I was talking to some girls the other day and they conveyed the same message I had heard from thousands of other girls. Girls don't like it when you come from behind and start dancing unannounced. Apparently it's rude. Get over yourself. First of all, if a guy comes and dances with you, it's a compliment. He either thinks you're attractive, or he appreciates the way you dance. He's not asking your hand in marriage or even on a date. He just wants to dance. What's the harm in that? In a way it's even better than him buying you a drink. If a guy buys you a drink he probably wants to talk to you. Unless your mouth is somehow in the back of your head, a guy dancing with you from behind is a great indication that he has no intentions of talking to you. If, for some odd reason, he does try to talk, just don't turn around. Act like you don't hear him. Stop acting like you're so hot that every guy who tries to dance with you wants to go out with you.
On the other hand, what are the options? The only thing I can think of is going to the girl and asking if you can dance with her. What is this, a cocktail party in the '40s? "Hi, my name is Ben. Can I have this dance?, or how about, "Hi, I'm Chris. I was wondering if I could grind up on your ass?" You come off awkward, corny or both. It sounds like a no win situation. Girls, ask yourself this question, if a guy came and asked you to dance, would you turn around and laugh at him? If your answer is no then you're a liar on top of being shallow.
I say, get over yourself. The real reason you don't want guys coming behind you and dancing is because you want to know what the guy looks like. He's not asking you to get married, so why does it matter what he looks like? So you can turn away the ugly ones. You want your friends to accept. Because, if by chance, the dance turns into something more, you already know they approve. You need the guy to be good looking to affirm your own looks. If a good looking guy came behind you to dance and your friends gave you "the nod" you wouldn't mind.
I have a solution. Take a picture of yourself before you go out and save it on your phone. Before you start dancing behind a girl, reach around and show her your picture. Write underneath, do you approve? Yeah, it's corny too, and a little creepy, but at least you had fun with it. The girl who appreciates that and gets a laugh out of it is probably pretty cool. If she doesn't, she's probably not fun, anyway. For those girls you need to reach around and show them a picture of your paycheck.
December 21, 2007
December 08, 2007
breaking up isn't hard to do
I hate it when people say that they tried to break up with their boy/girlfriend and they wouldn't let them. What does that mean? You either do it or you don't. It's simple. Cut and dry. The second you tell somebody you don't want to be with them, you're instantly not with them--even if they cry, beg and plead or say no. I'm sure that most people don't accept being broken up with, but I didn't know somebody had to accept something for it to be so. Most people don't accept getting tickets, getting fired or their wife's/husband's mother, but they're stuck like chuck.
cell phones are like noses
I was talking about cell phones in a earlier post and it reminded me. I got an email from my friend saying, "I got yelled at in the grocery store for being on my cell phone. This lady yelled at me and told me I was showing off that I had a cell phone." Are you serious? That's crazy. Everybody has a cell phone. I saw a homeless man with a cell phone the other day. Cell phones are like noses, everybody has one. Saying you're showing off your phone by talking on it is like saying you're showing off your shoes by walking in them. Also, showing off implies that somebody is going to be jealous by you having something. Since everybody has a cell phone, I can't imagine somebody being jealous of your particular cell phone. They may think your Blackberry is cool, or wish that they had a Razr, but they're not jealous of your phone. They don't want to be your cell phone, and they don't want to be you because you have a cell phone.
Shrimp fried chitterlings
I'm at school preparing for panel (I'm going to write something explaining panel at a later date). That means late nights, energy drink that make you feel like you'll never sleep again and enough fast food/takeout to make your arteries look like the inside of a cement mixer. Needless to say, there are a whole plethora of takeout menus laying around. I picked up one the other day that perturbed me, made me laugh and grossed me out all at the same time. It was for a vietnamese restaurant called Saigon Basil. Sounds innocent enough--until you hear how they describe themselves. On the menu it says that they are a Vietnamese, Thai and B.B.Q restaurant. What? I understand that we are in a different world, and we're trying to learn about and understand other cultures, but some things just don't mix. Vietnamese, Ok. Thai, I can get with that. But then you throw in B.B.Q. and I don't know what the hell is going on. It's just weird. The menu includes classics like, BBQ pork spring rolls, chargrilled ribs with steamed rice, and my personal favorite, curry ribs with fried rice. Huh? Maybe I'm just not that cultured, but that doesn't sound very appetizing. It's like being at a 4th of July picnic in China or something. I bet the guy that works there is named Tyrone Chung or something. He's the Tiger Woods of fast food (citation, Matt Wyne circa 2007).
It reminds me of this time when I was in high school and a couple of my friends wanted to go to this restaurant in an old rundown shopping center. The only other thing around was a beauty school next door. Sidenote: this was like a vocational beauty school. It was the junior college of beauty schools where girls who can't get into an official beauty school go. Anyway, so we go to the restaurant and we're a little early. They're not open yet. As we get up to the door a vietnamese guy appeared out of nowhere and tells us that they won't be open for another 15 minutes. My friend looked at me contemplating if the man that came to the door was the owner of the restaurant. Once we got inside, he went to the man and asked him if he was the owner. He said yes. That's not funny until you realize that we were at a restaurant called JR's Country Buffet, and JR is Vietnamese. I was expecting a fat guy with a cul de sac haircut, plaid flannel shirt and overalls. Instead JR is Vietnamese. I guess the Country JR was talking about was Vietnam.
It reminds me of this time when I was in high school and a couple of my friends wanted to go to this restaurant in an old rundown shopping center. The only other thing around was a beauty school next door. Sidenote: this was like a vocational beauty school. It was the junior college of beauty schools where girls who can't get into an official beauty school go. Anyway, so we go to the restaurant and we're a little early. They're not open yet. As we get up to the door a vietnamese guy appeared out of nowhere and tells us that they won't be open for another 15 minutes. My friend looked at me contemplating if the man that came to the door was the owner of the restaurant. Once we got inside, he went to the man and asked him if he was the owner. He said yes. That's not funny until you realize that we were at a restaurant called JR's Country Buffet, and JR is Vietnamese. I was expecting a fat guy with a cul de sac haircut, plaid flannel shirt and overalls. Instead JR is Vietnamese. I guess the Country JR was talking about was Vietnam.
December 07, 2007
Merry Christmas...why?
I'm sitting here at school trying to do some work. This post is evidence that not much is getting done. Why? Because I"m having profound thoughts. Why is christmas merry, but thanksgiving is happy? Can Thanksgiving not be merry? Are birthdays not a merry occasion? In essence, both words mean the same thing. So why is it that Christmas is merry, but birthdays, Easter and Thanksgiving are happy?
My first thought is that it has something to do with syllables. Christmas has two, as does birthday and Easter, while Thanksgiving has three. With that logic, both birthdays and Easter should be merry.
Maybe it's letter configuration. Christmas ends with a consonant, as does Easter and Thanksgiving. So does birthday for that matter. But let us forgo what we learned in fifth grade (stay with me). Y is only a vowel in words that don't contain a vowel anywhere else in the syllable, i.e. words like syllable(syl·la·ble) and physics (phys·ics). Let's forget that and pretend for a moment that birthday ends in a vowel. That, then would make birthdays happy, but Thanksgiving and Easter merry.
Let us now consider how many letters are in each word. Christmas has 9, Thanksgiving 12, birthday 8 and Easter 6. Christmas is the only word that contains an odd number of letters. That, possibly, may be the link we are looking for. Maybe only odd lettered holidays can me merry. That means Hanukah, depending on how you spell it (Hanukkah, Chanukah or Hanukah) should be merry. Presidents Day (if you include the day), merry. Martin Luther King Day, merry.
But that brings me to another thought. What constitutes a holiday? If we assume that it's not having to attend work, as with Christmas, birthdays and other days in which missing work could get you fired, are not considered holidays. But what about Easter? Easter is on Sunday. Most people don't have to work on Sunday so technically you wouldn't have to work on that day, but would you if it were, let's say, on a Monday? I don't know. Since Jesus rose from the dead on that day I'm going to go ahead and assume that he would want us to have that day off of work.
And Christmas is Jesus' birthday, but what about your own birthday? Let's say you're one of those, I-celebrate-at-12-the-night-before birthday people. Let's assume that you plan on getting plastered and not going in to work. By my logic, that planned taking off makes your birthday a holiday. If you just get drunk and don't feel like coming to work, then your birthday is no longer a holiday, just an excused absence.
What about characters. Christmas has Santa Clause, Easter has a bunny, and Thanksgiving has a turkey. Your birthday has no mascot; therefore, your birthday is not merry.
Ok. I'm a little delirious from not sleeping, and I imagine I could keep going all day. I'm going to go ahead and assume that there is no rhyme nor reason that Christmas is merry and Thanksgiving is not. But, considering i just wrote all this, I'm going to try and make some sense out of it--a postulation if you will. Your birthday is only merry if you, without being fired, get off work and choose to recognize y as a vowel, and/or you have adopted some sort of mascot that would give you gifts (like the birthday aardvark). Thanksgiving is merry by virtue of being an actual holiday. Though Thanksgiving has a mascot, it does not deliver gifts. Thanksgiving can't be a holiday based upon the gift-giving-mascot clause, unless you count the pilgrims and Indians. Since none of us were alive then I'll go ahead and scratch that. Easter is only merry based upon its syllable structure and the gift-bearing mascot. We're going to forgo the absence of work because it's on Sunday. If, however, you believe that if Easter were on Monday you wouldn't get the day off (because Jesus would want you to), Easter is doubly merry.
This is stupid
My first thought is that it has something to do with syllables. Christmas has two, as does birthday and Easter, while Thanksgiving has three. With that logic, both birthdays and Easter should be merry.
