Handle Your Business
(Warning, this post is going to tick some people off but I don't give a fuck.)
AirTran removed a family from a plane after a 15-minute delay, during which parents of a 3-year-old throwing a tantrum couldn't calm her into her seat. The parents were outraged, despite the fact that the airline reimbursed their tickets and offered them three round-trip tickets to anywhere they fly. Um, guess what people. YOU made the decision to bring a child into this world, not the 115 other people on that plane. Fifteen minutes is more than enough time that your child should inconvenience them, not to mention air traffic control and every other person flight delays affect.
I have TWO three-year-olds, yet I understand that it is my responsibility to my fellow man to see that they don't inconvenience other people too much. I'm not talking about those prissy, child-hating assholes that get angry when any kid is even remotely noisy or boisterous. I'm talking about delaying 115 people who have somewhere to go, because you expect an airline to bend air safety rules and let you hold your child in your lap on take-off. When turbulence sends her into the next cabin, guess who's going to get sued. "We weren't given an opportunity to hold her or console her" the mom says. Well, if your child had time to climb under the seat, hit you and refuse to sit down then you had time to pick her up and hold her.
I rarely get involved in random parenting debates (like breastfeeding or the working moms versus stay-at-home moms thing) but here are simple rules to being a parent of small children, in public.
1. If your child is throwing a huge tantrum and you can't handle it, and the tantrum is dragging on and on and preventing anyone from getting anything done, pick her up and leave.
2. Do not let your child go wandering off to get into trouble, so you can run your errands without distraction. The pedophiles alone should be enough of a deterrent, but just in case you're an idiot and they're not, how about the fact that strangers having to watch out for your child inconveniences them. It is not nifty to make people stand around and wonder where the parents of this child are, because they're worried a pedophile might get him.
3. Hold your small child's hand in the parking lot, if you're not carrying him. If he breaks away, at least TRY to grab him. On the off chance that you, for some reason, don't care whether or not he gets hit by a car, how about caring that maybe someone else doesn't want to be responsible for the injury of a small child?
4. If your kid's pacifier falls on the ground, rinse it off for God's sake before you shove it back into her mouth. Okay this has nothing to do with safety or convenience, it just bothers me.
5. Don't let your kid bother other people. Examples of bothering include allowing them to:
-Kick the back of someone's seat on a bus, train or airplane
-Run around in a restaurant
-Scream at the top of their lungs for an extended amount of time
-Throw food at people
-Curse at people
-Hit or push other kids out of the way to get something
-Knock things down on purpose
-Wipe their snot on people
-Feed other peoples' dogs crazy glue
-Scream and talk throughout an entire movie
Do I feel sympathy for parents who have small kids? Of course I do. It's not easy being a parent, there are reasons why Geo and I plan escape routes in advance. And why we avoid certain activities. But the other people in the store/restaurant/plane/whatever did not sign up for your parenting duties, so HANDLE YOUR BUSINESS.
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
January 24, 2007
June 17, 2006
Devil With A Bullhorn
Devil With A Bullhorn
1. You can learn a lot from commercials. For example, I never realized it but apparently, lubrication has been lacking that certain something. And apparently, that certain something is "the ability to be sprayed on mistily."
2. Let me rant for a bit, I know so many of you enjoy it when I do that, as long as I'm not bitching about YOU. So at Toys R Us today, I was in line behind some lady. First of all, you know who deserves a nice smack upside the head? People who have to dig in their purses, backpacks, waist pouches, whatever for five minutes at the register. You stood in line for ten minutes. You knew you were going to have to pay for this shit, it wasn't going to pay for itself. And assuming you have the mathematical capabilities of a 10-year-old at least, you probably have some idea of how much the shit is going to cost. Especially if you are only buying 3 items. So why in God's name, do you not have your credit card, cash or both ready???
So this woman finally pays for her stuff and turns to walk away, leaving her cart BLOCKING THE REGISTER. Shaking off my annoyance, I push it carefully to the side, then start to move forward. She comes back and asks me "Is this my cart?" I say yes, and she takes it away, leaving me relieved that yes folks, there is some hope for humanity after all. Except that towards the end of the counter, she realizes that her husband has taken their bags and walked away, so she doesn't need the cart.
Does she take it anyway and return it to its proper cart place? No.
Does she take it and push it against the wall, out of the way? No.
Does she at least put it off to the left, so that other people can get by with their carts? No.
