Hey! Good news everybody!!

There are 33 murders a DAY in Baghdad. Or maybe there aren't. Hmm... seems like a lot of controversy. Perhaps with no law and order and no infrastructure it might be hard to tell what the number really is. We know that the Washington Post counted 100,000 civilian deaths as of October... but those could have been regular civilian casualties and not murders. (See shake and bake. Damn I forgot I was pissed about that.)

Luckily Donald Rumsfeld is clearing this whole thing up for us: "You've got to remember that if Washington, D.C., were the size of Baghdad, we would be having something like 215 murders a month." AWESOME.

This is totally comparablele to 990 a month (if you don't know how to count.)

On the other other line of thought. If we had no cops and ample machine guns America would be populated by two fat white guys from Montana named Bob.

Incidentally, property values must have just plummeted in DC. Thanks Rummy!!!

I smell burning pants....

So here are we are, back at Charles Taylor. In the last episode Charles was spending the millions he liberated from Liberia and Sierra Leone while in blissful Nigeria. Now apparently Nigeria is willing to give him up to Liberia, Liberia wants to send him to Sierra Leone for trial and mysteriously Nigeria isn't erm exactly sure where they put him. My guess: Brazil.

Can I just spaz a wee bit more about this? Thanks. 17 counts of war crimes and crimes against humanity and since 2003 he was sitting by a pool drinking booze out of glasses garnished umbrellas, and now they lost him. The article I read this morning, which brought me back to this issue was entitled: "Liberia, Nigeria at odds over Taylor custody."
2 points:
#1: "at odds," you think? I love it when my neighbors harbor war criminals who illegally ruled my nation and stole my nations wealth in a zesty campaign of "civil war" and random killings. Don't you?
#2: "Taylor custody?" What custody? Oh gosh erm, Chuck's around here some where. Uhm, let's see, maybe he's in the yellow pages under ruthless dictator. I feel suspicious that Nigeria is finally bending to the will of the west in such an orderly fashion....

Oh, I’m sorry, have we met?

Today I was perusing Best of Craigslist, looking for luscious humorousness. Instead I found another exciting diatribe about how straight people ruin the lives of gay people.

Let me say this once.

I’M NOT SORRY.

I’m not sorry I’m white (which, might I mention I’m not)

I’m not sorry I’m straight

I’m not sorry I’m Christian

I’m not sorry I’m privileged (would this be a good time to mention that I grew up in a trailer?)

I didn’t enslave anyone, least of all anyone’s ancestors
I have never beat up a gay person or any other person
I have never voted to remove the rights to marry or adopt or abort
I have never told anyone they are going to hell

I don’t care who you marry, who you screw, or where or if you go to church. I don’t care what race you are or where you went to school or how much money you make.

So don’t you dare accuse me of anything. I’m tired of being the scapegoat for all your problems. I’m tired of being your enemy. I’m tired of people trying to make me feel guilty for things that I have never done.

Keep your bigotry to yourself, I don’t have the time or inclination to bolster your martyr-complex.

The Year of Oh HELL No!

I'm reading an acclaimed book right now, Maria Dahvana Headley's The Year of Yes. It came highly recommended from a friend who thought I might enjoy it and catch more of the literary allusions. She's right on one count. I am catching her literary allusions, literally 5 to a page.
I hate hate hate Maria Dahvana Headley. HATE. I am about oh... one chapter into this book and I already hate her.
Point #1: She's still bitter about her childhood in Idaho. (Well get in line, sister.) On page 12ish she talks about how none of the guys in her high school wanted to date her because she is curvy and vaguely ethnic looking.
