Maybe it's letter configuration. Christmas ends with a consonant, as does Easter and Thanksgiving. So does birthday for that matter. But let us forgo what we learned in fifth grade (stay with me). Y is only a vowel in words that don't contain a vowel anywhere else in the syllable, i.e. words like syllable(syl·la·ble) and physics (phys·ics). Let's forget that and pretend for a moment that birthday ends in a vowel. That, then would make birthdays happy, but Thanksgiving and Easter merry.
Let us now consider how many letters are in each word. Christmas has 9, Thanksgiving 12, birthday 8 and Easter 6. Christmas is the only word that contains an odd number of letters. That, possibly, may be the link we are looking for. Maybe only odd lettered holidays can me merry. That means Hanukah, depending on how you spell it (Hanukkah, Chanukah or Hanukah) should be merry. Presidents Day (if you include the day), merry. Martin Luther King Day, merry.
But that brings me to another thought. What constitutes a holiday? If we assume that it's not having to attend work, as with Christmas, birthdays and other days in which missing work could get you fired, are not considered holidays. But what about Easter? Easter is on Sunday. Most people don't have to work on Sunday so technically you wouldn't have to work on that day, but would you if it were, let's say, on a Monday? I don't know. Since Jesus rose from the dead on that day I'm going to go ahead and assume that he would want us to have that day off of work.
And Christmas is Jesus' birthday, but what about your own birthday? Let's say you're one of those, I-celebrate-at-12-the-night-before birthday people. Let's assume that you plan on getting plastered and not going in to work. By my logic, that planned taking off makes your birthday a holiday. If you just get drunk and don't feel like coming to work, then your birthday is no longer a holiday, just an excused absence.
What about characters. Christmas has Santa Clause, Easter has a bunny, and Thanksgiving has a turkey. Your birthday has no mascot; therefore, your birthday is not merry.
Ok. I'm a little delirious from not sleeping, and I imagine I could keep going all day. I'm going to go ahead and assume that there is no rhyme nor reason that Christmas is merry and Thanksgiving is not. But, considering i just wrote all this, I'm going to try and make some sense out of it--a postulation if you will. Your birthday is only merry if you, without being fired, get off work and choose to recognize y as a vowel, and/or you have adopted some sort of mascot that would give you gifts (like the birthday aardvark). Thanksgiving is merry by virtue of being an actual holiday. Though Thanksgiving has a mascot, it does not deliver gifts. Thanksgiving can't be a holiday based upon the gift-giving-mascot clause, unless you count the pilgrims and Indians. Since none of us were alive then I'll go ahead and scratch that. Easter is only merry based upon its syllable structure and the gift-bearing mascot. We're going to forgo the absence of work because it's on Sunday. If, however, you believe that if Easter were on Monday you wouldn't get the day off (because Jesus would want you to), Easter is doubly merry.
This is stupid
December 06, 2007
I'M TRYING TO HANG-UP WITH YOU!!!!!!!
First, I'd like to say that this post is not meant to be about anyone who I am friends with, or talk to on a regular basis. I'm not talking about anybody, I'm just talking about what I'm talking about; however, if the shoe fits, wear it, and if you're offended, it may be time to take a look in the mirror. Anyway, it's just an observation that I made. Please don't call me asking why I said this or who I was talking about. I'll hang up on you.
That being said, I can't stand it when you're on the phone and the person you're talking to won't let you get off the phone. Everybody knows what it sounds like when a conversation is winding down. The pauses get a little longer and you begin every sentence with the word alright or well, as in, "Alright, well, I gotta go now." Alright is the official I'm-getting-off-the-phone-with-you word. The thing is, there are some people who didn't get on the phone-etiquette train and try to talk over you when you start saying alright. They don't get it. It's like, "can't you see I'm trying to hang up with you!!!!???? Didn't you hear me say well!!??" The thing is, you never say anything. Why? Because you feel bad. You're thinking, they must have something good to say-- a funny story or something really interesting to tell me. There must be some reason why they're not picking up on the signals--some reason why they're not letting me get off the phone. The thing is, 9 times out of 10 they don't. They have absolutely nothing to say. So you're sitting on the phone listening to each other breathe. What's even worse is they usually ask you a question like, "why aren't you talking." Probably because I don't have anything else to say. That's why I was trying to get off the phone with you. And these people only want to talk to you when you have something really important to do, like watch football or deliver a baby--never when you're actually free to talk.
Anyway, that just bothers me. It's like they think you'll never talk again. Words aren't going to go out of style before the next time I talk to you. If you wait until the next time we talk I may even have something to say, but for now, I'M TRYING TO HANG-UP WITH YOU!!!!! It's funny too because you shouldn't have to try to hang up with someone, you just do it. If I You say bye and they say bye. It should be pretty cut and dry. Simple. But everybody knows somebody who says bye and then proceeds to continue to talk for another 15 minutes. Oh, I forgot to tell you this, or Oh, did you see Britney Spears on t.v. No. You shouldn't be allowed to talk after you say bye. Bye is official. You should've thought about your Britney Spears story before you said bye. Now you'll just have to tell me about it another time. There should also be a rule about calling back directly after hanging up. At least a 15 minute rule, because some people do hang up after they say bye. Then they remember the Britney Spears story they didn't tell and call you right back...thirty seconds later. Short of you dying or getting your eye poked out, you shouldn't have to call somebody back right after hanging up with them. Usually, whatever it is you had to say can wait.
That being said, I can't stand it when you're on the phone and the person you're talking to won't let you get off the phone. Everybody knows what it sounds like when a conversation is winding down. The pauses get a little longer and you begin every sentence with the word alright or well, as in, "Alright, well, I gotta go now." Alright is the official I'm-getting-off-the-phone-with-you word. The thing is, there are some people who didn't get on the phone-etiquette train and try to talk over you when you start saying alright. They don't get it. It's like, "can't you see I'm trying to hang up with you!!!!???? Didn't you hear me say well!!??" The thing is, you never say anything. Why? Because you feel bad. You're thinking, they must have something good to say-- a funny story or something really interesting to tell me. There must be some reason why they're not picking up on the signals--some reason why they're not letting me get off the phone. The thing is, 9 times out of 10 they don't. They have absolutely nothing to say. So you're sitting on the phone listening to each other breathe. What's even worse is they usually ask you a question like, "why aren't you talking." Probably because I don't have anything else to say. That's why I was trying to get off the phone with you. And these people only want to talk to you when you have something really important to do, like watch football or deliver a baby--never when you're actually free to talk.
Anyway, that just bothers me. It's like they think you'll never talk again. Words aren't going to go out of style before the next time I talk to you. If you wait until the next time we talk I may even have something to say, but for now, I'M TRYING TO HANG-UP WITH YOU!!!!! It's funny too because you shouldn't have to try to hang up with someone, you just do it. If I You say bye and they say bye. It should be pretty cut and dry. Simple. But everybody knows somebody who says bye and then proceeds to continue to talk for another 15 minutes. Oh, I forgot to tell you this, or Oh, did you see Britney Spears on t.v. No. You shouldn't be allowed to talk after you say bye. Bye is official. You should've thought about your Britney Spears story before you said bye. Now you'll just have to tell me about it another time. There should also be a rule about calling back directly after hanging up. At least a 15 minute rule, because some people do hang up after they say bye. Then they remember the Britney Spears story they didn't tell and call you right back...thirty seconds later. Short of you dying or getting your eye poked out, you shouldn't have to call somebody back right after hanging up with them. Usually, whatever it is you had to say can wait.
October 17, 2007
bathroom attendants promote bad hygiene
So I'm at the club. I'm having a good time and everything when I feel the urge to go to the bathroom. I hate going to the bathroom at clubs because most of them have a damn bathroom attendant. Why in the world is there a bathroom attendant? Do people think that makes their club more high class? It doesn't. Why do I need somebody attending the bathroom? I don't need anybody to open the door for me. More importantly, I'm almost 25 and I damn sure don't need any help aiming and shooting. I've also gotten pretty good at fastening my belt over the years. What are they there for? Is it safety? Do they think some poor drunk guy is going to slip in the Mountain Dew and bump their head while they're going to the bathroom? And then they turn the water on for you so you can wash your hands. I can do that myself. In fact, I do it every other time I go to the bathroom. I don't need help with that. Then they hand you a paper towel and try to spray you with some knockoff cologne that went out of style three years ago. If I wanted to smell like an old man I would've grabbed some of my dad's Stetson from the house. The worst part is that after all this, they expect you to tip them. That's absolutely ridiculous and promotes bad hygiene. Usually those bathroom attendant guys love to talk, so I'll act like I'm going until he gets into a conversation with a guy and I can walk out while he's talking. My other scheme is to act like I'm going until there are a lot of guys in the bathroom so I know the attendant will be occupied turning on water and spraying cologne and I can walk out the door unnoticed. That way I don't feel badly. Yeah, it's gross, I know, but what else am I supposed to do? I don't want to go and wash my hands because I know he's going to turn the water on for me. If he turns the water on for me then I feel obligated to tip him (why, I don't know), and he'll also ask me if I want some cologne (which for some reason I can't say no to), and then I have to give him even more tip. It's bad enough that you have to pay and tip the parking guy, the coat guy (another racket), the bartender guy, and pay a cover to the bouncer guy, but you have to tip the bathroom guy too? It cost's a lot of money to go out these days. Who goes to the bank saying, "I guess I'll get out 50 bucks for tonight. Oh wait, I can't forget about the bathroom attendant. I'll go ahead and get 55 out."? And that's only if you're planning on going to the bathroom once or twice. You can predict how many drinks you're gonna have, but it's hard to predict how many times you're going have to go to the bathroom. And what is the proper bathroom attendant tip? In a restaurant it's usually 20%, but that's 20% of a number. How do I give 20% of turning on the water, or a spray of cologne? Next time I'll just wait for the attendant to go to the bathroom and give the water a quarter turn on for him and rip off a quarter of a paper towel. That'll be his tip, and that's 25% so I'm being generous.