She walks away and leaves it right in the middle of the aisle, once again blocking my way. I put both my hands on the cart and wrestled with my demons for a solid ten seconds. At that moment in time, Toys R Us was my fucking Garden of Eden and dammit that apple looked good. The angel on my shoulder said "Just move the cart away and finish paying for those diapers and wipes." The devil on my shoulder, who was holding a fucking bullhorn, said "HURRY UP THAT BITCH IS GETTING AWAY, USE HER FUCKING ASS AS A TARGET, IF YOU LAUNCH THE CART HARD ENOUGH YOU COULD PROBABLY SEND HER FLYING RIGHT INTO THE WALL."
I clenched my body up, begged God, Goddess, Allah, Buddha, anyone who was possibly listening to give me the strength to resist temptation and not get myself thrown in jail for assault. And though it looked shaky for a moment, I won. Take that Satan! Seriously though, I am not really a violent person. Every fight I have ever been in, I was defending myself. Well, most. I've had urges like that one a few times in my life during dumb situations, but never this strong. Probably because the dumb bitch did it not once, but TWICE. And of course, since I quit smoking I couldn't even calm down with that. I miss my temper crutch.
3. I always enjoy a good flaming so... Hey some of you people bitching about Ann Coulter right now, I have two words for you: Michael Moore. If you support him while you're hating on her, then you're full of shit. Because he's about a hundred times worse than she is. Coulter talks a lot of nutjob shit that crosses the line of common decency. A large percentage of the people who read her book, probably hated her in the first place and are unlikely to be influenced by it. Michael Moore on the other hand, talks a lot of nutjob shit that crosses the line of common decency, then creates fake "documentaries" that data mine, mislead and have otherwise intelligent people walking away thinking they just watched unadulterated fact. Personally, they could both fall off a cliff and I wouldn't notice or care. But the hypocrisy is getting annoying.
4. The last 5 search strings people used to find my site were:
"Theatrical jizz for the faint of heart"
(As opposed to theatrical jizz for people who have strong constitutions.)
"How to clean tabasco sauce off bedsheets"
(That sounds... unpleasant.)
"Bandaids on her nipples"
(Just a quick sex tip, if he's on them long enough to cause chafing then it's time to move on to a different part of the body.)
"Morpheus blow jobs"
(It's a common myth that gay men prefer Neo, when it's actually that strapping black man Morpheus that gets gay men wet.)
"Patrick dempsey cereal"
(We're actually fresh out of that. But we do have these nice boxes of Andrew McCarthy cereal and Judd Nelson oatmeal if you want those.)
1. You can learn a lot from commercials. For example, I never realized it but apparently, lubrication has been lacking that certain something. And apparently, that certain something is "the ability to be sprayed on mistily."
2. Let me rant for a bit, I know so many of you enjoy it when I do that, as long as I'm not bitching about YOU. So at Toys R Us today, I was in line behind some lady. First of all, you know who deserves a nice smack upside the head? People who have to dig in their purses, backpacks, waist pouches, whatever for five minutes at the register. You stood in line for ten minutes. You knew you were going to have to pay for this shit, it wasn't going to pay for itself. And assuming you have the mathematical capabilities of a 10-year-old at least, you probably have some idea of how much the shit is going to cost. Especially if you are only buying 3 items. So why in God's name, do you not have your credit card, cash or both ready???
So this woman finally pays for her stuff and turns to walk away, leaving her cart BLOCKING THE REGISTER. Shaking off my annoyance, I push it carefully to the side, then start to move forward. She comes back and asks me "Is this my cart?" I say yes, and she takes it away, leaving me relieved that yes folks, there is some hope for humanity after all. Except that towards the end of the counter, she realizes that her husband has taken their bags and walked away, so she doesn't need the cart.
Does she take it anyway and return it to its proper cart place? No.
Does she take it and push it against the wall, out of the way? No.
Does she at least put it off to the left, so that other people can get by with their carts? No.
She walks away and leaves it right in the middle of the aisle, once again blocking my way. I put both my hands on the cart and wrestled with my demons for a solid ten seconds. At that moment in time, Toys R Us was my fucking Garden of Eden and dammit that apple looked good. The angel on my shoulder said "Just move the cart away and finish paying for those diapers and wipes." The devil on my shoulder, who was holding a fucking bullhorn, said "HURRY UP THAT BITCH IS GETTING AWAY, USE HER FUCKING ASS AS A TARGET, IF YOU LAUNCH THE CART HARD ENOUGH YOU COULD PROBABLY SEND HER FLYING RIGHT INTO THE WALL."