Does she not look like a regular old cracker who very very badly needs a sandwich? And also a bit like Smeagol? Meep!
Perhaps the reason she didn't get asked out is evidenced on page 5 where she casually mentions that she sowed her own clothes and would wear such exciting ensemble as a patch-work toga held together by safety pins.
Perhaps the reason she didn't get asked out is because she's a pretentious, self-deluded bitch who uses the word "Kafka-esque" and expects snaps. She claims to be a playwright. Playwrights, don't just write plays. They sell plays that are then performed for people who pay money. I'm assuming she was just as self-deluded in high school.
Perhaps the reason she didn't get asked out was because she mistakenly thought she was too good for Idaho.
Point #2: When she announces to her roommates that she is going to go out with anyone who asks including construction workers and taxi drivers one roommate (also vile) says "You're not going to sleep with them all are you?" Maria Dahvana Headley pauses and thinks, "Oh I usually do- even though I don't want to." Let me ask you this, if there is anything in your life that you can control, is it not who you sleep with? I can't control traffic or weather, but I am the sole proprietor of my lady-bits. Anyway, then her vile roommate says "Eww, what if he's like a dog-walker from New Jersey." I'm sorry, but she is an unemployed, egomaniacal, snaggle-toothed, crazy, slut from Idaho. At least a dog-walker has a job.
Point #3: Maria Dahvana Headley made sure to point out that the major down points of Idaho are the prevalence of serial killers (all from the NW apparently) and white people. I would have thought depressed economy, lack of economic diversity, lack of metropolitan culture, and rednecks- all sorts would be the issues of complaint. That and the potatoes.
Don't worry, I hate this woman so much, I can't stop reading. I can't wait till she gets the clap or has sex with a married man or maybe an artichoke.

Devo 2.Oh-oh

Today I was looking for a song in I-Tunes and misclicked to the children’s section. There was a banner for the next big thing in tween music: DEVO 2.0

DEVO 2.0 is all the original hits of DEVO (Whip it and …. uhm… Whip It) and a bunch of other DEVO songs (I would conjecture) remade by what appears to be a tone-deaf 12 year old girl.. While the music was actually physically painful (to say the VERY least) I found the customer reviews to be quite entertaining. I read 78 reviews of the CD “DEVO 2.0,” as recorded by the band DEVO 2.0. (It seems as though these kids have never heard of the band Big Country or they might have seen how this is gonna go down.) Here are some excerpts from my favorite customer reviews (not changed in any way):

-This Music Is Like The Originals But It Is Like Crazy Frog. I Listen to It Every Day

-Ever wonder what DEVO would sound like if all its members were pre-pubescent children? Yeah, me neither.

-Bottom line: it sucks, the apocalypse is coming!

-I’m speechless. Just listening to the previews was proof enough that this is the worst piece of garbage that I have ever heard. DEVO was pure genius. Dressing up spoiled rich kids to make them look “new wave” is an insult to my intelligence….

-I guess this is ok… not!

-Shoot me. What’s next? NIN 2.0? Please, Disney, PLEASE stop! What’s wrong with kids listening to the original artist? Last time I checked, Devo didn’t drop too many f-bombs in their catalogue. This album is a sign of the apocalypse.

-The horror. A Devo cover band devoid of irony. This is horrendous. I can’t say how much I detest this piece of devolved excrement.

-WOW. This is some craptacular carcrash… it’d totally open up that coveted canine demographic. This is landfill. Treat it accordingly.

-Way to RUIN Devo.

-I’m going to try to forget that this exists.

-I am in peace when I hear Devo, but I am in hell when I hear DEVO 2.0; so if you want to get this waste of time (not to be rude) you should really get Devo!!!! Because there are some kids willing to do anything for money, just like these kids!!!

-This is a complete rip off and they have nothing in common musically with the actual band. (Devo)

-My ears are throwing up.

-I would give this no stars if I could.

-Tee-hee. This is funny. I think I like it, and that scares me.

-What hath Disney wrought. This is a horrendous mockery of the Devo name.

-DEVO is one of the most influental new wave bands there ever was. To think that a bubblegum pop girl and her friends could give DEVO the respect they deserve was thinking too much. This is like kids bob for nerds.

Canadian, Hooker, Cowboy.

William Shatner

Although best known for his role as Captain James T. Kirk in the popular “Star Trek” television series and movies, William Shatner has appeared in dozens of productions, ranging from “Judgment at Nuremberg” to “Miss Congeniality.” He brings his unique presentation style to “Extinction!” as the show’s narrator.