October 10, 2007
i-pod means I'm old
They say the older you get, the more you start to act like your parents. I've always been skeptical of that (because I'm nothing like my parents), but I said something the other day that made me believe it. I was driving down the street past my old high school with a friend. I think almost every kid that walked by had an i-pod on. The exact words that came out of my mouth were, "Look at all those kids with i-pods. They're so lucky they get to listen to something while they're walking home. We used to just listen to cars go by." Am I that old? That sounded like one of those walking-uphill-both-ways-in-the-snow stories my parents used to tell me when I was little. And where do they get the money for i-pods? I had to cut six yards just to get a Walkman and they were only forty bucks. The cheapest i-pod you can get is 100, I think. That's a lot of yards to cut. Maybe I'm just old, or maybe I'm just jealous, but I'm well on my way to telling my own uphill-both-ways stories.
October 05, 2007
how to be a player: don't have a cell phone
I was watching Boomerang today. You know the movie where Eddie Murphy is a player but falls in love with Robin Givens and then she plays him? Halle Berry is in it too--before she started being a bad driver and hitting people in her car. There is one particular part in the movie that made me laugh. Robin Givens was supposed to go on a date with Eddie Murphy's. She shows up late and her excuse was that she had some meetings that went over long and there wasn't a phone on the plane to call. I know you remember this part. It's the one where she apologizes for not calling by coming over with a trenchcoat on and Vicky's underneath. Nothing says I'm sorry like a pantyclad woman with an overcoat on, but I digress. Back to the point. I don't know when this movie was made, I believe 92. I know cell phones weren't huge then, but they were high-powered advertising executives. I'm sure she had, or should've had, a cellphone--at least a pager. That excuse definitely wouldn't have gone over in todays world. Cell phones screwed-up the I-couldn't-call excuse for players (even though some still try to use it).
September 23, 2007
babies are funny (and by that I mean adults are)
I noticed a couple funny things about babies and adults today. The first one is that people will say your baby is cute no matter how ugly it is. What is the official age, or how ugly does a baby have to be, before you can inform somebody that their child isn't cute?
The second funny thing that I noticed about adults and babies is that people always grab the feet or the hands and say, "And how're you doing" as if they think the baby will answer them. I know that they know the baby won't answer, but they do it anyway. That's pretty funny, but what's funnier is that nine times out of ten the parents, knowing their baby won't, answer, "Say, I'm doing fine." It's like they're answering for the kid because they don't want their child to be rude. If somebody asks you a question you answer it, and since the baby can't, the parents do it. It's funny too because they're not really answering the question for the baby, they're telling it what to say, and we already discussed that babies can't talk. How crazy would it be if the kid actually answered? The parents always say that the kid doing well. How do they know? What if he's feeling bloated, or gassy? Then, not only is your child rude, but he's a liar as well. In reality, the baby is probably feeling pissed off because people are asking it questions it can't answer.
The second funny thing that I noticed about adults and babies is that people always grab the feet or the hands and say, "And how're you doing" as if they think the baby will answer them. I know that they know the baby won't answer, but they do it anyway. That's pretty funny, but what's funnier is that nine times out of ten the parents, knowing their baby won't, answer, "Say, I'm doing fine." It's like they're answering for the kid because they don't want their child to be rude. If somebody asks you a question you answer it, and since the baby can't, the parents do it. It's funny too because they're not really answering the question for the baby, they're telling it what to say, and we already discussed that babies can't talk. How crazy would it be if the kid actually answered? The parents always say that the kid doing well. How do they know? What if he's feeling bloated, or gassy? Then, not only is your child rude, but he's a liar as well. In reality, the baby is probably feeling pissed off because people are asking it questions it can't answer.
girls with ambition
I don' t know if you've heard of T-Pain. He's the R&B singer whose computerized/synthesized voice is a regular feature in every song at the top of the charts. His voice is so synthesized that I don't know if he can actually sing. He sounds like what your computer would if it could sing. His first hit song is called, "I'm In Love With A Stripper"--a fine little ditty about his affinity for dancers and the clubs they dance in (we've al been there, literally). I won't lie, it's kinda catchy. The song he has out now is called "Bartender". This song is about his desire to date the female bartender at a club (been here before, too). I'm staring to see a pattern. T-Pain seems to like women with jobs--preferably in the service industry. I have no problem with that. I encourage dating women with ambition, but is he going to write a song about every one of his girlfriends with a career? I guess his next hit will be, "Bag My Groceries Girl"?.
uncomfortable
Every guy remembers how undomfortable it was the first time they bought condoms. It may be one of the most uncomfortable things you'll ever do. My first time, I walked around the store for about 15 minutes pretending I didn't know where they were, and refusing help when asked if I needed some. Finally, I approached the section, and after much deliberating about things I hand no idea about, like spermicidal jelly, ribbed and resevior tip, I decided on her pleasure. Even at an early age I figured I might need some help in that area. After that, I walked around the store for about ten more minutes and then I approached the counter. I grabbed one of those Hollywood tabloid magazines and pretended to read it so I wouldn't have to look the woman at the counter in the eye. The only time I left the cover of my magazine was to grab the bag and tip-toe out. I won't lie, I felt really cool at the time. I put the condom in my wallet so it would get the little distressed ring inside (you know the one I'm talking about). I showed it to everyone who wanted to see it.
Now, about a month away from my 25th birthday, I don't think buying condoms is cool anymore, but it is just as uncomfortable. I still walk aimlessly around pretending like I don't know where the condoms are. They even put them in the back of the store so you have to make the long walk to the front. Well, the other day I went into the store to freshen up my goodies drawer and there just so happened to be an older female cashier and an older woman already at the counter. I tried to stand in the back but the older woman wasn't ready yet and asked me to go in front of her. The whole time I was whistling a son, and I never once looked the cashier in the eye. I just played with my bank card. I saw the older woman behind me look at my finger. I'm sure she was thinking to herself how much of a sinner I was for having pre-marital sex. I felt like I was disappointing her. She just looked at me like she wanted to give me a hug. Then the woman at the counter said, "Have a nice night", (voice inflection on night) and I just felt dirty. I felt like she knew what I was about to do--like she thought I was going to do it in the parking lot or something. I was so relieved when I got out of there. I feel like there should be a no speech policy in the drug store when people buy condoms. When you leave, the cashier should just nod their head. You nod your head back in agreement and then you leave.
Now, about a month away from my 25th birthday, I don't think buying condoms is cool anymore, but it is just as uncomfortable. I still walk aimlessly around pretending like I don't know where the condoms are. They even put them in the back of the store so you have to make the long walk to the front. Well, the other day I went into the store to freshen up my goodies drawer and there just so happened to be an older female cashier and an older woman already at the counter. I tried to stand in the back but the older woman wasn't ready yet and asked me to go in front of her. The whole time I was whistling a son, and I never once looked the cashier in the eye. I just played with my bank card. I saw the older woman behind me look at my finger. I'm sure she was thinking to herself how much of a sinner I was for having pre-marital sex. I felt like I was disappointing her. She just looked at me like she wanted to give me a hug. Then the woman at the counter said, "Have a nice night", (voice inflection on night) and I just felt dirty. I felt like she knew what I was about to do--like she thought I was going to do it in the parking lot or something. I was so relieved when I got out of there. I feel like there should be a no speech policy in the drug store when people buy condoms. When you leave, the cashier should just nod their head. You nod your head back in agreement and then you leave.
Labels:
condoms,
old women,
pre-marital sex,
uncomfortable
September 22, 2007
childcare

I was driving down the street the other day and I saw this sign. You may not be able to read it because I took the picture with my phone. I also couldn't get it to upload rightside-up. Anyway, the sign says, Moderate & Quality Childcare Now Enrolling, and it lists a telephone number. I don't have any kids, but why would I pay for moderate childcare? What exactly does moderate childcare mean? Does that mean that they feed them, but also let them run with scissors in their hand? I wonder what the cost is to upgrade from the moderate to the quality package. It also makes me think that if they're capable of quality childcare, shouldn't they just stick with that? I'm sure they're not getting too many mothers asking for the moderate--not when you can biggie size it.
And who are these people who claim to offer the child care? It's obvious to me that they're not very established, nor do they know how to reach the target. I don't know many mothers who want to find their new daycare on the side of the road--especially if they offer moderate childcare. Let's just say someone is desperate enough to call that number, I can only imagine who the miscreant is that answers the phone. "Yo, This is Leadpipe Louie's daycare, your friendly neighborhood au pair and bookie." All the while there are screaming kids in the background and he's scratching his beard over little Billy's grilled cheese. Now let's just say that after talking to Louie, he's somehow convinced you that his is the daycare for you. What do you think his establishment looks like? Well, it's obviously a front so he can launder his numbers running money. I'm sure the windows would have iron bars on them and a hole in the front door for his shotgun. At least you know your kids are protected. Ok, ok, maybe not, but let's be honest, do you really want moderate childcare?
August 17, 2007
manners
I was in Caribou Coffee today doing work and a woman asked me to watch her computer while she went to the bathroom. It's easy enough to watch a computer, so I said yes. The computer seemed obedient enough, and the woman seemed nice enough that even if the computer had legs, it probably wouldn't have gone anywhere. That being said, the only way the computer was going to leave was if someone stole it. I saw what the woman looked like and I wasn't going to let somebody who didn't appear to be her take it without a pretty good explanation. I can't think of a good enough explanation to let a woman's laptop that I'm supposed to be computer sitting get stolen, but if I do I'll let you know.
The whole idea of asking somebody to watch something for you is funny. Obviously she felt the need to ask me, so she may have thought that I wouldn't. But why would I sit there an let somebody's property get stolen--even if I'm not asked to watch it? I would've watched it had she asked me or not. But what if I'm the guy who sits in Caribou waiting for people to ask me to watch their stuff so I can steal it? Then I bet she would've felt really stupid. Maybe she was just being polite by asking. Maybe I'm just a nice person for saying yes. Or maybe, just maybe, the joke's on me because I didn't ask her to watch my computer when I went to the bathroom. It was still there when I got out, so I'm assuming she did. One can never be so sure. I mean, I didn't ask her.