I clenched my body up, begged God, Goddess, Allah, Buddha, anyone who was possibly listening to give me the strength to resist temptation and not get myself thrown in jail for assault. And though it looked shaky for a moment, I won. Take that Satan! Seriously though, I am not really a violent person. Every fight I have ever been in, I was defending myself. Well, most. I've had urges like that one a few times in my life during dumb situations, but never this strong. Probably because the dumb bitch did it not once, but TWICE. And of course, since I quit smoking I couldn't even calm down with that. I miss my temper crutch.
3. I always enjoy a good flaming so... Hey some of you people bitching about Ann Coulter right now, I have two words for you: Michael Moore. If you support him while you're hating on her, then you're full of shit. Because he's about a hundred times worse than she is. Coulter talks a lot of nutjob shit that crosses the line of common decency. A large percentage of the people who read her book, probably hated her in the first place and are unlikely to be influenced by it. Michael Moore on the other hand, talks a lot of nutjob shit that crosses the line of common decency, then creates fake "documentaries" that data mine, mislead and have otherwise intelligent people walking away thinking they just watched unadulterated fact. Personally, they could both fall off a cliff and I wouldn't notice or care. But the hypocrisy is getting annoying.
4. The last 5 search strings people used to find my site were:
"Theatrical jizz for the faint of heart"
(As opposed to theatrical jizz for people who have strong constitutions.)
"How to clean tabasco sauce off bedsheets"
(That sounds... unpleasant.)
"Bandaids on her nipples"
(Just a quick sex tip, if he's on them long enough to cause chafing then it's time to move on to a different part of the body.)
"Morpheus blow jobs"
(It's a common myth that gay men prefer Neo, when it's actually that strapping black man Morpheus that gets gay men wet.)
"Patrick dempsey cereal"
(We're actually fresh out of that. But we do have these nice boxes of Andrew McCarthy cereal and Judd Nelson oatmeal if you want those.)
June 2, 2006
Asshole Gate Opener
Asshole Gate Opener
Earlier today, someone let my dogs out. I don't know whether it was intentional or they were just trying to sneak into my yard, saw the dogs and freaked out. But when I went outside to see if they needed more water, the gate was wide open. And since the gate had been closed when I put the dogs into the backyard, and since my dogs don't have fingers, I can only assume someone let them out. Probably those punkass kids that walk by, throwing bottles at them. People think jails are crowded now, but if these kids are the future then they're going to be a hell of a lot more crowded in a few years.
I yelled for my aunt to keep an eye on the girls, locked the back door behind me and ran to the gate. My dogs were hanging out across the street. I looked down at Geo's size 9 men's slippers on my size 4 boys feet and debated for a moment whether I had time to change into running shoes. At which point Idiot Dog #1 took off down the street, thus making the decision for me. I chased down Idiot Dog #2 since he was closer and tossed him back into the backyard. Then I took off down the street in pursuit of Idiot Dog #1.
He goes down one street, crosses another, and zig-zags back and forth across another street. All the while I am chasing him, in my too big fucking slippers, and throwing my body into traffic so people will slow down and not accidentally hit him. Yes, I am an even bigger idiot than either of my two dogs. People are scattering left and right like we're a couple of velociraptors, because they're scared of my 85 lb dog. Ten minutes later, I chase him into a gated parking lot. A woman is waiting in her car, about to pull out, but she sees that Idiot Dog #1 will bolt out if she leaves so she kindly waits. I spend the next 15 minutes, running around after the dog, trying to make him tired, while I myself am tripping over my slippers and gasping for air in the heat and humidity. And apologizing profusely to the woman who is sitting in her car, watching me sympathetically.
Finally, he makes the unwise move of running into this long corner (he'll never be a General) and when he tries to bolt, I pin him between my legs like fucking Xena the Warrior Princess and wedge my hand under his collar. He starts thrashing around, trying to dislodge me but I win the skirmish and start dragging him in the direction of my house. I exit the parking lot, making sure to re-open the heavy ass gate all the way, so the woman who has been patiently waiting can get out. All the while my 85-lb dog is thrashing around, trying to get away from my 110-lb self. A futile effort. What my dog didn't know then but knows now, is that I am freakishly strong when I'm feeling normal, and even more so when I'm in the grips of what can only be described as undiluted, all-encompassing rage.