The Montreal native was graduated from McGill University and began his acting career in 1956. He appeared in several movies before earning fame as leader of the “Star Trek” ensemble cast and, later, in the title role of the police-themed television series “T.J. Hooker.” He currently stars as lawyer Denny Crane on “Boston Public.”

Shatner has hosted TV’s “Iron Chef USA,” “Rescue 911” and “Saturday Night Live.” He has appeared in Broadway productions, recorded music and created the “Tek” series of science fiction books, which became a Canadian TV series. He is also CEO of Core Digital Effects, a Toronto-based company that has produced digital effects for movies.

In 1999, Shatner received an Emmy Award for his guest appearance on “Third Rock from the Sun.” He earned a Golden Globe Award in 2005 for his performance on “Boston Public.”

In addition to his work in the entertainment industry, Shatner owns a horse farm in Kentucky, where he shows American Saddlebred and Quarter horses. He and his family live in California.

William Shatner, You Crafty Bastard!

As an Aside, I would LOVE to mention that the title of this picture file was "extinct_shatner." When I clicked to view where Google Images took the photo from, I found it intriguing that the Moorehead Planetarium chose William Shatner to narrate a show called "Extinction!" Below it was an interesting biographical note (which I shall post momentarily.)

Have you seen this? The William Shatner DVD Club. A banner ad for it was running over some garbage I was reading on the interweb. This is one of those DVD subscription programs except you get "Exceptional movies for the Sci-Fi fan!"

Major slogan: "Own the Underground Hits No One Else Has!"

"Join the William Shatner DVD Club and Discover Great Movies! William Shatner has culled the thousands of films he has seen into a collection of the best Sci-Fi, Horror & Fantasy movies available."
"Proprietary Playlist- Only members can enjoy expert selections from the William Shatner DVD Club. We never publish a list of our constantly evolving collection.
Memorable Titles- Members receive stimulating movies selected from the classic Shatner Collection or one of his most recent finds. "

Some movie examples:

I've actually seen this one. On accident. I swear. Ginger Snaps
"Caustic and refreshingly twisted, Ginger Snaps is a frightening fable that puts a credible and modern spin on the traditional werewolf movie. Sisters Ginger and Brigitte are ostracized by their town and classmates because of their morbid inclinations. After being attacked by a wolf, Ginger begins to exhibit some bizarre behavior while embracing a new lust for life. Brigitte is caught in the awkward position of deciding between saving her past self and joining Ginger in her transformation."

I think that I saw this one too. I believe it was called Ghost Busters II. Or was it Stargate? Gosh, I've seen so many movies! The Immortal (Immortel ad Vitam)
"Based on the French graphic novel by Enki Bilal, Immortal was one of the first films to use an entirely digital backlot to create a stunning fantasy world where gods, mutants, mortals and aliens converge. A floating pyramid has emerged in the skies above Manhattan in 2095, inhabited by ancient Egyptian gods who have come to pass judgment on one of their own, a falcon headed god named Horus. Horus must find a human host body to inhabit and a mate to preserve his immortality. In his quest he becomes irrevocably entwined with a blue haired girl embarking on an analogous journey. Stunning visual effects meld with poetic surrealism in the telling of this epic fantasy."

And of course the stunning:Dragon Storm
"Dragon Storm was developed and commissioned as a Sci-Fi Channel Original Picture. Set in the Dark Ages, the bitterly opposed rulers of two neighboring kingdoms put aside their rivalry to combat an alien-dragon menace. A team of fighters must brave death and destruction to defeat the fire-breathing dragons and ensure the future of mankind."

Featured Directors:
Stuart Gordon Born 1947 Illinois, USA – Notable Films Directed: King of the Ants (2003); Dagon (2001); Fortress (1993); Re-Animator (1985).
David DeCoteau Born 1962 Oregon, USA – Notable Films Directed: The Brotherhood (I-IV); Leeches (2003); Wolves of Wall Street (2002); Puppet Master (III / VI / VII)

Shatner's personal message:
"There is nothing quite as exhilarating as discovering a Sci-Fi, Fantasy or Horror classic-to-be that has gone unnoticed by the general movie watching population. I've personally chosen a select group of movies that were entertaining, original, and memorable to share with you. I hope that you enjoy them as much as I did [baby]." William Shatner.