The whole idea of asking somebody to watch something for you is funny. Obviously she felt the need to ask me, so she may have thought that I wouldn't. But why would I sit there an let somebody's property get stolen--even if I'm not asked to watch it? I would've watched it had she asked me or not. But what if I'm the guy who sits in Caribou waiting for people to ask me to watch their stuff so I can steal it? Then I bet she would've felt really stupid. Maybe she was just being polite by asking. Maybe I'm just a nice person for saying yes. Or maybe, just maybe, the joke's on me because I didn't ask her to watch my computer when I went to the bathroom. It was still there when I got out, so I'm assuming she did. One can never be so sure. I mean, I didn't ask her.
July 24, 2007
Bud Selig did steroids
It seems to me, unfortunately, that Barry Bonds has been shooting something into his veins that has swelled his body and head to two times its normal size. At first, I didn't want to believe it. I, unlike most people, like Barry Bonds. Yes, he is an asshole, but I'm not watching him play baseball because he's a nice guy. I'm watching because he's good. I suppose everybody would rather watch really nice schlubbs play sports. I'm still not of the view that athletes should be role models. They're human beings just like everyone else. Parents should either urge their kids to look up to them, or pick an athlete who "seems" to be "wholesome". The only problem with that is that nobody is as good or as bad as they seem. We all have buttons and we're all human beings. That "wholesome" player may make a mistake. Is he then a "bad person"? I just think he's a person who made a mistake. Role model is a heavy term to place upon somebody who is good at sports-somebody who just wants to play a game.
That's just my soapbox. What I really wanted to talk about is Bud Selig. He's saying he isn't going to go to the games where Barry will tie and break the all-time homerun record. He's trying to wash his hands/remove himself/not support the Steroids Era, and subsequently Barry Bonds. Bud, you can't do that. The MLB had its hands in the cookie jar too, and therefore so did you. You're the commish. You turned your back to what was going on because homeruns, attendance and ratings were up. All the steroids went on under your watch and under your nose. Now you want to wash your hands? You can't. Every one of Barry Bonds' swolen-steroid-induced-record-breaking homerun balls, should be signed by the two of you. You and Barry. You, along with a whole lot of God given talent, made Barry Bonds. You didn't inject it into his veins, but you closed the bathroom stall while he did it. I don't understand how that is getting lost in the shuffle in all of this. I don't understand how you can talk about steroids and Barry Bonds and not talk about Bud Selig. The two are synonomous.
That's just my soapbox. What I really wanted to talk about is Bud Selig. He's saying he isn't going to go to the games where Barry will tie and break the all-time homerun record. He's trying to wash his hands/remove himself/not support the Steroids Era, and subsequently Barry Bonds. Bud, you can't do that. The MLB had its hands in the cookie jar too, and therefore so did you. You're the commish. You turned your back to what was going on because homeruns, attendance and ratings were up. All the steroids went on under your watch and under your nose. Now you want to wash your hands? You can't. Every one of Barry Bonds' swolen-steroid-induced-record-breaking homerun balls, should be signed by the two of you. You and Barry. You, along with a whole lot of God given talent, made Barry Bonds. You didn't inject it into his veins, but you closed the bathroom stall while he did it. I don't understand how that is getting lost in the shuffle in all of this. I don't understand how you can talk about steroids and Barry Bonds and not talk about Bud Selig. The two are synonomous.
Labels:
Barry Bonds,
Bud Selig,
steroid era,
steroids
July 21, 2007
uncomfortable
I hate it when you go to a friends house to hang out and the parents insist that you eat. No excuse will work. "I already ate", "I'm not hungy", "I don't eat that," nothing works. They keep insisting that you eat until you finally just put something on your plate. You sit there with food on your plate that you know you're not going to eat. Then inevitably they're going to ask you why you're not eating. There is no real answer to that question other than to explain how you were not hungry to begin with. You can't say that, though because it may seem like you're being a smartass. You just sit there uncomfortable. Sometimes it gets worse from there. Sometimes they don't believe you and accuse you of not liking their food, or disliking their style of cooking. What do yo do? Two years ago I was at a friends cookout. I wasn't really hungry so I didn't eat. Finally, after being pressured into it, I went to put some stuff on a plate. Now I'm all for a good cookout, but there needs to be some groundrules. One being to cover the food. I get over to the food and I think I saw a whole family of flies. Not just a mother, father, son and daughter, but a whole extended family. I took the loose cover that was on the food and they all looked at me like I had opened the door to their room while they were sleeping. I wouldn't have eaten any food if it was the last supper. I went through and put a couple things on my plate, and waited until the time was right to throw my plate away. The only problem with that plan was that apparently there was a whole gaggle of food that wasn't even out yet. My empty plate was an indication that I really enjoyed the food and wanted more.
The worst part about fake eating at a friends house is once you fake it once they actually think you like what they cooked. Everytime you come over they make the same thing assuming that you really enjoyed it all the other times. Not good. I guess it's just one of those times where being honest may be the best way to go.
There is nothing more uncomfortable than going to someones house and their parents are arguing-especially when you're in the room. What exactly are you supposed to do in that situation? If you leave the room and acknowledge the fact that they're arguing, then it makes it uncomfortable for them. If you stay in the room then it's really uncomfortable for you. You have to sit there and act like you're not seeing what's going on. I was at a friends house one time and the dad was yelling at my friends sister and she started crying. She said she wasn't coming to dinner because she felt like the dad didn't love her. The dad said if she didn't come to dinner then he wouldnt either. Then the mom started yelling at the both of them because they neither would come to dinner. Very uncomfortable. I felt like I should say something but I knew that it probably wasn't right.
The worst part about fake eating at a friends house is once you fake it once they actually think you like what they cooked. Everytime you come over they make the same thing assuming that you really enjoyed it all the other times. Not good. I guess it's just one of those times where being honest may be the best way to go.
There is nothing more uncomfortable than going to someones house and their parents are arguing-especially when you're in the room. What exactly are you supposed to do in that situation? If you leave the room and acknowledge the fact that they're arguing, then it makes it uncomfortable for them. If you stay in the room then it's really uncomfortable for you. You have to sit there and act like you're not seeing what's going on. I was at a friends house one time and the dad was yelling at my friends sister and she started crying. She said she wasn't coming to dinner because she felt like the dad didn't love her. The dad said if she didn't come to dinner then he wouldnt either. Then the mom started yelling at the both of them because they neither would come to dinner. Very uncomfortable. I felt like I should say something but I knew that it probably wasn't right.
Labels:
cookout,
eating,
family problems,
uncomfortable
Confidence
It's been a long time, but I'm back now. Being as though I want to be in the business of advertising, I figured I'd write something about it. I was trying to figure out the name of the girl from the RGX body spray ads (if you're a warm blooded, half-brained and even borderline heterosexual you know why) and I ran across a guys blog.
In his blog, http://www.tvsquad.com/2007/05/25/tv-101-why-i-cant-stand-the-rgx-body-spray-girl-videos/ , the guy says he thinks the ad really says: "I'm that b*tch you knew in high school. You remember, don't you? Senior year, you had a crush on me and sent me that nice note which I laughed about at lunch with all my friends. Thanks for that, it was really funny. Anyway, you should know I only date douchey frat-boys. That's right, if a guy isn't driving a BMW that his dad bought him and wearing a Polo shirt with the collar turned up then I'm not really all that interested. I know you hate those guys from the center of your soul, but that's the only way you have even a glimmer of a chance with me. Lucky for you, there's a brand new product that can actually turn you into that guy. Buy it, try it, and maybe we'll talk."
Besides having some serious issues with women, I think he is completely wrong. In fact, I feel like this ad is taylor made for the nerdy guy who couldn't get girls in high school. It's saying: "You're scared. Just the thought of coming over and speaking to me makes you want to wet your pants. See, the thing is, I'll never know. If you decide to grow some balls and talk to me, I'll never know you're a pansy. I'll think you're a corvette driving, football throwing, power-suit wearing, corner office having, man's man. Not only will your confidence turn me on, I'll probably go home with you. So, go do some push-ups, flex in the mirror while calling yourself "the champ" or spray some RGX body. Do whatever you have do to boost you confidence to come talk to me. It will probably be worth your trouble." That's what I think these ads are saying.
Unfortunately, for some reason, confidence is a bad thing. Confidence, however, is different from arrogance. One is a sense of yourself, and the other a sense of superiority. For some reason, people have made the two synonomous. People are made to feel bad for being confident. If you're good at something you can't even admit it. You have to act apprehensive at the risk of seeming arrogant.
In his blog, the guy also said that it's dividing the world into winners and losers. I don't think so. That view just reinforces the couch-sitting video game playing mentality we have. If you don't get off the couch and try you won't fail. You may never prosper, but you'll never fail. The ads are really dividing the world into tryers and people too scared to get off the couch. The tryers don't always get the girl, but they get more than the guy who sits on his ass. You have to get in the game to get a hit. The guys who are always complaining about not getting girls are usually the guys who never even try. They stand in the corner and talk about how that girl over there is too stuckup and would never talk to them.
I'm proud to be confident. I'm proud that I have gotten shot down just as many times as I've prevailed. I'm proud that I was in the game rather than watching from the bench. You don't have to change who you are. You don't even really have to be confident. Just act like it and you've got it made. You may still be a nerd. Just don't act like it. Not even that. Just be confident in your nerd-dom. Everybody has something to be confident in. It may not be your looks or you body, but you have something. If it's math, then be good at math. If it's singing, then be a good singer, but don't sit on your couch and talk about how you're a better singer than everybody on American Idol.