The rage wasn't directed at Idiot Dog #1, who was just being a dog. The rage was directed at whoever let them out, and all the idiot people who were watching me and making comments like "You should use a leash." No shit dumbass, I'm wearing slippers twice the size of my feet and boxer shorts while dragging my demon dog back towards the house. Does it look like we're out for a fucking Friday afternoon stroll?
I love the ghetto. Love it. Stupid piece of shit fucking place with stupid piece of shit fucking people who let fucking dogs out. Except the woman in the parking lot. Her, I like a whole lot.
Earlier today, someone let my dogs out. I don't know whether it was intentional or they were just trying to sneak into my yard, saw the dogs and freaked out. But when I went outside to see if they needed more water, the gate was wide open. And since the gate had been closed when I put the dogs into the backyard, and since my dogs don't have fingers, I can only assume someone let them out. Probably those punkass kids that walk by, throwing bottles at them. People think jails are crowded now, but if these kids are the future then they're going to be a hell of a lot more crowded in a few years.
I yelled for my aunt to keep an eye on the girls, locked the back door behind me and ran to the gate. My dogs were hanging out across the street. I looked down at Geo's size 9 men's slippers on my size 4 boys feet and debated for a moment whether I had time to change into running shoes. At which point Idiot Dog #1 took off down the street, thus making the decision for me. I chased down Idiot Dog #2 since he was closer and tossed him back into the backyard. Then I took off down the street in pursuit of Idiot Dog #1.
He goes down one street, crosses another, and zig-zags back and forth across another street. All the while I am chasing him, in my too big fucking slippers, and throwing my body into traffic so people will slow down and not accidentally hit him. Yes, I am an even bigger idiot than either of my two dogs. People are scattering left and right like we're a couple of velociraptors, because they're scared of my 85 lb dog. Ten minutes later, I chase him into a gated parking lot. A woman is waiting in her car, about to pull out, but she sees that Idiot Dog #1 will bolt out if she leaves so she kindly waits. I spend the next 15 minutes, running around after the dog, trying to make him tired, while I myself am tripping over my slippers and gasping for air in the heat and humidity. And apologizing profusely to the woman who is sitting in her car, watching me sympathetically.
Finally, he makes the unwise move of running into this long corner (he'll never be a General) and when he tries to bolt, I pin him between my legs like fucking Xena the Warrior Princess and wedge my hand under his collar. He starts thrashing around, trying to dislodge me but I win the skirmish and start dragging him in the direction of my house. I exit the parking lot, making sure to re-open the heavy ass gate all the way, so the woman who has been patiently waiting can get out. All the while my 85-lb dog is thrashing around, trying to get away from my 110-lb self. A futile effort. What my dog didn't know then but knows now, is that I am freakishly strong when I'm feeling normal, and even more so when I'm in the grips of what can only be described as undiluted, all-encompassing rage.
The rage wasn't directed at Idiot Dog #1, who was just being a dog. The rage was directed at whoever let them out, and all the idiot people who were watching me and making comments like "You should use a leash." No shit dumbass, I'm wearing slippers twice the size of my feet and boxer shorts while dragging my demon dog back towards the house. Does it look like we're out for a fucking Friday afternoon stroll?
I love the ghetto. Love it. Stupid piece of shit fucking place with stupid piece of shit fucking people who let fucking dogs out. Except the woman in the parking lot. Her, I like a whole lot.
May 4, 2006
Flipping the Bird and Cubicle Pet Peeves
Flipping the Bird and Cubicle Pet Peeves
But first... If I were a movie character, I'd never listen to opera. People in movies always die while they're listening to opera. Apparently it attracts people with guns. I love opera so I'd totally be that person offed during the eighth line of "O Mio Babbino Caro."
My friend Deb's friend Chris and his sponsors are donating 50 cents to a couple cancer research charities every time someone sends in a picture of themselves giving the finger, as part of their "Flip Cancer The Bird" campaign. I'm on board!
Anyway, Nicole asked people what their cubicle pet peeves were and my response in her comments was so long I decided to repost it here:
1. When someone comes up behind you and stays quiet because they're watching you do something unimportant. Okay what, you need fricken proof that I do nothing all day, for self-validation?
2. There was this chick who used to sit across from me and blab on the phone all the live long day (and believe me, once she moved to that cube the days became longer indeed) about Survivor of all things. Jesus. At least pick a show the people around you like. Sometimes I'd stare at my pencil and wonder if killing her with it was worth the time in prison. What if the chick in the cell next to me watches Survivor. That'd be some fucked up shit right there.