I think my favorite part of the website is the "Weekly Poll: Which was William Shatner's finest Star Trek performance? ST2, ST3, ST6, or ST5." I can't believe that ST4 wasn't even listed! You know it's the one where they travel back in time to rescue a whale and Spock teaches a young punk on the bus the value of conformity via Vulcan Death Grip. Or was it the one where they traveled back to feudal Japan? Wait, no that was the Ninja Turtles.

I can't decide what to think of Good Ol Billy. He has spun an entire career off of a shortlived 60's TV show where the main plot device was him trying to touch alien boobies. He is either a complete joke or frighteningly brilliant.

Word of the day: Initiaivity

So guess who has 54 things on her 101 things list? Look Ma I am moderately less mediocre
That's right, I am once again doing things. Walking the lake, doing my hair, shopping, applying for Grad School. Perhaps, once again updating my blog? I think so.
To celebrate the doing thingsness that I have recently reclaimed I give you the most precious of my gifts:




Yes, this is a bunny with a Belgian waffle on its head. God, waffles are AMAZING. Thanks Google Images!

You gotta know when to hold 'em... and know when to run.

A family friend, my aunt, and two of my cousins and I were playing cards and my aunt was very very tired. She admitted that she would rather just go to bed than stay up and play any longer. We told her to go, but she hesitated. I said, "What you think we're going to run to the liquor store and pick up some booze and cigars?" Just then my youngest cousin, now 11, pipes up with "And nail polish." We are all staring at him like what the hell, our minds immediately swooping back to the time we all got grounded for painting his nails, when he clarified, "To sniff it."
Of course then I have to open my yap and say "You can't huff nail polish."
Great now two of us are in trouble.

Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places

Today I was browsing through the songs available to upload to my new phone.
I had carefully browsed each category until I arrived at "90's." I opened it up and was shocked to find that there were only two songs in it. Apparently the music of the entire decade can be summed up by the following two songs.

Song One:

Pump it up

Song Two:

Pump it up (remix)

Incidentally, I am sorely tempted to pick Mrs. Robinson as my mother's song....

You Better Work

Today I read this great article that postulated a new and exciting theory as to why our mainstream kids are falling behind: they're lazy bastards.
I couldn't agree more.

Ben Stein = sexy beast.

What follows is the transcript of an editorial that Ben Stein wrote for the December 18, 2005 CBS Sunday Morning.


Here at this happy time of year, a few confessions from my beating heart. I have no freaking clue who Nick and Jessica are. I see them on the cover of People and Us constantly when I'm buying my dog biscuits. I still don't know. I often ask the checkers at the grocery stores who they are. They don't know who Nick and Jessica are, either. Who are they? Will it change my life if I know who they are and why they've broken up? Why are they so darned important? I don't know who Lindsay Lohan is either, and I don't care at all about Tom Cruise's baby. Am I going to be called before a Senate committee and asked if I'm a subversive? Maybe. But I just have no clue who Nick and Jessica are. Is this what it means to be no longer young? Hm, not so bad.

Next confession: I am a Jew and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish, and it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautifully lit-up, bejeweled trees Christmas trees. I don't feel threatened. I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are — Christmas trees. It doesn't bother me a bit when people say 'Merry Christmas' to me. I don't think they're slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact, I kind of like it. I shows that we're all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year.

It doesn't bother me one bit that there's a manger scene on display at a key intersection at my beach house in Malibu. If people want a creche, fine. The menorah a few hundred yards away is fine, too. I do not like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the concept came from that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in the Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat. Or maybe I can put it another way. Where did the idea come from that we should worship Nick and Jessica and aren't allowed to worship God as we understand him? I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too. But there are a lot of us who are wondering where Nick and Jessica came from and where the America we used to know went to.


I like Ben Stein. The snarkiness is pretty hot.

Un-Intelligent Design

So I read this article this morning about how piles of money are shockingly not greatly improving the lives of lottery winners. Why ever might that be? Could it be that people who pay a dollar a week for a one in a billion chance at unearned riches are not amazing money managers?