In his blog, http://www.tvsquad.com/2007/05/25/tv-101-why-i-cant-stand-the-rgx-body-spray-girl-videos/ , the guy says he thinks the ad really says: "I'm that b*tch you knew in high school. You remember, don't you? Senior year, you had a crush on me and sent me that nice note which I laughed about at lunch with all my friends. Thanks for that, it was really funny. Anyway, you should know I only date douchey frat-boys. That's right, if a guy isn't driving a BMW that his dad bought him and wearing a Polo shirt with the collar turned up then I'm not really all that interested. I know you hate those guys from the center of your soul, but that's the only way you have even a glimmer of a chance with me. Lucky for you, there's a brand new product that can actually turn you into that guy. Buy it, try it, and maybe we'll talk."
Besides having some serious issues with women, I think he is completely wrong. In fact, I feel like this ad is taylor made for the nerdy guy who couldn't get girls in high school. It's saying: "You're scared. Just the thought of coming over and speaking to me makes you want to wet your pants. See, the thing is, I'll never know. If you decide to grow some balls and talk to me, I'll never know you're a pansy. I'll think you're a corvette driving, football throwing, power-suit wearing, corner office having, man's man. Not only will your confidence turn me on, I'll probably go home with you. So, go do some push-ups, flex in the mirror while calling yourself "the champ" or spray some RGX body. Do whatever you have do to boost you confidence to come talk to me. It will probably be worth your trouble." That's what I think these ads are saying.
Unfortunately, for some reason, confidence is a bad thing. Confidence, however, is different from arrogance. One is a sense of yourself, and the other a sense of superiority. For some reason, people have made the two synonomous. People are made to feel bad for being confident. If you're good at something you can't even admit it. You have to act apprehensive at the risk of seeming arrogant.
In his blog, the guy also said that it's dividing the world into winners and losers. I don't think so. That view just reinforces the couch-sitting video game playing mentality we have. If you don't get off the couch and try you won't fail. You may never prosper, but you'll never fail. The ads are really dividing the world into tryers and people too scared to get off the couch. The tryers don't always get the girl, but they get more than the guy who sits on his ass. You have to get in the game to get a hit. The guys who are always complaining about not getting girls are usually the guys who never even try. They stand in the corner and talk about how that girl over there is too stuckup and would never talk to them.
I'm proud to be confident. I'm proud that I have gotten shot down just as many times as I've prevailed. I'm proud that I was in the game rather than watching from the bench. You don't have to change who you are. You don't even really have to be confident. Just act like it and you've got it made. You may still be a nerd. Just don't act like it. Not even that. Just be confident in your nerd-dom. Everybody has something to be confident in. It may not be your looks or you body, but you have something. If it's math, then be good at math. If it's singing, then be a good singer, but don't sit on your couch and talk about how you're a better singer than everybody on American Idol.
May 05, 2007
answer to life's burning questions
If you could have any super power what would it be? I would want to know what people were thinking. That power would be invaluable. I always want to know. If I couldn't have that power I would want to be really fast.
The other day I was thinking. If you die, I wonder if you get to see what you would've done had you stayed alive. That would be cool too. Or maybe if you could see your own funeral and see who shows up and see what they're thinking.
Would you rather have a time machine or a teleporter? I would rather have a time machine. With a teleporter you could only go back and forth to places in the same time. Like say you're hungry and you're at your house. You could say, "take me to Wendy's" and you're there. You don't have to worry about the space/time continuum or anything like that. With a time machine you could go anywhere you want. The only drawback is it has to be something you were already going to do or already did. If you didn't get off the couch and go to Wendy's ten minutes or so into the future then it wouldn't matter. You could, however, go to the the future and then go to Wendy's. You have to be careful not the run into yourself though. That would screw everything up.
If you were a girl/guy would you date yourself? I would...I think. I've been told I'd make a pretty girl so I'd definately think I was hot, but whether or not I would date myself would depend on if I knew it was me or not. I mean if I knew me already or if I knew it was just me as a girl. If I knew then I wouldn't trust myself because I'd say anything to get in my pants. If I was just some random girl that didn't know who I was then I'd probably fall for it since I'm pretty charming.
I wonder what Victoria's secret is. It can't be a very big one because her draws ain't hiding much. I think the secret is that she's making a killing on selling you next to nothing. It's a raquet, allbeit a raquet that I happily buy into. The secret is really that it's all a big trick. For the most part I don't really care what kind of panties a girl is wearing, nor do I think most men care. There are basically two things to deal with when it comes to panties. Either I'm going to get to see them, or I'm not. If I'm not, then I don't really care or care to know what you're wearing underneath your dress. If I am, then I probably don't want them on long enough for me to notice that they have a lacey or floral pattern on them.
I'd like to try and figure out how many licks it takes to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop but I can't help but bite the damn thing. I figure that it's somewhere between 127 and 418. I don't know though. I feel like the real answer depends on the acidity and make-up of one's saliva, the surface area of one's tongue, the licking force and the speed or rate or licking.
If I could be any animal in the world I think I'd be a Polar Bear. They seem like they're really cool and chilled out (pun intented), but if you screw with them they can really mess you up.
The other day I was thinking. If you die, I wonder if you get to see what you would've done had you stayed alive. That would be cool too. Or maybe if you could see your own funeral and see who shows up and see what they're thinking.
Would you rather have a time machine or a teleporter? I would rather have a time machine. With a teleporter you could only go back and forth to places in the same time. Like say you're hungry and you're at your house. You could say, "take me to Wendy's" and you're there. You don't have to worry about the space/time continuum or anything like that. With a time machine you could go anywhere you want. The only drawback is it has to be something you were already going to do or already did. If you didn't get off the couch and go to Wendy's ten minutes or so into the future then it wouldn't matter. You could, however, go to the the future and then go to Wendy's. You have to be careful not the run into yourself though. That would screw everything up.
If you were a girl/guy would you date yourself? I would...I think. I've been told I'd make a pretty girl so I'd definately think I was hot, but whether or not I would date myself would depend on if I knew it was me or not. I mean if I knew me already or if I knew it was just me as a girl. If I knew then I wouldn't trust myself because I'd say anything to get in my pants. If I was just some random girl that didn't know who I was then I'd probably fall for it since I'm pretty charming.
I wonder what Victoria's secret is. It can't be a very big one because her draws ain't hiding much. I think the secret is that she's making a killing on selling you next to nothing. It's a raquet, allbeit a raquet that I happily buy into. The secret is really that it's all a big trick. For the most part I don't really care what kind of panties a girl is wearing, nor do I think most men care. There are basically two things to deal with when it comes to panties. Either I'm going to get to see them, or I'm not. If I'm not, then I don't really care or care to know what you're wearing underneath your dress. If I am, then I probably don't want them on long enough for me to notice that they have a lacey or floral pattern on them.
I'd like to try and figure out how many licks it takes to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop but I can't help but bite the damn thing. I figure that it's somewhere between 127 and 418. I don't know though. I feel like the real answer depends on the acidity and make-up of one's saliva, the surface area of one's tongue, the licking force and the speed or rate or licking.
If I could be any animal in the world I think I'd be a Polar Bear. They seem like they're really cool and chilled out (pun intented), but if you screw with them they can really mess you up.
April 03, 2007
Spartan workout plan
I saw 300 about a week ago. I need to get on the spartan workout plan. I wonder how the spartans had access to ab-rollers so early. I know that Sparta was probably a self-sufficient territory and the men probably did a great deal of backbreaking work, but come on. There was not one of them who was even a little overweight. Not even a pudge. I guess they were doing crunches between picking the fields and shoeing the horse. I can't imagine how they had time for cardio.
parents just don't understand
I was talking to a girl the other day. She was all excited about prom and her dress and she started describing it. I asked her if the dress had a split or something in it and her mom, who was sitting across the table said, "Oh no no no. Momma don't do splits in dresses for 17 year-olds." I thought that was odd coming from the same woman who allows her daughter to have parties in her house when she is not home. I guess she's one of those mom's who thinks that as long as you do it at my house it's ok. What does a dress with a split in it do that's not being done at a house party with no adult supervision? She even buys the beer. They're going to do it anyway, right? That's crazy logic. You're going to facilitate underage drinking because kids are going to do it anyway. Let's buy them weed and condoms too. I mean, they're going to do it anyway. But please, please, don't buy them dresses with splits in them. That's just outragous. In fact, I'm starting a petition to lower the drinking age to 14 and raise the no-slits-in-dress age to 20. I am also going to teach a class warning parents of the dangers of dresses with slits. Last week a boy broke his nose after he ran into a locker door because he was paying more attention to a girl with a slit in her skirt than where he was going.
how NOT to get a girl
I recommend, more like urge, guys to be be friends with as many girls as possible if you want to figure out how to get girls. You may not ever get with your girl-friends, but you will get valuable information on what NOT to do to get a girl. I was out the other night with some friends, most of them being girls, and they were telling me some of the things guys say to try and woo them. We've all heard the lines about being the most beautiful girl in the bar and about how much money you make, but I heard a new one. A guy walked up to one of the girls I was with and after having a short conversation slipped the girl his number and said, "Gimme a call sometime. I'm a hairstylist and I'll do your hair for free." I can think of a number of things that are wrong with that statement. The first thing being, and excuse me for generalizing, but most male "hairstylists" are gay. I know, I know, some of them aren't, but I would think telling a girl that you'll do her hair for free is as much an invitation for a gay friend as it is a pick-up line. She may call you, but it will have a whole lot to do with getting free hairdo's and less to do with your sparkling personality. Girls do stuff like that. If a girl would go out with a guy she has no interest in to get a free meal, imagine what she would do for a free coloring. Probably alot, but not what you're thinking. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with being a male hairstylest, or if you are one that you're gay, but I don't know if it's neccessarily a pick-up line. You may not want to mention that right off the bat unless it just comes up in conversation. If the hairstylest line is in your bag-o-lines, I think it is best that you remove it. You'll find yourself helping her shop for panties instead of getting in them.
