I'm sitting at my desk with my UPS window open getting ready to create the days shipments. Just for fun, I decided to see how much it would cost to overnight myself to my buddy in Cincinnati. It would have to be overnight. I'm not sitting in a box for 2 days. I plug in her address, the dimensions of the box that I would fit in and my weight. Usually when you hit 'tab' after entering this data it shows you your shipping cost. Not today. This time a little box popped up saying "This shipment is over 150lbs. Would you like to use UPS Freight?" I am a FREIGHT shipment. F.M.L. This is where the sheer size of my ass has finally hit home. I am SO fat, that in order to ship me somewhere, I would have to be shrink wrapped, put on a fucking pallet and loaded WITH A FORKLIFT onto an 18 wheeler. Losing 35 pounds would be nice, but after today I just want to be eligible for parcel service. Packaging included.
*sigh*.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Trees
I'm an Alabama fan. I don't hate Auburn, it's alumni, football team or school. I silently rooted for them in the championship game because even though we are rivals, they are still in the SEC and from the great state of Alabama. Did I wish it was us? Sure. But you can't be National Champions EVERY year.
As much as I love Fall Saturdays, I had to stay off Facebook on gameday because fans on both ends are just too hateful and obnoxious for me tolerate. I'm not talking about WDE! or RTR!! That' cool. It's the, "What up now you bammers?" or "SCAM Newton!" EVERY WEEKEND even though we play each other ONCE. I could lower myself to their levels and sling a lot of shit in response, even right now, but I'm not going too. Because I have class (go ahead and chuckle while you give me the wicked side eye...I am a classy FOOTBALL FAN...I didn't say shit about having class while I was posting profanity laden rants on the internet). The latest development that I'm sure will ignite some hideous turf war concerns the poisoning of the Toomer's Corner Oaks. This is an unspeakable act of vandalism. Those tree's are 130 years old and whether they are on Dauphin Street or Auburn's campus, killing one is just a fucktardian thing to do. It pisses me off to see them taken down no matter where they are planted. It's not like they are statues that can be reproduced. They have to grow over 100's of years.
I understand the Auburn fans are outraged. They have a right to be. I wish like hell it woulda been an LSU fan (or ANYbody else) who did the deed, but it wasn't. Mr. Tree Killer is a self-proclaimed member of Saban-nation. Well, sir, you may be a fan of Alabama, but Alabama is not a fan of you. I hope he gets the book thrown at him. So far he's only been charged with criminal mischief but hopefully some violation of environmental law lands him in hotter water.
Now that I have proclaimed my sincerest condolences to the CLASSY Auburn fans who know that this jack off wasn't your run of the mill Bama Fan, let the rant begin.
To you douchehole asshat classless Auburn fans that have taken over my facebook page....FUCK YOUR TREES. That's right. If you weren't such a bunch of whiny dickholes spewing hate towards ALL Alabama fans I'd have some sympathy for you and your precious traditions. But since you have to post link after link of news stories about this and then dig up even MORE news stories of other Alabama fans being pricks over the years in a ridiculous attempt to try and paint all of us in a shitty light...fuck you. You think Auburn doesn't have any fucking skeletons in its closet? Ha. But I'm not going to waste my time digging up every article of negative press *cough* scam *cough* you've received. We all know what they are. That guy that killed your stupid trees....he's a white trash redneck from TEXAS for God's sake. He's not like me or any fucking other bama fan I know so I don't appreciate your little "Hope you're proud you Bammers" comments. Fuck you. Of course we aren't proud of that dick. We aren't like YOU. Who stand behind CRIMINALS just because they wear the same fucking ugly jersey.
To my dearest friends who happen to be Auburn fans, I hope you understand that this isn't toward you. This is toward your less than stellar fan mates who have obviously struck quite a nerve with me. I'm sorry about your trees.
xo
B
As much as I love Fall Saturdays, I had to stay off Facebook on gameday because fans on both ends are just too hateful and obnoxious for me tolerate. I'm not talking about WDE! or RTR!! That' cool. It's the, "What up now you bammers?" or "SCAM Newton!" EVERY WEEKEND even though we play each other ONCE. I could lower myself to their levels and sling a lot of shit in response, even right now, but I'm not going too. Because I have class (go ahead and chuckle while you give me the wicked side eye...I am a classy FOOTBALL FAN...I didn't say shit about having class while I was posting profanity laden rants on the internet). The latest development that I'm sure will ignite some hideous turf war concerns the poisoning of the Toomer's Corner Oaks. This is an unspeakable act of vandalism. Those tree's are 130 years old and whether they are on Dauphin Street or Auburn's campus, killing one is just a fucktardian thing to do. It pisses me off to see them taken down no matter where they are planted. It's not like they are statues that can be reproduced. They have to grow over 100's of years.
I understand the Auburn fans are outraged. They have a right to be. I wish like hell it woulda been an LSU fan (or ANYbody else) who did the deed, but it wasn't. Mr. Tree Killer is a self-proclaimed member of Saban-nation. Well, sir, you may be a fan of Alabama, but Alabama is not a fan of you. I hope he gets the book thrown at him. So far he's only been charged with criminal mischief but hopefully some violation of environmental law lands him in hotter water.
Now that I have proclaimed my sincerest condolences to the CLASSY Auburn fans who know that this jack off wasn't your run of the mill Bama Fan, let the rant begin.
To you douchehole asshat classless Auburn fans that have taken over my facebook page....FUCK YOUR TREES. That's right. If you weren't such a bunch of whiny dickholes spewing hate towards ALL Alabama fans I'd have some sympathy for you and your precious traditions. But since you have to post link after link of news stories about this and then dig up even MORE news stories of other Alabama fans being pricks over the years in a ridiculous attempt to try and paint all of us in a shitty light...fuck you. You think Auburn doesn't have any fucking skeletons in its closet? Ha. But I'm not going to waste my time digging up every article of negative press *cough* scam *cough* you've received. We all know what they are. That guy that killed your stupid trees....he's a white trash redneck from TEXAS for God's sake. He's not like me or any fucking other bama fan I know so I don't appreciate your little "Hope you're proud you Bammers" comments. Fuck you. Of course we aren't proud of that dick. We aren't like YOU. Who stand behind CRIMINALS just because they wear the same fucking ugly jersey.
To my dearest friends who happen to be Auburn fans, I hope you understand that this isn't toward you. This is toward your less than stellar fan mates who have obviously struck quite a nerve with me. I'm sorry about your trees.
xo
B
At the Movies
I hate going to the movies. Aside from it costing entirely too much money and the high probability the movie will suck, its just one more place I have to tolerate stupid fucking people. I want to take this list and put it on the screen in every theatre before EVERY movie. And I want bouncers. I want a bouncer with a remote that can pause the movie and physically remove the douches from the theatre and then resume the movie so nobody misses anything AND we can pay attention to the asshole getting schooled to get even more entertainment for the money. Every time I go to the movies it costs me 15-20 dollars. That's a matinee by myself. That's not date night with the hubs. Then your looking more at 35-40. For that kind of money you'd better not destroy my experience by committing one or more of the following offenses.