The lottery is the only system of welfare paid for exclusively by the people who can least afford it. The lottery is wrong. Your lotto ticket buying grannies are subsidizing under-funded programs that should be paid for by funded state mandate. Supporting the lotto is encouraging our government to tax the poor for social programs designed to benefit the poor (while the rich buy yachts and pinch bottoms in St. Barts.) Furthermore, allowing the poor to elect one person to be rich obviously doesn’t benefit the community and also doesn’t benefit the newly moneyed individual. Most folks who have the capacity to earn reasonable wealth are doing so and are not spending money on the lotto.

Winning the lottery is kicking Darwin in the nuts. It’s setting up a survival of the least fit situation. I can give my dog a flux capacitor, but he’ll just piss on it; it takes a Doc Brown to stick it in a DeLorean and err… popularize rock and roll. Can we please stop giving these dogs flux capacitors? Can we please leave Darwin’s nuts alone?

Another example: warning labels. You mean I shouldn’t tip a soda machine onto myself? I shouldn’t drink Drain-o? Au contraire, I say. If I have the God given American right to be an asshole, I think I should have the right to accidentally kill myself, should I be a complete idiot. Think of the babies people say. What of it? When was that last time you saw a baby trying to jiggle a Snickers out of a candy machine. When was the last time you saw a baby reading Dostoevsky? How about a Goodnight Moon? No? Well then what are the stickers for? Adults. Stupid adults. Mr. Yuck stickers are for kids. ‘Don’t jump into lion’s enclosure’ signs are for their moron parents.

Let idiots be idiots; how about instead of granting million dollar settlements to people who spill coffee on themselves, and allowing legalized gambling to fund our schools, we ask everyone (including corporations) to contribute towards better schools and hospitals. This way we don't have to give any old idiot a million dollars to put up his nose for ten years before he's back in the government cheese line, just to partially fund full day kindergarten for a year.

Baby Beluga

After my sudden realization of the finite nature of life and my wasting of said life I came to the conclusion that I need to do more. Instead of laying about the house reading this weekend, I needed to do something. It seemed to me that the hole in my life could easily be filled with polar bears. I LOVE polar bears; they’re my favorite animal which could easily tear off my arm. (Favorite animal that won’t tear of my arm: the tapir.) After only a small amount of arm twisting even my tough guy 11 year old cousin will admit that they are the “cutie-est.”

I decided to take said cousin to the Point Defiance Zoo and Aquarium in Tacoma to witness cutie-est-ness in action. Neither of us had ever been, and soon we’d persuaded my aunt and uncle to join us. It was a nice winter day- by Seattle standards- crisp, grey, and cool. Bundled in mittens and hats we traveled from area to area, giving each animal its own cartoon voice. Mostly, it seems that the animals are bored, and would also like to eat us- even the tapirs.

I’d been worried that because it is winter, there might not be much to see. It turns out there is a lot to see at this time of the year. A LOT. A lot of penises to see. Everywhere we went all the animals were going at it, like uhm… animals. “Oh look red wolves…” I would say. “Oh my,” I would say shortly thereafter.

The worst (and by that I mean the worst thing I have EVER seen in my entire life) were the beluga whales. It started out innocently enough with the two whales playing with a floating hoop. They played keep-away and swiftly swam around dragging the hoop and swimming through it halfway like bloated, albino, ballerinas. Cute, happy, bloated, albino, ballerinas. It was like he was smiling. I bet he was smiling, the pervert. After a while I decided to go into the observation room below the water level and there is was. The scariest thing I’ve ever seen. A beluga whale penis. It was terrifying in ways I refuse to describe. Let me just say that if I was a lady whale I’d beach myself.

Unbelievably, my cousin didn’t even notice the 2 foot long erect whale penis. This is the same kid who at like 5 was watching Friends and turned to me and said, “What’s a condom?” I sat there for a second and then said, “I think those are for married people.” “What, so you don’t know,” he said giving me the look that said ‘you naïve, provincial thing.’ “Well, I’m not married yet. I think they’re for boys….” I said smugly going back to my reading.