March 26, 2007
incredible flesh eating super-virus
This happened a long time ago but I think you deserve to hear it. I was at work one day and a guy got a steak. When I brought it to him it was a little undercooked so I took it back to the kitchen to get it cooked-up. When I approached the table to make sure that everything else was ok he looked at me and said, "Man, did you see that steak? It was all pink in the middle. What, you tryin' to give me E-Boli or something." I know what E-Coli is. I know what Ebola is. But what the hell is E-Boli-some sort of super-virus? I thought that was funny.
There was another time when I told a woman about five times that our ribs were pork ribs and not beef ribs. When they went out to the table she felt like they were a little undercooked. She asked me to get her some others. She looked at me with a straight face and said, "I don't want to get MAD Cow Disease." I was amazed. It's called MAD (Cow) Disease, and yet I told her that they were pork ribs.
There are a few other questions that I just love. Like when I say, "our lobster tails are five ounces." and then I get, "How big is that"? Shit, I don't know. It's five ounces. I don't know any other way to describe it. Another good one is, "would you like the 7 ounce or the 9 ounce filet?" They I get, "What's the difference?" The funny thing is that I get both of those questions at least once or twice a week without fail.
There was another time when I told a woman about five times that our ribs were pork ribs and not beef ribs. When they went out to the table she felt like they were a little undercooked. She asked me to get her some others. She looked at me with a straight face and said, "I don't want to get MAD Cow Disease." I was amazed. It's called MAD (Cow) Disease, and yet I told her that they were pork ribs.
There are a few other questions that I just love. Like when I say, "our lobster tails are five ounces." and then I get, "How big is that"? Shit, I don't know. It's five ounces. I don't know any other way to describe it. Another good one is, "would you like the 7 ounce or the 9 ounce filet?" They I get, "What's the difference?" The funny thing is that I get both of those questions at least once or twice a week without fail.
"Go to hell, please."
People are funny. They think they can be rude to you as long as they say please afterwards. I was at work and I was in somebody's way, I guess. Instead of saying, "excuse me", or "can I get right there, please", they said, "GET THE HELL OUTTA MY WAY, PLEASE!!!!!!" Yelling doesn't really work for me-even if you say please. I'm a grown ass man. My Mom doesn't even yell at me, so why do you suppose I'm going to allow you to yell at me? It's not going to work. In fact, it's counteractive. If you yell at me it's only going to make me do the opposite of what you asked. Naturally, I didn't move at all. In fact, I got finished with what I was doing and stood there just to bother her. I just don't understand how you think you can yell at somebody and think they're going to do what you said because you finished the sentence with please.
March 16, 2007
booty to booty contact
I'm just going to keep it real. There is no reason, whether it be male to female, male to male, or female to female, for booty to booty contact. Have you ever been laying in bed with someone sans clothing and you're back to back and your booties touch? You probably have-and it probably gave you a cold chill down your spine. At least that's what it does to me. It's like the same feeling you get when you touch something that's wet and you don't know what it is. You almost cringe. It's not a homosexual thing, either. I don't mind my booty being touched. I think it's that the distinct texture and make-up of the booty skin is not meant to be touched by the distinct texture of another's booty skin. It's a tactile thing, I guess. Maybe it has something to do with the nerves or something. All I know is that feeling somebody elses booty rubbing up against mine gives me the no feeling.
fighting on the schoolbus
I thought this was a cool picture. I've always wanted to take a picture of wha't in my rearview mirror. It turns out that it was a schoolbus. That reminds me of the first fight I got into. i was on kind of a bully in middle school. I was on the bus flicking the ear of the guy in front of me. Eventually he got tired of it and ripped my shirt. This wasn't just a shirt. It was my nice shirt. I only had one, and it was Polo. We got off at the same stop and he saw the look on my face and took off running. I ran him down and gave him a pretty good whoopin' and sent him on his way. He walked down the street and told his sister what I did. His sister was one of those Goth girls. It was a little before the term Goth got big though. I didn't know what to think about her. I just knew that she had the potential to be a serial killer. She had black hair that contrasted her pasty complexion and a tattoo of a scarab on her ankle. I think she had just about every square inch of her ears pierced. The only thing she ever wore was black band t-shirts and she was also about four or five years older than me. Needless to say I was afriad of her. She said words to me that I may never forget. "If you ever touch my brother again I will cut you up with a chainsaw while you sleep." I never touched the kid again.
how's my driving?
I love these little signs on the backs of trucks. Do they really want you to call or is it just a disclaimer so that they dont' get in trouble? I bet you just get a recording or a machine. Sometimes I am tempted to call them just so I can make up some elaborate story as to how bad this person was driving. How much weight can my story really hold? It's not like they're going to fire the guy because I said he ran a red light?
BALLIN' (on a budget)
I don't know if you can see this in the picture, but as usual, my gastank is on empty. There's really no joke here. Honestly, I only put about ten dollars of gas in my tank at a time. The other day I told somebody that and they were telling me that it is more cost effective to fill your tank up all at once. See, the thing is, I don't have the money for that. I put in my tank what I can spare (and by spare I mean change). I've literally counted change to see how much gas I can put in my car.
I think I'm going to make a rap video. Instead of calling it Ballin' I think I'm going to call it Ballin' On a Budget. It's going to feature Bobby Brown and maybe Keith Murray (I know your remember him) and some other old-school down-on-their-luck rap stars. The video will be complete with four door coups and hatchbacks. Instead of Moet and Belvedere we're going to have those mini bottles of champagne, empty of course, and Popov Vodka in the indiscriminate glass bottle. Maybe we'll get the guy across the street to direct and produce it. I don't think he's ever filmed anything before, but he does have a pretty cool handicam.
there is a God
The fair Dogwood tree. Our beautiful state tree. I actually do think that they are really pretty-especially when they are in bloom. There is, however, one thing (and by one I mean a couple) that I can't stand about it. The Dogwood tree is by far one of the smelliest things I've ever. It has a very repugnant odor. It's kinda like a mix between sweaty socks and armpit. When you get a couple of them together it smells like a herd of skunks (I don't know if skunks really have herds). Horrible. Also, like most trees, they're only pretty for about half the year. The rest of the time it's just a conglomeration of dry sticks and twigs. In my mind, it's one of the ugliest trees when not in bloom. It's all skinny and dry-looking. Kinda sad. And last, but not least, is the fact that when these trees are in bloom they leave the little leaves strewn all over the place. They get on the ground, in your car, on your clothes and anywhere else you could possibly think of. It's a little overwhelming-especially since the tree is everywhere so you can't escape the little white bloomy-things.
This tree, to me, is the perfect example of how nothing is perfect and that there is a God. You can't have it all. So while dogwood trees are very pretty, they are also smelly, annoying and only good looking sometimes. It's kinda like having a girlfriend or boyfriend. Yes, Brad Pitt may be hot, but he may just have smelly breath. Salma Hayek may have ugly feet or something. You never know. Just be happy with yourself and what God gave you. You can't spell Dogwood withough God. Maybe this little tree is trying to tell us something. Haha.
March 05, 2007
URL pimpin'
You thought I was joking about MySpace pimping? I was at work and some guy at my table was asking me about a girl that I work with. I told him about her, and later on she went over and talked to him. When I went to the table to pick up the check he left a note on my check saying, "C. J., tell _____________ that it was nice meeting her and my URL is ______________. WOW. I guess I'm their relationship proxy now. Was he too scared to say that to ask her for her phone number? What can you learn from somebody's profile (a profile which is probably 75% false) that you can't learn through talking to them? What did people do before MySpace? They had game. They had guts. I hope that girl balled up that piece of paper and threw it in the trash. Do you really want to date somebody who is scared to ask you for your phone number? Do you want to date somebody through what you learned in their MySpace profile for that matter?
ridin' crazy
When driving in Atlanta you can throw all of that southern hospitality crap out of a fast moving car window-especially if it's raining. In Atlanta, rain gives you an excuse to drive like an asshole(more of an asshole than usual). It rained just about the entire day last Monday or Tuesday. I saw a car trying to get into the left lane from the right lane. Of course the person in the left lane woudln't let them in, so the other guy just went ahead and jumped in front of him. Not so much in front of, as into. The guy who got rammed just stopped in the middle of the street, stopping traffic in the left lane, and the woman in the other car pulled into an adjacent parking lot where she cussed, flailed and kicked while she looked at the damage to her car. I think she flipped him the bird from across the street too-as if the guy ran into her.
Later on that day I was driving down the street. It was still raining, and we all know that the laws of driving change in the rain. When it's raining you have to forget everything you leared since you were 16. I had a green light and some fool tried to turn left in front of me (you don't have to yield the right of way in the rain). Me and the driver in the car next to me stopped inches from hitting the crazy driver, who honked and cussed at as as if we stopped in the intersection to sightsee.
That brings me to my last point. I know you're mad when somebody cuts you off or runs a light, but I'm pretty sure that giving the bird or showing your mean face won't change it. People give you the bird because they know that there isn't anything you can do. In a perfect world you could stop your car and have a fight to the death in the intersection, but you can't-so they just give you the bird. I guess it gives them some sense of accomplishment. They go home and they say, "Honey, some asshole cut me off today." Honey says, "Awww baby. What'd you do?" "Well, I wanted to kick his ass but since I couldn't I just flipped him the bird and looked at him really mean. I sure showed him. He'll never do that again."
But the thing is...you don't know what kind of day that other person has had. You may be flipping off a crazy person, or somebody who is at the edge of snapping. You just pushed them over the edge. I hope they follow you and beat the crap out of you or slash your tires. Next time you'll think before you flip somebody off for something as small as cutting you off. Don't give me a mean face either. If you wanna pull into a parking lot and go, let's go, but if not then straighten your face and your Brooks Brothers tie and keep driving.