1. Shut the fuck up. This should be a given. Don't you open your fucking mouth. If I can hear you, I should be able to punch you in the teeth. If you want to carry on a conversation go to a fucking restaurant.
2. This also includes talking on the phone. Which is worse because you can't whisper. Go outside you asshole.
3. Another thing about the phone. Turn that fucking thing on silent. Not vibrate....silent. I don't want to hear buzz buzz from your purse and then the subsequent rustling of you trying to find the damn thing in the dark in that giant effing bag you brought (full of food no less).
4. There are etiquette settings on phones for a reason. In addition to silent, you need to turn the light to dim. I don't want the equivalent of 40 fucking flashlights distracting me from the screen. The only light I need to see is the Mag light the above referenced bouncer is carrying to shine on you before whacking you in the cranium with it. Movie paused first of course.
5. You are not at home. Keep your dirty ass shoes ON your stinky ass feet and OFF the back of my chair.
6. Move down to make room. If there are 3 couples in a row with a chair between each couple you're being an inconsiderate douche if you don't scooch down when you see two people looking for seats in a crowded theatre.
7. Go ahead and bring a snack. I do it. We all do it. I bring a bottled water and m&m's to put in my popcorn. DO NOT bring fried chicken, soup, potato salad and lima beans or anything that is a giant bag full of something crunchy and impossible to eat without sounding like a cellophane cow with steel teeth chewing glass and nails. PLEASE.
8. Try to keep the commentary to a minimum...or to a none....whatever. We might jump, even shriek when there is a terrifying scene in a movie. But screaming out loud, shouting OMG!, or "Oh no she didn't!" "Don't go in there!" "Hes behind the door!" Shut. The. Fuck. Up. or stay home you ignorant retard.
9. Kids. KIDS. I love my kid....but I'm not taking him to the movies. Why? Because I can't keep him quiet and still for 2 hours. And if you can't either....get a fucking sitter. I've seen people bring a tiny itty bitty baby in a carrier to the theatre. What the fuck? Its WAY to loud for them. Get a fucking baby sitter for Christ's sake. That goes for toddlers and any kid under 12. If you HAVE to bring them, only bring them to CHILD friendly movies. A 6 year old fucking up Eclipse is unacceptable. Take that trick to see Kung fu Panda or some other age appropriate shit. As for kids over 12....they all suck and are evil little Satan spawn. Please try to teach them how to behave before you turn them loose in a theatre unsupervised. If not, I hope they come home with a mag light knot on their little pointy heads. Next time you will get off your sorry ass and be a PARENT and go to the movies to police their forever inconsiderate behavior. Douche.
10. Kids suck...yeah...but adults are pretty much worse because there is NO excuse for their behavior. They've been raised by somebody I assume is not a wolf who didn't live in a barn and should know how to behave in public and cannot blame youth or hormones. So my final rule...if you have a bladder problem, are expecting a call, or are fat enough to need 3 refills on coke and popcorn, don't sit in the middle of the theatre. Sit on the edge, at the bottom, so when you get up for the 9th time you don't disturb everybody. That seat sucks? Well, so do you....so it fits.
Dear Powersthatbe. Please feel free to steal the above list and post it EVERYWHERE in your theatre...screen included.
Thanks a bunch
Sincerely,
A cheap person with low tolerance for other people's bullshit
1. Shut the fuck up. This should be a given. Don't you open your fucking mouth. If I can hear you, I should be able to punch you in the teeth. If you want to carry on a conversation go to a fucking restaurant.
2. This also includes talking on the phone. Which is worse because you can't whisper. Go outside you asshole.
3. Another thing about the phone. Turn that fucking thing on silent. Not vibrate....silent. I don't want to hear buzz buzz from your purse and then the subsequent rustling of you trying to find the damn thing in the dark in that giant effing bag you brought (full of food no less).
4. There are etiquette settings on phones for a reason. In addition to silent, you need to turn the light to dim. I don't want the equivalent of 40 fucking flashlights distracting me from the screen. The only light I need to see is the Mag light the above referenced bouncer is carrying to shine on you before whacking you in the cranium with it. Movie paused first of course.
5. You are not at home. Keep your dirty ass shoes ON your stinky ass feet and OFF the back of my chair.
6. Move down to make room. If there are 3 couples in a row with a chair between each couple you're being an inconsiderate douche if you don't scooch down when you see two people looking for seats in a crowded theatre.
7. Go ahead and bring a snack. I do it. We all do it. I bring a bottled water and m&m's to put in my popcorn. DO NOT bring fried chicken, soup, potato salad and lima beans or anything that is a giant bag full of something crunchy and impossible to eat without sounding like a cellophane cow with steel teeth chewing glass and nails. PLEASE.
8. Try to keep the commentary to a minimum...or to a none....whatever. We might jump, even shriek when there is a terrifying scene in a movie. But screaming out loud, shouting OMG!, or "Oh no she didn't!" "Don't go in there!" "Hes behind the door!" Shut. The. Fuck. Up. or stay home you ignorant retard.
9. Kids. KIDS. I love my kid....but I'm not taking him to the movies. Why? Because I can't keep him quiet and still for 2 hours. And if you can't either....get a fucking sitter. I've seen people bring a tiny itty bitty baby in a carrier to the theatre. What the fuck? Its WAY to loud for them. Get a fucking baby sitter for Christ's sake. That goes for toddlers and any kid under 12. If you HAVE to bring them, only bring them to CHILD friendly movies. A 6 year old fucking up Eclipse is unacceptable. Take that trick to see Kung fu Panda or some other age appropriate shit. As for kids over 12....they all suck and are evil little Satan spawn. Please try to teach them how to behave before you turn them loose in a theatre unsupervised. If not, I hope they come home with a mag light knot on their little pointy heads. Next time you will get off your sorry ass and be a PARENT and go to the movies to police their forever inconsiderate behavior. Douche.
10. Kids suck...yeah...but adults are pretty much worse because there is NO excuse for their behavior. They've been raised by somebody I assume is not a wolf who didn't live in a barn and should know how to behave in public and cannot blame youth or hormones. So my final rule...if you have a bladder problem, are expecting a call, or are fat enough to need 3 refills on coke and popcorn, don't sit in the middle of the theatre. Sit on the edge, at the bottom, so when you get up for the 9th time you don't disturb everybody. That seat sucks? Well, so do you....so it fits.