3. People who walk by and set things on your cubicle. What is this, a rest stop? Get your coffee off my cubicle before it spills onto all this work I haven't done because I've been e-mailing friends porn all day.
4. Friends who come by and talk about personal things REALLY LOUD. I mean hello, at least keep up the appearance that we're chatting about work and not how this guy you went out with last night makes Tommy Lee look like he went for a swim in December.
5. People who make cracks about the stuff decorating your cubicle. What, do I come over to yours and say shit like "Wow... there's nothing here. You must have no life, no friends and no personality."
6. People who stand in your cubicle's um, driveway and have personal conversations that don't include you. Yes it's technically a public place but would you have a picnic on your neighbor's sidewalk?
7. Those almost-friends who come by yet have nothing to say are a tad annoying. It's like they either want you to entertain them like a unicycle-riding monkey OR they have some sort of ulterior motive. Like scoping out someone a few cubicles away. Hey I'll help you do ass recon (quietly), but let me know what the gameplan is okay?
8. When your boss decides to stand at your cube and ream you for something. At least have the decency to do it in your office. But no, that would defeat the purpose, which is to remind everyone in hearing distance that you are THE BOSS and I am THE PEON. Really though all it does is remind people that you are THE TOOL and I am THE ONE WHO WILL BE QUITTING SOON.
9. People who talk on speaker phone all the damn time. Unless you are actively defusing a bomb (in which case let me know so I can get the fuck out of the building), there should be no cause for this. Not even if you are on a conference call. That's what the conference rooms are for. Conferences.
10. Guys who walk by your cubicle eight times a day while checking you out, and maintain eye contact the entire time. What do they think, that we're in some seventies pron flick. That maybe after the third or fourth time I'll get up, start taking my clothes off and say "Why don't I help you with those copies." Two seconds tops is all we should be look sharing, as you stroll by my territory.
I have to add more based on the comments:
11. When you're sitting in your cubicle eating lunch, and someone comes up to talk to you about work. It's bad enough they're interrupting your meal but to interrupt it to talk about work compounds the grievance. It already sucks that I wasn't able to take an actual lunch break, now this person has to make me talk about the quarterly budget meeting while my burger and fries sit there getting cold? Plus there are few things grosser than cold fast food. It's like the heat is the only thing keeping the taste and texture in.
12. People who make a production out of work discussions. Non-coincidentally, these are also the same people who use crappy office terminology.
But first... If I were a movie character, I'd never listen to opera. People in movies always die while they're listening to opera. Apparently it attracts people with guns. I love opera so I'd totally be that person offed during the eighth line of "O Mio Babbino Caro."
My friend Deb's friend Chris and his sponsors are donating 50 cents to a couple cancer research charities every time someone sends in a picture of themselves giving the finger, as part of their "Flip Cancer The Bird" campaign. I'm on board!
Please forgive the just-woke-upingness.
And obviously, that is the much vaunted Orange Bang shirt.
Anyway, Nicole asked people what their cubicle pet peeves were and my response in her comments was so long I decided to repost it here:
1. When someone comes up behind you and stays quiet because they're watching you do something unimportant. Okay what, you need fricken proof that I do nothing all day, for self-validation?
2. There was this chick who used to sit across from me and blab on the phone all the live long day (and believe me, once she moved to that cube the days became longer indeed) about Survivor of all things. Jesus. At least pick a show the people around you like. Sometimes I'd stare at my pencil and wonder if killing her with it was worth the time in prison. What if the chick in the cell next to me watches Survivor. That'd be some fucked up shit right there.
3. People who walk by and set things on your cubicle. What is this, a rest stop? Get your coffee off my cubicle before it spills onto all this work I haven't done because I've been e-mailing friends porn all day.
4. Friends who come by and talk about personal things REALLY LOUD. I mean hello, at least keep up the appearance that we're chatting about work and not how this guy you went out with last night makes Tommy Lee look like he went for a swim in December.
5. People who make cracks about the stuff decorating your cubicle. What, do I come over to yours and say shit like "Wow... there's nothing here. You must have no life, no friends and no personality."
6. People who stand in your cubicle's um, driveway and have personal conversations that don't include you. Yes it's technically a public place but would you have a picnic on your neighbor's sidewalk?
7. Those almost-friends who come by yet have nothing to say are a tad annoying. It's like they either want you to entertain them like a unicycle-riding monkey OR they have some sort of ulterior motive. Like scoping out someone a few cubicles away. Hey I'll help you do ass recon (quietly), but let me know what the gameplan is okay?
