.
One question was “Do you think senior citizens deserve to be protected more so than others?” Most others answered yes. I finally had to ask for clarification.
“Are we safe in assuming that all the questions we are answering are meant as situations to be applied under the law? I mean, I agree that we should honor our seniors and protect them every bit possible but that under the law, they should get no special consideration. A dispute between 2 family members can be settled between each other and sometimes may get violent but once someone yells for the law, we have to apply the laws we have even and fairly no matter who it involves.”
The lawyer looked angry and about half of the jury said, “Yeah, what he said.”
I kept quiet about most everything else. They asked if we were ever in any fights, any domestic abuse situations, witnessed and domestic abuse. I didn’t give very many details when they asked me. If I really wanted to get off the jury I would have given them more details about the time I beat up a complete stranger because he hit a woman. It was back in the high school daze at a McDonalds parking lot. Some guy smacked his girlfriend and it was hard enough to make her stagger. I walked over and sucker punched this guy in his right eye. He started hollering about her sleeping with his best friend and I jumped on him and kept hitting him while explaining that you don’t hit women. (Alcohol may have been involved) My friend pulled me off him and we left. I never knew either of their names and never saw either of them again. Interestingly enough, the friend I was with that pulled me off of the guy ended up sleeping with my girlfriend. I never hit either of them.
I’ve had some wymin friends that actually get upset with me for my “outdated, chivalrous nature”. They say the categorical “thou shalt not hit a woman” attitude is discrimination every bit as bad as making blacks ride in the back of the bus. At least they’re consistent. I can agree with their logic and still refuse to give in to it.
Leave a Reply