Dear Powersthatbe. Please feel free to steal the above list and post it EVERYWHERE in your theatre...screen included.
Thanks a bunch
Sincerely,
A cheap person with low tolerance for other people's bullshit
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Pete's Party Castle would be AWESOME if it weren't for Crap Parents
Ahh Pete's. I love Pete's. It's been cold and ugly outside for what seems like 14 forevers so it's nice to have somewhere to take the youngin' where he can expel some of his infinite energy and get some pizza. He's not big enough to get in the big kid castle climb-y tower-y thing yet. Which I learned by going in there WITH him like a super mommy MORON. I had so many bruises on my legs after leaving that thing I looked like a Russian whore. Needless to say, he has to stay in the soft play area now. I get a table right next to it and when I'm not standing over him policing him, I'm sitting at the table watching his every move. Why? Because Pete's play area may be closed off and locked, but it's not a cage for people to just toss their kids in while the parents enjoy a break and can come back and get them whenever the hell they feel like it. All the kids that work there are teenagers (talk about genius birth control...they should all spend a semester doing work credit there), not zookeepers, and their jobs are to exchange tickets for cheap prizes, stop and start the choo choo train and bring out pizza. NOT to babysit YOUR kids. Parents have gotten LAZY. It's ridiculous. Let me share the tale of the satan child from our last visit.
My buddy Liz and I, with our 2 year old boys, arrive at Pete's on a cold rainy Friday evening. We order our pizza, grab our usual table and cut the boys loose in the soft play area. They get bored in 3 minutes so we switch to the choo choo train, then back to soft play, then 5 minutes later to the little ride on...things. You know what I'm talking about. Stick a quarter in it and the what-appears-to-be-plastic three-horse carousel spins for about 45 seconds? This is where we first encountered 'him'. 'He', who shall be referred to as Lucifer from here on out, was already on the carousel. It wasn't moving. He was just sitting on the horse. Kinda sad. He was a cute little thing. Maybe 4. Curly blond hair and a dimpled precious face. But looks can be deceiving. We put our boys on the two free horses and Liz dropped in a couple tokens. Off they went, Liz standing on one side, me on the other, just in case one of the boys gets squirrely and tries to dive off. On about the 3rd pass, Lucifer reaches out and grabs a handful of my tshirt and holds on, either dragging me with the carousel or dragging him off. I grabbed his hand, pulled it away and sweetly asked him to please not grab my shirt. Next time around, he does it again. I grab his hand and tell him no and back close to the wall in an effort to get out of his reach. Didn't work. This time he got my purse and held on. I smacked his hand and told him NO. I was getting pissed. This little bastard is already getting a free ride and WHERE ARE HIS PARENTS? Finally the carousel of death stops spinning and this kid runs off....for a minute. Our boys want to go again so we drop some tokens in and go back to our posts. Some man walks up with his little girl, maybe 18 months old, and puts her on the empty horse. Which annoyed me at first, but then he tossed Liz a couple tokens. I know its stupid to seethe over 50 cents but it's the principal that you can't just assume people will be okay paying for your kid. Nothing is free. Anyway. Halfway through this ride, the little girls dad has walked off and Lucifer is back. He starts mashing buttons on the thing you put quarters in and is generally all up on Liz. Liz is incredibly more tolerant of other people's bullshit than I am. I already want to ring the little bastards neck. Then he comes around to where I'm standing and goes to grab Liz's son's pants leg, almost pulling him off and under the damn carousel while it's spinning. I snatched him by his arm and shoved him away. He goes back for more, this time trying to climb on it while it's turning. I grabbed him again and drug him out from behind and away from the carousel and LOUDLY asked who in the HELL this kid belonged to? Nobody answers. He scampers off. Thank God. I later saw his mother. White trash, bra-less, toothless, fried hair, socks and flip flops wearing cow. Dad had less hair but the same amount of teeth and was ALSO sporting socks with sandals. They were stuffing their faces while their devil spawn terrorized the whole place. Assholes. A few minutes later, I take my boy into the small arcade with games for the little kids and try to win him an animal out of the crane machine. He is standing next to me, behaving himself and watching the crane take my money, when here comes Lucifer again, knocking him out of the way and jumping up and down pointing at what animal HE wants and thinks he's getting. I shove him away and pick my kid up off the floor and head back to the table where we all enjoy our pizza in peace. After they eat, the boys go back to the soft area and here comes Lucifer AGAIN. This time he wraps his hands around some kids throat (thankfully not my kid or I'd be writing this blog on a prison wall) and his fat ass momma FINALLY steps in. She proceeds to wrap her hands around HIS neck and explain that this is just how you deal with him because he's autistic. Um. What? If he's autistic I'm mickey fucking mouse. He's just BAD. He looked me dead in my face and tried to interact with me. That's not autism. He doesn't need meds. He needs his little ass whipped. But I'm not a doctor so I guess I could be entirely wrong. He could in fact have autism on some scale. In which case, I'm the jackhole that strong armed a special kid. But in my defense...if your kid has a diagnosed disorder and behavioral problems...what the FUCK are you doing turning him loose in a place like that?? And you can't blame it ALL on autism. I know PLENTY of autistic children that are sweet and well behaved because their parents put in the effort. Further proof people need to pass a battery of tests before they should be able to procreate.
That was just ONE visit and ONE kid. When we had a birthday party there, the offenses heaped upon us were numerous. And ALL because people don't watch their kids. We had two children we didn't even know come sit down in a chair in the private party room and ask for a cupcake. I told them to leave. I'm sorry. I'm a hateful, brutally honest, dream crusher and children are not spared. These brats are too damn sensitive these days. Everybody gets picked, everybody gets a trophy, everybody gets invited and gets a cupcake. Nope. Sorry. If you suck you don't make the team, if you lose you don't get a trophy, if you didn't get invited, tough shit and no you don't get a cupcake from SOMEBODY ELSE'S BIRTHDAY. It's amazing! The soft play area is for little kids (under 3 ft) only, yet there are always some 7-10 year old kids in there terrorizing the little ones and knocking them down. Nobody knows how to wait their turn. The kids have NO manners and listen to NOBODY. If you ask them to do something, the holler "YOUR NOT MY MOMMA!!" When we were kids, if an adult told you to do something, you said yes ma'am/sir and DID it. Period. My momma would've whooped my ASS had I smarted off to an adult. But times have clearly changed. Kids will be kids so parents need to step it up. I know you're busy. We're all busy. We all have work and households to run, family obligations, sports, girl/boy scouts, music lessons, errands and LIFE in general. We're all over worked, underpaid and stressed the hell out. That doesn't mean you get to slack ass on the parenting and leave it up to daycare, teachers, lifeguards and park/playground/Pete's/Chuckie Cheese employees. You need to teach your little demon howler monkeys to behave in public so I don't feel like every time I go to an event geared towards children I've been transported to a real life Lord of the Flies. This madness HAS to stop and it starts at home.