8. When your boss decides to stand at your cube and ream you for something. At least have the decency to do it in your office. But no, that would defeat the purpose, which is to remind everyone in hearing distance that you are THE BOSS and I am THE PEON. Really though all it does is remind people that you are THE TOOL and I am THE ONE WHO WILL BE QUITTING SOON.
9. People who talk on speaker phone all the damn time. Unless you are actively defusing a bomb (in which case let me know so I can get the fuck out of the building), there should be no cause for this. Not even if you are on a conference call. That's what the conference rooms are for. Conferences.
10. Guys who walk by your cubicle eight times a day while checking you out, and maintain eye contact the entire time. What do they think, that we're in some seventies pron flick. That maybe after the third or fourth time I'll get up, start taking my clothes off and say "Why don't I help you with those copies." Two seconds tops is all we should be look sharing, as you stroll by my territory.
I have to add more based on the comments:
11. When you're sitting in your cubicle eating lunch, and someone comes up to talk to you about work. It's bad enough they're interrupting your meal but to interrupt it to talk about work compounds the grievance. It already sucks that I wasn't able to take an actual lunch break, now this person has to make me talk about the quarterly budget meeting while my burger and fries sit there getting cold? Plus there are few things grosser than cold fast food. It's like the heat is the only thing keeping the taste and texture in.
12. People who make a production out of work discussions. Non-coincidentally, these are also the same people who use crappy office terminology.
April 12, 2006
Tequila Shots For The Radio: Volume 4
Tequila Shots For The Radio: Chapter 4
It only took four shows but I finally had one with no technical difficulties. Either that or they were small enough that I'm pretending not to have noticed them. Woot! Last night's show is available for download here, courtesy of Ginger who I now owe 949238660238460 jillion kilobytes of bandwidth to. Is that even what you measure bandwidth in?
Anyhoo, the musical theme of the show was "Songs That Are Good To Strip To." I'm speaking generally for people who wish to strip for monetary or recreational purposes. Not that I actually mount a stage and start peeling off the layers. Or rather, layer. It's kind of funny how at strip clubs, the women get on the stage in like a G-string and two gum wrappers tied together then proceed to take off the gum wrappers and ta-da, they've stripped. Stripping is a lost art. If I were a stripper I'd come onto the stage in a snowsuit and thermals over my thong and gum wrappers.
Highlights:
I started off the show with some gripes, just to get them off my chest before the happiness started:
I like being female. For all that people spend all day long talking about the disadvantages I see nothing but advantages. But, if I were to grow a penis for a day these are some of the things I'd do:
1. Nail someone. Man, woman, sheep. If it moves I'm hittin it.
2. Jerk off. All over someone. Man, woman, sheep. If it moves I'm hittin it.
3. Get a blowjob. From a guy and a girl. Simultaneously.
4. Go to the men's room and check out my friends' penises. Gloat and take pictures if mine's bigger.
Dave at onemillionblogs.net offered me a free square a few months ago when he was just starting his mosaic of blogs. I accepted because I'm Filipino and the word "free" is like magic. Yes, I take home hotel bottles of shampoo and lotion. Anyway, he gave me the very first square and one of the benefits is that I got a nice in-depth profile on the Million Blogs blog. Woot!
And Happy Birthday Ty!!!!
Kwam has reminded me that apparently the best part of the show, was when I got sidetracked by the EVIL, EVIL chat room heathens into singing random TV show theme songs. "Here we are.. face to face... a couple of silver spoons.."
It only took four shows but I finally had one with no technical difficulties. Either that or they were small enough that I'm pretending not to have noticed them. Woot! Last night's show is available for download here, courtesy of Ginger who I now owe 949238660238460 jillion kilobytes of bandwidth to. Is that even what you measure bandwidth in?
Anyhoo, the musical theme of the show was "Songs That Are Good To Strip To." I'm speaking generally for people who wish to strip for monetary or recreational purposes. Not that I actually mount a stage and start peeling off the layers. Or rather, layer. It's kind of funny how at strip clubs, the women get on the stage in like a G-string and two gum wrappers tied together then proceed to take off the gum wrappers and ta-da, they've stripped. Stripping is a lost art. If I were a stripper I'd come onto the stage in a snowsuit and thermals over my thong and gum wrappers.
Highlights:
I started off the show with some gripes, just to get them off my chest before the happiness started:
- Someone needs to explain to me why even though my house is always cold, the monthly PSE&G bills are more expensive than black market kidneys and little adoptable Chinese babies.