Labels:
crazy,
crazy driving,
driving in the rain,
flipping the bird,
mean face
February 25, 2007
denver the last dinosaur
I was talking to a friend today about how weird and corny some cartoons were when back in the day, and Denver the last Dinosaur came up. Denver took place in what we were supposed to believe was reality (modern day California or somewhere). Smurfs was weird, but it took place in Smurf village. The Snorks (I know you remember that) took place somewhere in the ocean or something like that. The reason Denver was so funny is because it was supposedly the real world. Are we supposed to believe that just because you put a Hawaiian shirt on a Brontosaurus it no longer looks like a Brontosaurus? That's funny to me.
February 21, 2007
"the sauce"
old peole are funny. I was talking to somebody today about words old people use. It's funny when old people try to use the new slang kids use today, but I think it's even funnier when they use their old slang. I was talking to a friend of mine (shoutout to Jenny Clark) today and her dad still says "the sauce" when referring to alcohol. "You been messin' with the sauce hadn'tya?" What in the hell is "the sauce"? It's not like the term silly sauce (referring to alcohol), which is definately self explanatory. I mean, is it hot sauce, worchesteshire sauce or bbq sauce? I'm guessing "the sauce" is just a shortening of "silly sauce". Wherever the term came from, I think somebody was on "the sauce" when they came up with the term "the sauce".
Another funny term old people use is "dope". I'm not talking about dope as in fly. I'm talking about "dope". Like marijana, weed, pot, cheeba, skunk, green, sticky-icky-icky, hydro, the oooooweeee, killa, hash, "the stuff", green-green, purple, the magic dragon, good-good, wacky tabacky, Presidential, green sticky, purp, that fire, sprinkle, Barney, herb, sticks, stems, Bill Clinton. But with old people it also refers to other drugs, such as cocaine, heroine and pretty much any other illegal substance you can think of. If anybody older than 40 or 45 asks if you've been "messin' with dope" you must first clarify what it is they're talking about. You don't want to get in trouble for drugs you're not actually doing. That makes it even funnier when they say "the dope". As if it only refers to one particular drug. They don't know that we know they're talking about a number of things when they say "the dope". I think that all the old people should put their heads together and decide what exactly it is they think "the dope" is.
Another funny term old people use is "dope". I'm not talking about dope as in fly. I'm talking about "dope". Like marijana, weed, pot, cheeba, skunk, green, sticky-icky-icky, hydro, the oooooweeee, killa, hash, "the stuff", green-green, purple, the magic dragon, good-good, wacky tabacky, Presidential, green sticky, purp, that fire, sprinkle, Barney, herb, sticks, stems, Bill Clinton. But with old people it also refers to other drugs, such as cocaine, heroine and pretty much any other illegal substance you can think of. If anybody older than 40 or 45 asks if you've been "messin' with dope" you must first clarify what it is they're talking about. You don't want to get in trouble for drugs you're not actually doing. That makes it even funnier when they say "the dope". As if it only refers to one particular drug. They don't know that we know they're talking about a number of things when they say "the dope". I think that all the old people should put their heads together and decide what exactly it is they think "the dope" is.
February 20, 2007
game of the future
It's official. MySpace and Facebook will be the death of game. No longer do guys have to ask girls for their phone numbers. They just ask for their URL's. You think I'm kidding? Here is a paraphrase of a conversation I heard the other day. "Hi. I think you're cute. Can I get your URL?" What the hell. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The worst part about the whole thing is that she said yes. She actually said yes. That was pretty much the end of the conversation. I would've liked to have read the message he sent to her. Not only do guys use it in lue of game, but when they are too scared to actually talk to a girl (I guess if you would ask a girl her URL you aren't much to talk to anyway-so it makes sense). If they find out her name, they just look it up on MySpace. They don't even have to bother worrying about whether or not she will give them her number or not-even though after you find her on MySpace and randomly message her, your chances of EVER getting her number greatly decrease. That's called stalking-and most girls don't appreciate that. Some guys seem to think it's being cool or something. I don't know, but it seems like it's the game (or lack there of) of the future.
short addendum (and by short I mean long) to restaurant biz
I failed to mention in my post before that my most hated pet peave is when people ask where there food is. I completely understand your concern and that you're hungry, but I promise your food is being cooked and is on the way. Most of the time when people ask, the food is about five minutes from coming out. I promise that I will bring it when it gets ready, and if something goes wrong in the process I will let you know. That way I don't have to hear you ask me dumb questions like, "where is our food?" One day I'm just going to say, "I don't know", or "Oh, it's ready. I was just waiting for you to come and get it." Also, this is not the time to crack corny jokes like, "did you have to kill the cow too", or "the food is slower than Christmas." I have heard them all before. You aren't the first person to tell those jokes, nor are you clever. Bottom line, I don't cook the food I serve it. I will bring it out as soon as it gets ready. Do you think I get some sort of kick out of your food being ready, yet not bringing it to you? I don't. I make money by making you happy and bringing your food promptly. If you didn't want to wait for a minute you should've gone to McDonalds where they serve FAST food. And please, don't try to get my manager and tell him the food is taking too long. Each time we ring up a ticket a time shows up on it so that people who claim they have been waiting for 30 minutes for their food can be put in their place. When you lie and say you've been waiting for thirty minutes we just go in the back, look at the ticket and then laugh at you. Don't try and pull this. We know the truth. I understand that you may be upset, but you're more likely to be met with a cordial response if you're nice about the situation. Ranting and raving about something that is untrue will get you nowhere. For those of you whose food does take a long time, your concerns will be met with our utmost sympathies and you will probably be given something free-which is probably what you wanted anyway.
February 18, 2007
scullies in the summertime
This is just something that has been on my mind for a while and now that I have this blog I can tell you about it. What's up with guys rockin' scullies in the summertime? Don't you realize that it's hot outside? It's not hot. It's literally hot. There is something so backwards about trying to look cool while looking so uncomfortable at the same time. The whole time they're thinking, "man I'm so hot, but I look so cool." No you don't. You just look hot. Your head is under that thing cussing you out. Another thing-take your sunglasses off inside. There is not a lick of sunshine inside. I really can't stand the glasses that have lenses that are bigger than your face. On girls it's ok sometimes, but guys, come on. Guys shouldn't be wearing glasses that are bigger than their face. And don't talk to me with sunglasses on. It's so disrespectful. Who do you think you are? Until you have a triple platinum album or are NFL MVP, you can't wear glasses inside. Who are you hiding from? Are you trying to be incognito? Nobody cares who you are or what you're doing so you can take your glasses off. It's ok.
disney characters vs. cereal characters
I noticed the other day how there are no african-americans in Disney movies. It's kinda sad. Unless you count Aladdin and The Little Mermaid, there are no minorities in the movies. I started thinking about why and then I figured it out. It's because we have all the cereal characters. Let's start with Diggem the frog of Sugar Smacks fame. He is definately black. He's so hip. Always saying, 'digem, digem." He wears his hat flipped up a la Wesley Snipes in White Men Can't Jump. I think he's even wearing red high tops. Sugar Bear from Golden Crisp cereal is definately black. Just listen to his voice. So silky soft. He's smooth. If he were a real person he'd probably be Billy D. Williams. I may catch hell for this one, but Tony the Tiger is black. There's just something about him. The bee from Honey Nut Cheerios...? Definately white. But Count Chocula, as you would expect, is definately black. He may, however, have a thing for white girls. Toucan Sam is black. He may also be gay, but that's another story. The Cocoa Puffs bird is black. He may be a crackhead, but he's black. Obviously Snap, Crackle and Pop and the Leprechaun are white, but I have a sneaky suspicion that the Trix rabbit, while not completely black, may be mixed. Unfortunately, the Cookie Crisp guys are black. Why do we always have to be running from the law? The jury is still out on Cap'n Crunch and the Honey Combs monster, but I will get back to you on those. So, while there may not be any African Americans on Disney, we do have the cereal game on lockdown.
restaurant biz
Ok. I work at a restaurant, so I'm going to vent a little bit here. I have a couple of things I need to get off of my chest. First. I only make 2.13/hr. I make money from your tips. I understand if you don't want to tip me. You don't have to-but if I give you great service I would appreciate it if you tipped me based upon that and not the fact that you had a bad day at work or you're just pissed off. I am a very versatile man. If you want ten per cent service I can give it to you. If you want 20 per cent service I can do that too. I think you should have to quote your tip before you sit down. That way I know exactly what it is you want and I can better serve your needs as well as mine. This is not a bad thing either. Believe me, every now and then I want a break, and the five to ten per cent quoter would be welcomed, but don't ask for twenty per cent service and tip five.
Second. Bread is NOT an appetizer. I will bring it no matter what. As such, don't ask for it. It's coming.
Also. Fellas, sometimes ordering for your girl is a nice gesture. Very sweet if you're trying to earn some booty points, but at least know what she wants. I mean, if you're ordering for her but don't really know what she wants then somebody is not needed. We shouldn't have to play telephone with her order. You remember the old game you used to play in elementary school? By the time the order gets down to me it's all screwed up. Why not cut out the middle man and let her order for herself?
Another thing. While it may be hard to believe, you ARE NOT my only customer. My job title is waiter, not bitch. I will get your katsup, mustard, pickles, baked potato or whatever it is you want as soon as I can. I promise. Along those same lines-get all that stuff together at once. When I ask you if you want anything else don't just say no arbitrarily. Just because you don't want anything doesn't mean that nobody else does. Little Billy or young Janie may want some katsup. Ask them so that I don't have to make five different trips when I could've done it all at once.
And do you let your kids throw food on the floor or the table at home? Why do you let them do it at a restaurant? Somebody has to clean that up.
Also, and maybe I'm just old fashioned, but take your hat off when you're inside. It's not cold and your hat isn't that cool. Just take it off.
Don't tell me you're ready to order when you're not, or if you are but everybody else isn't. Having me stand there while you look over the menu two or three times isn't doing me any favors. I'll come back when you're ready.