My buddy Liz and I, with our 2 year old boys, arrive at Pete's on a cold rainy Friday evening. We order our pizza, grab our usual table and cut the boys loose in the soft play area. They get bored in 3 minutes so we switch to the choo choo train, then back to soft play, then 5 minutes later to the little ride on...things. You know what I'm talking about. Stick a quarter in it and the what-appears-to-be-plastic three-horse carousel spins for about 45 seconds? This is where we first encountered 'him'. 'He', who shall be referred to as Lucifer from here on out, was already on the carousel. It wasn't moving. He was just sitting on the horse. Kinda sad. He was a cute little thing. Maybe 4. Curly blond hair and a dimpled precious face. But looks can be deceiving. We put our boys on the two free horses and Liz dropped in a couple tokens. Off they went, Liz standing on one side, me on the other, just in case one of the boys gets squirrely and tries to dive off. On about the 3rd pass, Lucifer reaches out and grabs a handful of my tshirt and holds on, either dragging me with the carousel or dragging him off. I grabbed his hand, pulled it away and sweetly asked him to please not grab my shirt. Next time around, he does it again. I grab his hand and tell him no and back close to the wall in an effort to get out of his reach. Didn't work. This time he got my purse and held on. I smacked his hand and told him NO. I was getting pissed. This little bastard is already getting a free ride and WHERE ARE HIS PARENTS? Finally the carousel of death stops spinning and this kid runs off....for a minute. Our boys want to go again so we drop some tokens in and go back to our posts. Some man walks up with his little girl, maybe 18 months old, and puts her on the empty horse. Which annoyed me at first, but then he tossed Liz a couple tokens. I know its stupid to seethe over 50 cents but it's the principal that you can't just assume people will be okay paying for your kid. Nothing is free. Anyway. Halfway through this ride, the little girls dad has walked off and Lucifer is back. He starts mashing buttons on the thing you put quarters in and is generally all up on Liz. Liz is incredibly more tolerant of other people's bullshit than I am. I already want to ring the little bastards neck. Then he comes around to where I'm standing and goes to grab Liz's son's pants leg, almost pulling him off and under the damn carousel while it's spinning. I snatched him by his arm and shoved him away. He goes back for more, this time trying to climb on it while it's turning. I grabbed him again and drug him out from behind and away from the carousel and LOUDLY asked who in the HELL this kid belonged to? Nobody answers. He scampers off. Thank God. I later saw his mother. White trash, bra-less, toothless, fried hair, socks and flip flops wearing cow. Dad had less hair but the same amount of teeth and was ALSO sporting socks with sandals. They were stuffing their faces while their devil spawn terrorized the whole place. Assholes. A few minutes later, I take my boy into the small arcade with games for the little kids and try to win him an animal out of the crane machine. He is standing next to me, behaving himself and watching the crane take my money, when here comes Lucifer again, knocking him out of the way and jumping up and down pointing at what animal HE wants and thinks he's getting. I shove him away and pick my kid up off the floor and head back to the table where we all enjoy our pizza in peace. After they eat, the boys go back to the soft area and here comes Lucifer AGAIN. This time he wraps his hands around some kids throat (thankfully not my kid or I'd be writing this blog on a prison wall) and his fat ass momma FINALLY steps in. She proceeds to wrap her hands around HIS neck and explain that this is just how you deal with him because he's autistic. Um. What? If he's autistic I'm mickey fucking mouse. He's just BAD. He looked me dead in my face and tried to interact with me. That's not autism. He doesn't need meds. He needs his little ass whipped. But I'm not a doctor so I guess I could be entirely wrong. He could in fact have autism on some scale. In which case, I'm the jackhole that strong armed a special kid. But in my defense...if your kid has a diagnosed disorder and behavioral problems...what the FUCK are you doing turning him loose in a place like that?? And you can't blame it ALL on autism. I know PLENTY of autistic children that are sweet and well behaved because their parents put in the effort. Further proof people need to pass a battery of tests before they should be able to procreate.
That was just ONE visit and ONE kid. When we had a birthday party there, the offenses heaped upon us were numerous. And ALL because people don't watch their kids. We had two children we didn't even know come sit down in a chair in the private party room and ask for a cupcake. I told them to leave. I'm sorry. I'm a hateful, brutally honest, dream crusher and children are not spared. These brats are too damn sensitive these days. Everybody gets picked, everybody gets a trophy, everybody gets invited and gets a cupcake. Nope. Sorry. If you suck you don't make the team, if you lose you don't get a trophy, if you didn't get invited, tough shit and no you don't get a cupcake from SOMEBODY ELSE'S BIRTHDAY. It's amazing! The soft play area is for little kids (under 3 ft) only, yet there are always some 7-10 year old kids in there terrorizing the little ones and knocking them down. Nobody knows how to wait their turn. The kids have NO manners and listen to NOBODY. If you ask them to do something, the holler "YOUR NOT MY MOMMA!!" When we were kids, if an adult told you to do something, you said yes ma'am/sir and DID it. Period. My momma would've whooped my ASS had I smarted off to an adult. But times have clearly changed. Kids will be kids so parents need to step it up. I know you're busy. We're all busy. We all have work and households to run, family obligations, sports, girl/boy scouts, music lessons, errands and LIFE in general. We're all over worked, underpaid and stressed the hell out. That doesn't mean you get to slack ass on the parenting and leave it up to daycare, teachers, lifeguards and park/playground/Pete's/Chuckie Cheese employees. You need to teach your little demon howler monkeys to behave in public so I don't feel like every time I go to an event geared towards children I've been transported to a real life Lord of the Flies. This madness HAS to stop and it starts at home.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Rosie's F***ing Fashions
My lovely sister-in-law and I went on the annual mission to find Mardi Gras gowns this past Saturday. I've always had trouble finding a dress that doesn't make me feel like a glittery jewel encrusted manatee. Mostly because I have giant boobs and currently I'm just giant everywhere. Add to that the fact that I'm incredibly cheap and hormonally imbalanced and we have a disaster waiting to happen.
We started our quest at the mall. Penny's first. They had about 16 different dresses. NONE bigger than an 8. NONE. We high tailed it out of there and headed to Dillards. Didn't even waste time in Belk since they never have anything for under 200 bucks. We get to Dillards, and they have a bunch of dresses, but they are all tiny. There were MAYBE six size 10's and two size 12's. All those went in the fitting room with us. Kristy had ONE dress that wasn't damaged in some way. A snag, busted seams, big ass hole, broken zippers or ripped stitching that resulted in loose or missing sequins and gems. She bought that dress. Both of the one's I tried on were damaged AND showed off my beautiful back fat. WinWin.