- "Antibiotics" is apparently pharmaceutical code for "magic fairy tears produced in the depths of the Amazon jungle" because my little white out-sized bottle of it cost $35.
- My neighbor had concrete laid down in her yard last week. Without asking permission, her workers proceeded to use our backyard to store all the garbage that was in hers, including 6 doors, roofing, sharp metal pieces and a toilet from the apartment that was so filthy it should have been condemned. They were going to leave it there "for awhile" until I let my neighbor know that it was unacceptable and that they needed to THROW IT AWAY. This only happens in the ghetto by the way. People in Scarsdale don't look outside their windows and see nasty ass toilets.
- The Super Size menu is gone at McDonald's. I don't understand why food has to be more expensive to prevent people from eating. Next we're going to see a tax on regular mayo versus fat free mayo. Thank you Michael Moore. How about instead of attacking McDonald's you eat a fucking salad next time, instead of a double cheeseburger. When I want to lose weight I just DON'T GO to McDonald's. Or Burger King. Or Taco Bell. It's as simple as that. Anyone who tells you it's not is lying.
I like being female. For all that people spend all day long talking about the disadvantages I see nothing but advantages. But, if I were to grow a penis for a day these are some of the things I'd do:
1. Nail someone. Man, woman, sheep. If it moves I'm hittin it.
2. Jerk off. All over someone. Man, woman, sheep. If it moves I'm hittin it.
3. Get a blowjob. From a guy and a girl. Simultaneously.
4. Go to the men's room and check out my friends' penises. Gloat and take pictures if mine's bigger.
Dave at onemillionblogs.net offered me a free square a few months ago when he was just starting his mosaic of blogs. I accepted because I'm Filipino and the word "free" is like magic. Yes, I take home hotel bottles of shampoo and lotion. Anyway, he gave me the very first square and one of the benefits is that I got a nice in-depth profile on the Million Blogs blog. Woot!
And Happy Birthday Ty!!!!
Kwam has reminded me that apparently the best part of the show, was when I got sidetracked by the EVIL, EVIL chat room heathens into singing random TV show theme songs. "Here we are.. face to face... a couple of silver spoons.."
February 4, 2006
Fatality
Fatality
My first instinct about this whole mess regarding the Muslim cartoon outrage is to laugh. But then it's followed by annoyed resignation concerning all the problems that have resulted and will yet result from it. The Muslims want an apology from... "The West." I wonder if I get to speak for "The West" since I live in "The West."
"Sorry Muslims, that your fucking panties are in a fucking bunch. On behalf of those goddamn Danish people, who should have stuck to making pastries by the way, The West apologizes. Now give us your oil."
Guess we won't seeing a "Piss Mohammed" art exhibit anytime soon. Now the Peaceful Muslims will bomb discos and shopping malls in a fit of cartoon-inspired-pique. And we "turn the other cheek" Christians will hit back. And the Jews will-- who cares. You guys killed Jesus. We're all still mad about that. I don't understand why Muslims should get special treatment when it comes to shit like this. The media in various countries portray religious Christian icons in blasphemous scenarios all the time. People bitch but get over it. I also don't understand why Muslims are clinging to the idea that they're a peaceful bunch. The average Christian on the street at least admits we sack infidel cities like it's nobody's business, and have been since medieval times. Cartoons depicting Mohammed are foul but throwing candy in the street because people flew planes into the World Trade Center, that's appropriate. They're like those crazy people that think bombing an abortion clinic is justified.
It does make me laugh though how the various religions (and our political parties) never make complete sense.
Conservatives:
Stem cell research -- NOT OKAY
Invitro-fertilization -- OKAY (Although I admit, it's a bit crazy how people can pretty much choose to have twins or triplets or quintiplets now. And the idea of harvesting fully-grown humans for organs is a tad sickening. Unless I need one of those organs. Then it's splendiferous!)
Liberals:
Words "Under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance -- NOT OKAY
Muslim extremists deliberately bombing civilian places because people in some country DREW A PICTURE of their God -- OTAY!
Let's move on to what's really funny. Like this story about some guy who tripped and fell at a museum, shattering a priceless 17th century Qing vase. Whenever I'm at museums I always wonder what would happen if a patron broke something. And now I know... nothing. They don't even release your name to the public so that everyone can torment you for the rest of your life, like those fans that interfere with crucial baseball plays and get booed out of the stadium, then shown on the news 800 times. Okay I am laughing my head off picturing some art lover getting pelted with brie on melba toast and glasses of Haut Brion.