If I'm going to be your server you have to talk to me. Please, please, please don't point to the menu when ordering. I can see the picture, but I'd rather you speak. Use your words. It's easier. While using your words, speak up. I don't understand whispering or mumbling. I'm just going to start doing it back. If you mumble I'm going to mumble to you. If you whisper I'm going to whisper to you. See how you like it.
It's my job to bring what you ordered. I know what you orderd and you should too. Don't tell me you ordered steak when you ordered fish. I'm not trying to play a crazy trick on you by not bringing you what you asked for. Haha I'll get them. They ordered steak, but I'm going to give them chicken. I wouldn't make any money like that.
One of my most hated pet peaves is coming in late. If we close at 11 and you come in at 10:55 I'm not going to be happy, and you can't expect me to be, nor can you expect great service. I'm trying to go home. Think about it like this. What if I came in at 4:50 to get my taxes done, or 3:55 to make a deposit at the bank. It sucks doesn't it?
Lastly, a word to the verbal tippers. Save it. While I really appreciate your thanks and praise, I wish you would show it monetarily.
I guess that's it. I'm off my soap box. So you're saying to yourself, "he's bitter", or "if he doesn't like it why doesn't he just quit." I have answers to those questions. Am I bitter? No. Well, I won't lie. Every server is bitter, but only because of the way we are treated. Not because we hate life or anything. Why don't I quit? Honestly, it's the best money I can make for the time you put in, and it's easy. If you know how to deal with people (sell yourself) and you treat people how you would want to be treated it's pretty easy. Even when you're not making a lot of money, it's more than you had when you came in. And you leave with cash in hand.
Second. Bread is NOT an appetizer. I will bring it no matter what. As such, don't ask for it. It's coming.
Also. Fellas, sometimes ordering for your girl is a nice gesture. Very sweet if you're trying to earn some booty points, but at least know what she wants. I mean, if you're ordering for her but don't really know what she wants then somebody is not needed. We shouldn't have to play telephone with her order. You remember the old game you used to play in elementary school? By the time the order gets down to me it's all screwed up. Why not cut out the middle man and let her order for herself?
Another thing. While it may be hard to believe, you ARE NOT my only customer. My job title is waiter, not bitch. I will get your katsup, mustard, pickles, baked potato or whatever it is you want as soon as I can. I promise. Along those same lines-get all that stuff together at once. When I ask you if you want anything else don't just say no arbitrarily. Just because you don't want anything doesn't mean that nobody else does. Little Billy or young Janie may want some katsup. Ask them so that I don't have to make five different trips when I could've done it all at once.
And do you let your kids throw food on the floor or the table at home? Why do you let them do it at a restaurant? Somebody has to clean that up.
Also, and maybe I'm just old fashioned, but take your hat off when you're inside. It's not cold and your hat isn't that cool. Just take it off.
Don't tell me you're ready to order when you're not, or if you are but everybody else isn't. Having me stand there while you look over the menu two or three times isn't doing me any favors. I'll come back when you're ready.
If I'm going to be your server you have to talk to me. Please, please, please don't point to the menu when ordering. I can see the picture, but I'd rather you speak. Use your words. It's easier. While using your words, speak up. I don't understand whispering or mumbling. I'm just going to start doing it back. If you mumble I'm going to mumble to you. If you whisper I'm going to whisper to you. See how you like it.
It's my job to bring what you ordered. I know what you orderd and you should too. Don't tell me you ordered steak when you ordered fish. I'm not trying to play a crazy trick on you by not bringing you what you asked for. Haha I'll get them. They ordered steak, but I'm going to give them chicken. I wouldn't make any money like that.
One of my most hated pet peaves is coming in late. If we close at 11 and you come in at 10:55 I'm not going to be happy, and you can't expect me to be, nor can you expect great service. I'm trying to go home. Think about it like this. What if I came in at 4:50 to get my taxes done, or 3:55 to make a deposit at the bank. It sucks doesn't it?
Lastly, a word to the verbal tippers. Save it. While I really appreciate your thanks and praise, I wish you would show it monetarily.
I guess that's it. I'm off my soap box. So you're saying to yourself, "he's bitter", or "if he doesn't like it why doesn't he just quit." I have answers to those questions. Am I bitter? No. Well, I won't lie. Every server is bitter, but only because of the way we are treated. Not because we hate life or anything. Why don't I quit? Honestly, it's the best money I can make for the time you put in, and it's easy. If you know how to deal with people (sell yourself) and you treat people how you would want to be treated it's pretty easy. Even when you're not making a lot of money, it's more than you had when you came in. And you leave with cash in hand.
February 15, 2007
tickets
The other day I got a ticket. As always, they are doing some roadwork in the city. I think they're putting in sewer pipes or something-so there's about a two mile radius where you are can't make a left-hand turn. I was going down the street to get something to eat and I had to turn around, but I couldn't make a left. I figured if I go down the street a little it would be fine and I could turn around. Apparently not. I got into what should've been the turn lane and some lady coming the other way honked at me. I didn't even think about it and made the left turn. I pulled up to the light to turn right onto the same street and a police officer knocked on my window. He said, "Son, how long have you been driving?" I just smiled. What are you supposed to say? Is he serious? Am I supposed to get out my calculator? Do I say 8 years, or should I be sarcastic? Then he asked me if I knew I couldn't turn left-like I'm going to say yes. I'm going to say no even if I did see the sign. Maybe I should've said yes to throw him off. I don't know. Then he asked, "Do you want me to give you a citation?" Who the hell says citation, and where did he get that line from-Asshole: Your Guide to Being A State Trooper? I mean, I guess it all depends. If I say no, are you not going to give me one? Does my response even matter? I should've said, "Well officer, I was thinking this morning that it has been an awful long time since my last ticket and I would actually love a citation." It's like they're begging you to do something stupid so they can beat you up or take you to jail. Then he took 30 mintues to write the ticket-as about five other people turned left onto the same street. I think one even turned left, stopped to ask him for directions and turned around. I was just supposed to get a ticket that day, I guess. For all of the other stuff I do, and don't get caught for, I can't complain. Not that you ever need a ticket, but you always seem to get them when you don't have any money and you have a vacation planned for the court date. Oh well, we'll see what happens. Until then I'm going to go to Borders and get Sarcasm: Your Guide To Answering Stupid Questions from Asshole Cops.
Model-T
This antique car reminded me of the time when I was Henry Ford for a school play/presentation thingy. One Christmas I got a plastic Model-T Ford that would spit out smoke while it spun around in circles and bounced off things. I was all excited that I got Henry Ford because I knew my car was going to be a hit (haha no pun intended). No, really, I didn't do that on purpose. Anyway, I got the thing to school and one of the little crumb snatchers broke my car. It was all good though because I looked tight in my dad's suit that was too big. If I can find the pictures from that day I'll post them. I was very funny looking. I didn't have a suit so I had to wear my dad's. My mom woke me up all early to put the suit on because she had to pin it so that it fit. It looked like the suit was made of safety pins when she got finished, but I sure was handsome.
Labels:
antique car,
model-t,
safety-pin suit,
tin lizzy
business watch
camera at the light
I'm getting pretty good at the taking a picture while driving thing. Maybe that's not such a good idea when there is a camera at just about every other stop light in Atlanta-even though I think some of them are just up but not taking pictures. They're trying to scare you. I got two at the same light in the same day when they first started the whole thing. It takes a snapshot of your license plate as you roll through the red light. Once you get a ticket or two you pretty much know where they are. It's not even neccessarily a deterrent because from what I hear all you have to do is go into court and say that it wasn't you driving the car. They take a picture of the license plate, not the driver. So if they can't prove you were driving, how can they give you a ticket? I don't know how true this is because I just went ahead and paid my ticket. It sounds feasible-but I'm not a lawyer and neither is the person who told me this. Everybody thinks they're a lawyer though.
banana splits, or something else????
skyline
Ahhhhh. Exit 86 on 85 South. I get off on this exit everyday on my way to school and everyday I think to myself, "the skyline looks pretty cool here." That's pretty much it. Well today I was thinking, "please help me not to run my car off this bridge because I'm trying to take a picture." Not too bad though for a en route phote. The skyline looks even better on days where you can see the sun shining through. It was a little dreary today. I think it was about 40 degrees-which to me is cold even though I went to school in Ohio. It was pretty warm last week. I think it was in the 60's most of the week. I know it makes you yankees mad when we say that 40 is cold, but in the summer you think 90 with no humidity is hot. Why don't you try jumping out of the shower and immediately sweating again-now that's hot.
baby in a bag foolishness
I was in the mall today and as I was walking out I noticed something funny on the little strollers that parents can rent to put their children in. There is a little mesh bag on the back of them that you can put little 'what not's' in if you don't have a purse or something I guess. On this bag is printed "please don't put children in bag". This was funny to me because I thought to myself, who the hell would put their child in a mesh bag when obviously the thing has a seat that just so happens to be child-shaped. As I was thinking about it it hit me. Somebody has actually done this. See, there is no personal responsibility in American society. You drink coffee that is obviously hot and burn yourself, you can sue. You eat a hamburger everyday and have a heart attack, you can sue. You smoke cigarettes and get cancer, you can sue. Basically, somebody put their child in the mesh bag of this stroller, something happend to the child and then somebody sued. Crazy. The company who makes these stroller-things was forced to put this tag onto the stroller sacks to keep crazy people from suing them. Funny. What the sign should say is "you can put your kid in this bag if you feel like it, but don't come running to us when something bad happens."
January 12, 2007
The gameplan
Ok. So I'm kinda new at this whole blog thing, but here's what I'm gonna try to do. I'm going to try and take a picture everyday and write about it. Why I took the picture, what I was thinking, how it made me feel, etc etc. Being as though I am fairly lazy, it may not exactly work out that way. I'm also pretty ADD and very scatter-brained so it may make for some pretty interesting posts. All in all, I may say something that is at least halfway intelligent and you'll enjoy it. If not, that's ok too. Just don't come back. Hopefully you'll come back though. Here we go.
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