We popped in Cache on our way to Sears. Nothing under 200. Sears didn't have ONE dress. NOT ONE. They just didn't get any in. Neither location. Ridiculous. Which sucks because I can usually find something there. Oh well. So even though Kristy isn't ecstatic about her selection, at least she has a dress, but we continue on in the hopes I will find something as well.
We stop at Jovi's. Walked in and walked out. Nothing under 250. Then we headed down to Puttin' on the Ritz. Ha. After we FINALLY were able to park, the wait to try anything on was 30 minutes and there wasn't anything in there that we really liked. This brings us to Rosie's.
Rosie's F***ing Fashions. I've been there before. Several times. Never actually bought a dress there so I don't know WHY I tried again. Desperation perhaps. We walk in and the first thing we see is this little woman all in black, clearly a saleslady, and she wants to know what size we wear immediately. This pisses me off right out the gate because first of all, none of your g** d*** business and second of all, I HATE being accosted as soon as I go in somewhere. Let me just look around for a minute and if I have a question, I will find YOU.
We told her we were looking for ball gowns and I said I knew where the 12's were. "Well what size do you normally wear in clothes." Um...anywhere from a 10-14 depending on the store, section, article of clothing or brand. "Well you should start in the 14's and go up" I don't wear a 14 in dresses and certainly not a 16. I wear a 12. I dress me every day AND I've been trying on BALL GOWNS all day. I know what I'm looking for. So she starts in on Kristy and I think that convo went about the same way. I had moved on to the fat girl rack so the saleswhore would leave me alone.
So we start sifting through all these dresses. Kristy picks out one and a sales lady immediately takes it from her to 'start a room'. Fine. It's a bitch to cart one around and move those heavy ass plastic dress bags anyway. So I pick out 2 dresses, one a 14 and one a 12, just so I can fuck with the sales lady's 'expertise'. Kristy grabs 2 more and we start to make our way to the dressing room when another sales women stops us. She looks at Kristy "What size do you wear?" Kristy, clearly exasperated with these fucking nazis, reply's with "A 9/10." The sales lady looks at the gorgeous pink dress Kristy has in her hands and says "Well what size is that?" The bitch hasn't even started in on me yet and I'm ready to smack her. Kristy says it's an 11. Snotty asshole sales lady's reply after glaring at Kristy and looking her up and down, "Well, it MIGHT fit you. Those are cut small." Basically "Um, you are CLEARLY to fat for that." RUDE C***. So Kristy and I give each other 'the look' and make our way to the fitting area.
This place was packed. Of course. It's Mardi Gras in Mobile and nobody else sure as shit has much of a selection so every other exasperated woman has flocked to Rosies. God bless our souls.
This is where this place REALLY gets irritating. Now, I've seen the damage women do to dresses trying to squeeze into ones that are clearly to small. They get deodorant and make up on the dresses and rip them with rings and earrings. They are generally careless bitches but not everybody is like that and I don't appreciate being treated as such.
So we are standing at the fitting entrance just taking in the madness that is going on. They take the dresses from us, hang them up on a rack in the entrance so they can get them out of the plastic bags and unzipped. We aren't allowed to do that apparently. Then the Nazi dress lady takes a look at my selections and proceeds to ask me what balls I'm going to. I tell her the Merry Mates and the Inca's. She says "Oh well you can't wear this dress to the Inca's." and starts to put it back on the rack. I stopped her and said "That may be the case, but I CAN wear it to the Merry Mates." The dress had a slit to the knee but it still covered the ankles and went to the floor. I've been to countless Mardi Gras Balls. I KNOW what the fuck I can and cannot wear. She still argues with me "But you can't wear it to the Inca's." "I can, but even if I CAN'T, I have another dress I can wear to the Inca's." "Well, why don't you try something you can wear to both" BITCH. This is where I start to get pissed. If I want to buy that motherfucking thing to wear to the FLEA MARKET that's MY FUCKING PEROGATIVE!!! I said, through gritted teeth, that I was trying it on....put it in a room. She rolls her eyes and FINALLY does what I, the paying customer, ask of her. Meanwhile, there is this OTHER Nazi who is looking at all the dresses that are waiting to be tried on and noticing that "MOTHER OF GOD! THE ZIPPERS ARE CLOSED! WHO IS LETTING PEOPLE UNZIP THE DRESSES THEMSELVES??? IF YOU FIND OUT OR SEE THEM, BREAK THEIR ARMS!" No shit. This trick said that in front of customers. AMAZING. So I FINALLY make it to a fitting room and this woman, the arm breaking one, tells me to take off all my rings, earrings, bracelets and watches. Fine. I only had on my wedding rings but I obliged and put them in my purse. Then she tells me to let her know when it's time to zip....because I'm not allowed to do that. Not 'if you need help with the zipper, let me know' in a helpful type way, but 'I will break your arm if you so much as lay a finger on that zipper'. Grrr. Fine. Then the final straw, she points to this....shower cap thing.....that USED to be white but is now the color of a baby wipe after it has been used on a shitty ass and proceeds to tell me to put that over my face if I have on mascara. Bitch. You. Are. Tripping. I will NOT put that nasty germy shit on my face. God knows how many greasy, herpes ridden faces it has been on and MINE will not be one. Fuck you. So I pull on dress one. Call her to zip it. She does. I didn't like it. It fit (a 12. Suck it fancy you dress Nazi whore). But it wasn't flattering and the look on my face said so. Zipper lady didn't even wait for me to say anything or give me a chance to see the back. "Yeeeaaahhh....we'll just take this one off." And unzips it. What the fuck???? I like honesty, but I didn't ask for her opinion. So I take that one off and hand it to her to hang up and ZIP, and pull on the other one. She comes in to ZIP it. It's very pretty, but too big (size 14....ME-2, size Nazi -0...keep sucking it fancy) Before I can even make a peep she say's "I don't like this band on the waist." and unzips it. I just couldn't continue. I tore that shit off of me, threw it out of the room, put on my clothes and jewelry and stormed the fuck out of there.
I asked Kristy how her dresses worked and she just kinda wrinkled her nose. That size Nazi was hovering about so I made a point to inquire about the pink one that there was NO WAY HER FAT ENORMOUS ASS COULD SQUEEZE IN. She said, thankfully loud enough for the saleswench to hear "It was too big" We left. That was THE most awful dress fitting experience of my life. And I've only been skinny for ONE of my 27 years and that year I didn't EVEN GO TO MARDI GRAS. That is saying something folks. That many years of trying to dress this body in a skinny bitches world and THESE ASSHOLES were able to trump EVERY crying spell/emotional breakdown I've EVER had in a dressing room. Amazing. They should get a plaque from the city for that. Or a citation.