Fajita sleeves

Yesterday I was eating lunch at my desk. Happily eating a fajita in one hand and clacking away with the other. Suddenly I catch motion out of the corner of my left eye. A huge chunk of fajita was sliding down my arm. Stunned I watched it fall into my sleeve. I have little to no feeling in my left arm (due to the removal of a nerve tumor a few years back) so apparently a tiny fajita juice lake had been pooling in the elbow of my sweater.
Now if that isn’t sexy I don’t know what is.

You May Be Right, I May Be Crazy...

"Self-respect is the fruit of discipline."
Abraham Heschel

I've always been obsessed with this concept. It's as though I really believe that if I am disciplined and work hard, and do everything right, I can be perfect and safe. But where is this taking me?

A while ago I tried to make a list of 101 things that I wanted to accomplish in the next 1001 days; the list was infested with things like "look into further retirement preparation," "re-prioritize investments," "build additional savings," "organize recipes," "organize holiday materials," "pay off student loan." Shouldn't I have first thought, "paint pottery," "learn how to crochet," "go to France," "skydive."

"Build additional savings?" For what? Plastic bins for my Easter shit?! Furthermore, I could only come up with 16 things. How terrible is it that the majority of my goals involved alphabetization or Consumer Reports? This is what I want in my published list of personal goals, "research and purchase a dining room table?" For the love of God, I'm researching furniture. I think I am finally losing it!

And of course my journal this year lists "New Years Resolution: Lead a more disciplined life."

Can you get more disciplined than having a will at 25? I even have a Porn Buddy. A designated friend with keys to my apartment, so that in the event of my death she will remove a bag with items I would prefer my grandmother not think I possess. I have a file labeled "In the event of Quiana's death," inside it is my will, a sheet of paper with all my account numbers and companies that need to be dealt with (insurance, bank accounts, etc.), and a list of music not to be played under any circumstances at my funeral (mostly angel related music).

Shouldn't I be scrapbooking shit? Or arranging flowers, or something? Instead of making earthquake kits and lecturing my parents on the value of renter's insurance??

Is it possible to be too prepared or is being neurotic and morbid simply my idea of fun? Is it ok to enjoy preparing for the worst that life has to offer?

You tell me.

The Horse Whimperer

This morning I was on the phone with Steve and I asked what his girlfriend and he had planned for the weekend. It turns out that his girlfriend has horseback riding lessons this Saturday. "Oh, riding lessons, cool. Is she learning western style or dressage?" I asked excitedly.
"Uhm... I don't know, I hate horses."
"How could you possibly hate horses?"
"Horses are vicious animals that will kill you on accident." said Steve.
"Hell Steve, I could kill you on accident."
"Well, you're not as big."
"But I bet I could still trample you to death."
"Probably not on accident."

Well, Steve I think that's the jury's job to decide.

Why should I change? He’s the one that sucks!