I was so mad I posted a rant on Facebook immediately and low and behold, SEVEN ladies commented on that post and EVERY ONE OF THEM had something nasty to say about Rosie's. How is this place still in business?? They could have the perfect dress marked down to $5 and I wouldn't give them a DIME. Period. Ever. And that will be easy since I WILL NEVER go back there. Madness. SHEER madness. I felt like Pretty Woman trying to shop on Rodeo Drive except I'm just fat and not an obvious hooker. One friend even commented that they were racist towards here. I don't doubt it one bit.
Thank God the lovely ladies at Rave Review consignment redeemed my faith in sales people. They were so nice and accommodating and didn't hover. It was wonderful. I urge all of you to check that place out sometime. The head lady who appears to own/run the place is probably my new favorite person. I wish I could adopt her. She was awesome. And every year for the rest of forever, that will be the first place I take my business come gown season. God bless them. I even found a dress there. One that I love. For below my budget. Oh happy day.
If any of you have yet to buy your dress this year, I hope you are rich and thin or get to Rave Review before it gets picked over. Otherwise, God bless you. Skip breakfast and take a prozac before you leave the house. Or just get a friend to drive you and bring a fully loaded flask and some kleenex. You're gonna need it.
Friday, February 4, 2011
An Open Letter to Mooches and Lazy People
I am so sick and tired of mooches and lazy people. Sick. And. Tired. I remember when I was a kid, there was a stigma attached to collecting any kind of assistance. People were ashamed to seek it and did so in secret and ONLY when they were desperate. Now it's something people TRY to do. Whether they need to or not. Just to get something for nothing. Because they're lazy. Or they think they're entitled to it.
Newsflash. You are not entitled to SHIT. Nobody owes you a mother fucking thing. YOU and YOUR children are YOUR responsibility. You laid down and made those babies so I don't give a shit if you have you walk the street selling your ass, you'd better put your boots on and get 'er done. I have a hard enough time providing for MY family, so knowing you are sitting on your lazy ass smoking a fat one watching Oprah and collecting a check while I slave away at my job makes me want to club you like a fucking seal.
Why are you proud to whip out that government card at Winn Dixie? I guess because you swipe it with one hand while you hold a brand new IPhone in the other. You are freshly manicured, have a ring on each finger and have keys to that brand new accord hanging out the back pocket of a pair of $200 dollar jeans. I guess if I was a sorry low life piece of shit that lacked any semblance of moral fiber or personal responsibility I'd be a smug ass about robbing the taxpayers blind and getting off scott free too.
Don't get me wrong. I know some people need help. I'm all for a hand UP not a hand OUT. I know shit happens and you are dealt circumstances and will need some help getting on your feet. Good. That's what the system is in place for. It is NOT in place, however, for people to LIVE off of for an extended period of time, or so people can sit on their asses and continue to have more freakin babies they can't afford. I think if you want to collect a check, you have to pass a piss test AND be on some form of extended fool proof birth control. Like an IUD or Depo shot. You clearly can't afford the kid(s) you've got and we won't pay for any more. Period. AND if you can't find a job, you need to do volunteer work to earn that free money you get. There's plenty of shit needs doin. Put your boots on.
And these assholes that think they deserve brand new cars and big ass houses infuriate me. They think because their parents live comfortably they should too. Well fuck our parents have worked for 40 fucking years. They deserve a new car or home. They've paid their dues. YOU, however, are not entitled to that mansion and 2011 gas guzzler. Yet you buy it anyway and when you go belly up just file bankruptcy and still get to keep your shit. Ridiculous. I'd like to set you on fire. YOU are the reason this fucking economy is in the state its in. And the reason this dumb ass socialist bastard wants to tax us to death is so the government will have more money to bail out more irresponsible FUCKS like you.
I can't even put into words how incredibly infuriating it is to write a check to Providence every month while Slutty McWhore bag gets knocked up by John Doe-one-night-stand and gets to have her baby for free. Why do we reward irresponsible behavior? WHY? Why is my reward for being married, employed, insured and having a stable loving home in place before starting a family paying for irresponsible sluts to give birth to more daddyless welfare babies? Huh? Why? Why do they get discounted child care, social security, food stamps, WIC, medicaid and housing assistance for being fucking stupid?? WHY???
I need to just stop before I have a damn stroke. These people....ugh. When will it end? How can we fix it? CAN we fix it? What happened to working for what you have? That used to be the greatest sense of accomplishment to work to earn something. Now its to see how much you can get for free. It's pathetic. Our great grandparents are rolling in their graves as everything they stood for gets buried right next to them. We've got to get back to the old days. Small government and survival of the fittest. Let the stupid ones die off and not procreate please? The way we are set up now we are not only encouraging but FUNDING their breeding.
*Sigh* The longer I live the more that 2012 mess makes sense. The Earth and God are fed up with us. We are a society of evil, selfish, destructive people and the Earth is about to shake us off like a bad case of fleas. This can't go on forever. Something's gotta give.
Newsflash. You are not entitled to SHIT. Nobody owes you a mother fucking thing. YOU and YOUR children are YOUR responsibility. You laid down and made those babies so I don't give a shit if you have you walk the street selling your ass, you'd better put your boots on and get 'er done. I have a hard enough time providing for MY family, so knowing you are sitting on your lazy ass smoking a fat one watching Oprah and collecting a check while I slave away at my job makes me want to club you like a fucking seal.
Why are you proud to whip out that government card at Winn Dixie? I guess because you swipe it with one hand while you hold a brand new IPhone in the other. You are freshly manicured, have a ring on each finger and have keys to that brand new accord hanging out the back pocket of a pair of $200 dollar jeans. I guess if I was a sorry low life piece of shit that lacked any semblance of moral fiber or personal responsibility I'd be a smug ass about robbing the taxpayers blind and getting off scott free too.
Don't get me wrong. I know some people need help. I'm all for a hand UP not a hand OUT. I know shit happens and you are dealt circumstances and will need some help getting on your feet. Good. That's what the system is in place for. It is NOT in place, however, for people to LIVE off of for an extended period of time, or so people can sit on their asses and continue to have more freakin babies they can't afford. I think if you want to collect a check, you have to pass a piss test AND be on some form of extended fool proof birth control. Like an IUD or Depo shot. You clearly can't afford the kid(s) you've got and we won't pay for any more. Period. AND if you can't find a job, you need to do volunteer work to earn that free money you get. There's plenty of shit needs doin. Put your boots on.
And these assholes that think they deserve brand new cars and big ass houses infuriate me. They think because their parents live comfortably they should too. Well fuck our parents have worked for 40 fucking years. They deserve a new car or home. They've paid their dues. YOU, however, are not entitled to that mansion and 2011 gas guzzler. Yet you buy it anyway and when you go belly up just file bankruptcy and still get to keep your shit. Ridiculous. I'd like to set you on fire. YOU are the reason this fucking economy is in the state its in. And the reason this dumb ass socialist bastard wants to tax us to death is so the government will have more money to bail out more irresponsible FUCKS like you.
I can't even put into words how incredibly infuriating it is to write a check to Providence every month while Slutty McWhore bag gets knocked up by John Doe-one-night-stand and gets to have her baby for free. Why do we reward irresponsible behavior? WHY? Why is my reward for being married, employed, insured and having a stable loving home in place before starting a family paying for irresponsible sluts to give birth to more daddyless welfare babies? Huh? Why? Why do they get discounted child care, social security, food stamps, WIC, medicaid and housing assistance for being fucking stupid?? WHY???
I need to just stop before I have a damn stroke. These people....ugh. When will it end? How can we fix it? CAN we fix it? What happened to working for what you have? That used to be the greatest sense of accomplishment to work to earn something. Now its to see how much you can get for free. It's pathetic. Our great grandparents are rolling in their graves as everything they stood for gets buried right next to them. We've got to get back to the old days. Small government and survival of the fittest. Let the stupid ones die off and not procreate please? The way we are set up now we are not only encouraging but FUNDING their breeding.
*Sigh* The longer I live the more that 2012 mess makes sense. The Earth and God are fed up with us. We are a society of evil, selfish, destructive people and the Earth is about to shake us off like a bad case of fleas. This can't go on forever. Something's gotta give.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Bad Drivers
Today seems like a good day for a nice rant on people's inability to operate a motor vehicle. Before I start my bitching, I will go ahead and say a prayer to God and the distributor of karma that I am by no means perfect, so please don't reward my bashing of other people skills with an accident of my own. Unless you want to run a deer in front of me. I'll take that. But please make it a big one. Not rack, just body. I need the meat. Amen.
Moving on. I don't know if people have always been this ridiculous or if I'm just getting less oblivious the older I get. I do remember my mom calling people hilarious names in the car when I was child so I guess sucky drivers aren't a new development.
Just this week I've encountered the following and they drive. me. insane.
1. That big ass white line at an intersection, that's where your front bumper goes, not your back tires jackass. Sometimes I wish I drove a big ass piece of shit derby car so when people do this and I have to turn left around them I could just ram the hell out of them.
2. Speeding through residential streets and more specifically MY residential street. I know its my job to keep my kid out of the road, but still, the speed limit is 30. Going 50 makes me want to sit on my roof with a sniper rifle and take your ass out. Since that's illegal I may just sit at the edge of my driveway with a bucket of softballs and lightly toss one in front of your windshield as you pass by. If you had been going the speed limit, it probably would've just bounced off. But since you are an asshole going too fast, you now have a giant hole in your windshield and need a new pair of pants. Haha.
3. SLOWER TRAFFIC KEEP RIGHT!!! I cannot even explain the rage I feel when two cars ride side by side on the interstate going 65. Get out of my f***ing way. I want to put the pit move on you SO freakin bad and spin your dumb inconsiderate ass off into the median.
4. The whole purpose of the effing turning lane is so you can get in it to slow down/stop without slowing down EVERYBODY behind you. Don't STOP and THEN move into the turning lane, stupid.
5. And speaking of turning, that stick coming out of your steering column is to alert the non-psychics of your intentions. Use it.
6. Rattling. Freaking. Trunks. FORTHELOVEOFGOD. If I wanted to hear that godawful shit you are listening too.....I'd be sitting in YOUR car. I don't want to hear your trunk rattling off the hinges and somebody hollering about their ho's and a glock from 4 lanes over. I would love to end that noise with a blast of buckshot but alas, that is ALSO illegal. Lucky you.
7. An extension of the loud ass music. When you stop in a gas station. Turn. That. Shit. Off. Nobody wants to hear it. You aren't cool. In fact, I am going to reach in your car, take the keys out and throw that shit in traffic. Why do you leave your car on anyway? That is just asking for people to steal it. I wish somebody would so myself nor my little one would suffer any hearing loss due to your noise. Thank God my kid can't understand a word of that crap because its sure nothing I want him repeating. I hate you.
8. If I have to even TAP my break....you've pulled out in front of me. Another moment I wish I was in the derby car. I'd like to smash your trunk in.
9. If you can't park it, don't drive it. Period.
10. Those mirrors aren't for your vanity. Try looking for cars in them before you blindly switch lanes. And how about that blinker?
11. If I let you out in traffic and you don't offer that little wave of appreciation it makes me want to floor it right into the side of your ungrateful ass.
12. Although I bitch about people going WAY past the white line at an intersection, please pull ALL THE WAY up too it. I can't stand when I need to turn right and some jackhole is blocking me in because they are stupid and oblivious and won't pull up 10 feet.
13. Pay attention. Don't text or put on makeup while driving. PLEASE. I'd like to make it home to my family and my family make it home to me. And if you do wait until you stop at a red light to send that text message, fine. Thank you. But you still need to mind the light. Green means GO. And if I have to sit through this damn thing twice because you are a MORON I'm going to lose. My. Shit.
14. Green may mean GO, but Red means STOP. 90 seconds isn't worth dying over. I've seen too many accidents end tragically because some dumbass had to floor it to beat the light and ended up smashing into and killing somebody. That person should be strapped the front of a semi and driven into a brick wall.
15. Buzzed driving IS drunk driving. I think if you get busted driving drunk your ass needs to be implanted with some kind of chip that will render a car useless if you come within 2 feet of the steering wheel. And if you really fuck up and hurt or God forbid kill somebody, the cops should just shoot you right there. Period.
16. Turn on your fucking lights in the rain, fog and especially at night. Dumbass. You may be awesomely gifted with stellar vision and can see just fine thankyouverymuch....it's so OTHER people can see YOU.
17. You won't flip over if you turn going faster than 5mph. Get. Out. Of. The. Way.
18. If you are too scared to go faster than 30 miles per hour then call a damn cab. I swear EVERY time I get on Dawes I get stuck behind some fucktard going 30 miles per hour and a 6 mile drive that normally takes about 8-10 minutes now takes 20. I wish I could have some RPG's installed behind my fog lights so I could blow your stupid worthless ass off the road with the touch of a button. Which is probably why I should never be president. Iran get an attitude? Red button. Pakistan make a threat? Red button.