Today I attended a training entitled “Working with Difficult Behaviors (Including Your Own).” Yes kids, sensitivity training. Nice.
While I can’t fathom why I would like to learn to aid and abet assholes by tacitly agreeing that I don’t deserve to be treated with respect or professional behavior, I was quite curious as to what would be said about dealing with one’s own assholic attitudes. Also, the training was required.
I knew there would be trouble when I entered to find that the very very ethnic-y sounding named lady that would be leading the course was in fact one of those white people who’ve forgotten that every culture (including the various pale ones) have interesting aspects and provocative histories, thus have adopted whichever (though possibly a jumble of several) “Eastern” culture is readily available. She had a gong (hey onomatopoeia) and a Chinese printed Nehru jacket.
BONG! It begins.
Of course in the obligatory opening remarks we got down to the business of making shit up about feelings. We were told to always use “I Statements.”
Example of an “I Statement:” I feel bad when crazy-ass bitches yell at me over the phone because they failed to correctly complete and return their paperwork, despite numerous messages and emails before the deadline, which they’ve known about for literally 5 years.
Here’s an even better “I Statement:” I have a hard time taking my presenters seriously after they use the phrase “don’t let your life-fire die.” May I mention that the only thing burning inside me is the desire for Joaquin Phoenix and some Reflux Disorder symptoms.
Speaking of throwing up in my mouth…
First exercise of the day: write down the advantages to learning to more skillfully work with difficult behaviors. A good translation: how will taking it in the ass and learning to pretend that you like it improve your life at work?
Which leads me to this thought: the ENTIRE purpose of the meeting was to forcibly remove any expectation of personal or professional accountability from our peers.
Ok, I know you’ve all heard this a million times from me, but where the hell did accountability go?
Example of lack of accountability when negatively enforced:
I left my apartment a few weeks ago and as I walked to my car (parked on a quite narrow one-way street) I overheard two gentlemen talking. Gentleman #1 was saying to his friend, “I can’t believe some asshole hit my truck! They didn’t even leave a note with insurance information or anything!” Gentlemen #2, “What the hell is wrong with people these days?” I should mention that the man’s huge truck was a good 3.5-4 feet from the curb. Of course it did not occur to either gentleman that perhaps his truck got hit because it was parked in the middle of the fucking road! Why should someone stop to pay for damage that was caused to a vehicle illegally parked in the damn road? I might also mention that this road is the main access to the old folks home, tap studio, and architect studio on my street. I suppose the fact that customers, deliveries, and, oh say, emergency vehicles may need to, oh say, drive right there never occurred to this guy. While he was completely clueless as to the fact that his truck was likely hit due to his own stupidity, perhaps next time he will park closer to the curb.
Example of lack of accountability when positively enforced:
My cousin works for a very large luxury retail boutique corporation. She works the complaint line. (Her life must rock.) Anyway, one day she gets a call from some guy who parked at one of the locations and when he returned to his brand new Jaguar (HELLLLLLLOOOOOOO you just paid 50 grand for a FORD) someone has backed into it causing a rather steep garage bill and he “wants to know what VLLRBC is going to do about it?” He actually expected them to pay for damage that his car sustained from a non-employee while parked in their parking lot. Well, she tells him to go to hell, as nicely as possible. Well later this guy calls back, gets her boss on the line and VLLRBC agrees to pay for his car repairs and sends him a $150 gift card. What does this tell him? I yell, you pay.
Ah, the American Way.
Why should I positively reinforce abusive behavior, by being conciliatory and perky towards people who casually trample societal mores, office rules, and the law? Screw that, when people call me and start abusing, I have no compunction in interrupting to demand an email cc’d to both of our supervisors. Shaming people into appropriate behavior was your mama’s job, but if she couldn’t manage it I’m always happy to help.

What Would Tyler Durden Do?

Check out this website, it's my newest favorite.
Actual quote:
[Britney,] what the hell does it take for you to snap, to get angry and stun KFed in the side of the head with a cider jug and then strangle him with your rope belt. I promise you, no one is gonna care. Cops hate wiggers like dogs hate cats.

Insult + Injury

Last week I was very sternly instructed to stay home Friday and stay off my stupid foot all weekend. So I stayed home Friday; but I was in my apartment from Thursday at 6 until Saturday morning and I felt that if I sat in my apartment for even one more moment I would actually die.
Pajama clad, on crutches, in pig-tales and a Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy hoodie, I began my two block pilgrimage. I made it all the way to my beloved Albertsons (which was closing it's doors for good that very day) and I gazed upon it's beautiful convenience. Sighing, I turned towards the street, and put my hands in my hoodie pouch to get my netflix returns and letter to Charles. There in front of me was a completely empty patch of dirt. Let me clarify. In highschool, there was a mailbox there; in college, also a mailbox; last Wednesday, a mailbox; Saturday, a patch of dirt. Was my mailbox stolen? Did high school kids show up and throw it the back of their truck? Were they, at that very moment, watching people's netflix and reading their birthday cards? Did the Post Office show up and just remove it because Albertsons was moving? Surely mailbox locations are not contingent to Albertsons locations.
I was standing there staring at the ground when a beautiful young fellow came jogging past. Slowing to a stop he said, "Are you ok?" I said, "Yes, but my fucking mailbox is completely gone." As opposed to partially gone. Good job Q! "Oh, well I guess you can mail it at home." Here I am in Underdog jammy pants and a hoodie, on CRUTCHES, what does he think I'm on my morning constitutional?