19. I love LOVE it when people block a whole lane of traffic because they are stopped in the road trying to squeeze into the next lane over. You weren't paying attention. If you can't get over without inconveniencing somebody else I suggest you just keep driving until you CAN get over, find a place to turn around and try again. You are fucking up the flow. Stop it.
And finally.....the worst of all.
20. If you hear sirens or see an ambulance...move. Somewhere. ANYWHERE. When I see people making no effort to yield to emergency response vehicles....oh I cannot even put on screen the level of ill will I wish them. Thanks to you somebody's stroke has now caused permanent damage, or its taking to long to resuscitate somebody. Because of YOU. I think firetrucks and ambulances should be outfitted with the above referenced RPG system.
One day, I'm going to lose it. I'm just going to fill up a 5 gallon bucket full of softballs, grab a sharpie and go driving. I will write things like "Use the blinker WHORE" or "Get off the phone ASSHOLE!" on the ball and throw it into their window. Maybe that will get their attention. Or we could just all carry paintball guns at all times and when somebody commits an offense to you or anybody else, tag them. Then we will see these cars littered in paint ball marks and know to avoid them.
Moving on. I don't know if people have always been this ridiculous or if I'm just getting less oblivious the older I get. I do remember my mom calling people hilarious names in the car when I was child so I guess sucky drivers aren't a new development.
Just this week I've encountered the following and they drive. me. insane.
1. That big ass white line at an intersection, that's where your front bumper goes, not your back tires jackass. Sometimes I wish I drove a big ass piece of shit derby car so when people do this and I have to turn left around them I could just ram the hell out of them.
2. Speeding through residential streets and more specifically MY residential street. I know its my job to keep my kid out of the road, but still, the speed limit is 30. Going 50 makes me want to sit on my roof with a sniper rifle and take your ass out. Since that's illegal I may just sit at the edge of my driveway with a bucket of softballs and lightly toss one in front of your windshield as you pass by. If you had been going the speed limit, it probably would've just bounced off. But since you are an asshole going too fast, you now have a giant hole in your windshield and need a new pair of pants. Haha.
3. SLOWER TRAFFIC KEEP RIGHT!!! I cannot even explain the rage I feel when two cars ride side by side on the interstate going 65. Get out of my f***ing way. I want to put the pit move on you SO freakin bad and spin your dumb inconsiderate ass off into the median.
4. The whole purpose of the effing turning lane is so you can get in it to slow down/stop without slowing down EVERYBODY behind you. Don't STOP and THEN move into the turning lane, stupid.
5. And speaking of turning, that stick coming out of your steering column is to alert the non-psychics of your intentions. Use it.
6. Rattling. Freaking. Trunks. FORTHELOVEOFGOD. If I wanted to hear that godawful shit you are listening too.....I'd be sitting in YOUR car. I don't want to hear your trunk rattling off the hinges and somebody hollering about their ho's and a glock from 4 lanes over. I would love to end that noise with a blast of buckshot but alas, that is ALSO illegal. Lucky you.
7. An extension of the loud ass music. When you stop in a gas station. Turn. That. Shit. Off. Nobody wants to hear it. You aren't cool. In fact, I am going to reach in your car, take the keys out and throw that shit in traffic. Why do you leave your car on anyway? That is just asking for people to steal it. I wish somebody would so myself nor my little one would suffer any hearing loss due to your noise. Thank God my kid can't understand a word of that crap because its sure nothing I want him repeating. I hate you.
8. If I have to even TAP my break....you've pulled out in front of me. Another moment I wish I was in the derby car. I'd like to smash your trunk in.
9. If you can't park it, don't drive it. Period.
10. Those mirrors aren't for your vanity. Try looking for cars in them before you blindly switch lanes. And how about that blinker?
11. If I let you out in traffic and you don't offer that little wave of appreciation it makes me want to floor it right into the side of your ungrateful ass.
12. Although I bitch about people going WAY past the white line at an intersection, please pull ALL THE WAY up too it. I can't stand when I need to turn right and some jackhole is blocking me in because they are stupid and oblivious and won't pull up 10 feet.
13. Pay attention. Don't text or put on makeup while driving. PLEASE. I'd like to make it home to my family and my family make it home to me. And if you do wait until you stop at a red light to send that text message, fine. Thank you. But you still need to mind the light. Green means GO. And if I have to sit through this damn thing twice because you are a MORON I'm going to lose. My. Shit.
14. Green may mean GO, but Red means STOP. 90 seconds isn't worth dying over. I've seen too many accidents end tragically because some dumbass had to floor it to beat the light and ended up smashing into and killing somebody. That person should be strapped the front of a semi and driven into a brick wall.
15. Buzzed driving IS drunk driving. I think if you get busted driving drunk your ass needs to be implanted with some kind of chip that will render a car useless if you come within 2 feet of the steering wheel. And if you really fuck up and hurt or God forbid kill somebody, the cops should just shoot you right there. Period.
16. Turn on your fucking lights in the rain, fog and especially at night. Dumbass. You may be awesomely gifted with stellar vision and can see just fine thankyouverymuch....it's so OTHER people can see YOU.
17. You won't flip over if you turn going faster than 5mph. Get. Out. Of. The. Way.
18. If you are too scared to go faster than 30 miles per hour then call a damn cab. I swear EVERY time I get on Dawes I get stuck behind some fucktard going 30 miles per hour and a 6 mile drive that normally takes about 8-10 minutes now takes 20. I wish I could have some RPG's installed behind my fog lights so I could blow your stupid worthless ass off the road with the touch of a button. Which is probably why I should never be president. Iran get an attitude? Red button. Pakistan make a threat? Red button.
19. I love LOVE it when people block a whole lane of traffic because they are stopped in the road trying to squeeze into the next lane over. You weren't paying attention. If you can't get over without inconveniencing somebody else I suggest you just keep driving until you CAN get over, find a place to turn around and try again. You are fucking up the flow. Stop it.
And finally.....the worst of all.
20. If you hear sirens or see an ambulance...move. Somewhere. ANYWHERE. When I see people making no effort to yield to emergency response vehicles....oh I cannot even put on screen the level of ill will I wish them. Thanks to you somebody's stroke has now caused permanent damage, or its taking to long to resuscitate somebody. Because of YOU. I think firetrucks and ambulances should be outfitted with the above referenced RPG system.
One day, I'm going to lose it. I'm just going to fill up a 5 gallon bucket full of softballs, grab a sharpie and go driving. I will write things like "Use the blinker WHORE" or "Get off the phone ASSHOLE!" on the ball and throw it into their window. Maybe that will get their attention. Or we could just all carry paintball guns at all times and when somebody commits an offense to you or anybody else, tag them. Then we will see these cars littered in paint ball marks and know to avoid them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)