More funny news, is the story of the Warriors PR person who got fired for sending inappropriate e-mails. I got pron-filled e-mails about 12 times a day, from co-workers, superiors, PR team reps. I walked into a PR director's office once, and there were about ten guys in there watching pron, with two of the team PR reps on conference call. Not to mention the women that used to come by the media office looking for tickets, because team PR personnel met them at the hotel the night before and promised them All-Star Game tickets that don't exist. Ahhh the wonderful world of public relations. Off with his head!
And on to the most important news of the century...
24, The Video game, is coming soon to a PS2 near you.
Word. They should make it like Grand Theft Auto. Then I could just take Kim into one of those special rooms and "interrogate" her for a few hours. With a shovel.
My first instinct about this whole mess regarding the Muslim cartoon outrage is to laugh. But then it's followed by annoyed resignation concerning all the problems that have resulted and will yet result from it. The Muslims want an apology from... "The West." I wonder if I get to speak for "The West" since I live in "The West."
"Sorry Muslims, that your fucking panties are in a fucking bunch. On behalf of those goddamn Danish people, who should have stuck to making pastries by the way, The West apologizes. Now give us your oil."
Guess we won't seeing a "Piss Mohammed" art exhibit anytime soon. Now the Peaceful Muslims will bomb discos and shopping malls in a fit of cartoon-inspired-pique. And we "turn the other cheek" Christians will hit back. And the Jews will-- who cares. You guys killed Jesus. We're all still mad about that. I don't understand why Muslims should get special treatment when it comes to shit like this. The media in various countries portray religious Christian icons in blasphemous scenarios all the time. People bitch but get over it. I also don't understand why Muslims are clinging to the idea that they're a peaceful bunch. The average Christian on the street at least admits we sack infidel cities like it's nobody's business, and have been since medieval times. Cartoons depicting Mohammed are foul but throwing candy in the street because people flew planes into the World Trade Center, that's appropriate. They're like those crazy people that think bombing an abortion clinic is justified.
It does make me laugh though how the various religions (and our political parties) never make complete sense.
Conservatives:
Stem cell research -- NOT OKAY
Invitro-fertilization -- OKAY (Although I admit, it's a bit crazy how people can pretty much choose to have twins or triplets or quintiplets now. And the idea of harvesting fully-grown humans for organs is a tad sickening. Unless I need one of those organs. Then it's splendiferous!)
Liberals:
Words "Under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance -- NOT OKAY
Muslim extremists deliberately bombing civilian places because people in some country DREW A PICTURE of their God -- OTAY!
Let's move on to what's really funny. Like this story about some guy who tripped and fell at a museum, shattering a priceless 17th century Qing vase. Whenever I'm at museums I always wonder what would happen if a patron broke something. And now I know... nothing. They don't even release your name to the public so that everyone can torment you for the rest of your life, like those fans that interfere with crucial baseball plays and get booed out of the stadium, then shown on the news 800 times. Okay I am laughing my head off picturing some art lover getting pelted with brie on melba toast and glasses of Haut Brion.
More funny news, is the story of the Warriors PR person who got fired for sending inappropriate e-mails. I got pron-filled e-mails about 12 times a day, from co-workers, superiors, PR team reps. I walked into a PR director's office once, and there were about ten guys in there watching pron, with two of the team PR reps on conference call. Not to mention the women that used to come by the media office looking for tickets, because team PR personnel met them at the hotel the night before and promised them All-Star Game tickets that don't exist. Ahhh the wonderful world of public relations. Off with his head!
And on to the most important news of the century...
24, The Video game, is coming soon to a PS2 near you.
Kwame says: "Riss would never beat this game
because she would make sure Kim dies."
Word. They should make it like Grand Theft Auto. Then I could just take Kim into one of those special rooms and "interrogate" her for a few hours. With a shovel.
December 7, 2005
Office Sherpas
Office Sherpas
One of my friends was on the phone this morning, complaining about her job. She finishes her work fast, despite the fact that she has the most to do, so they doubled her workload. There won't be a raise and the bonuses/promotions will still be nonexistent. I told her that before she quit in indignant rage, to consider the possibility that many corporations employ a similar philosophy. She might just jump out of the frying pan and into the fire. Like I did way back when.
Which led to retrospective job angst. Just for a moment though, until I could remind myself that those days were behind me.
Back in 1997 I started working for a company, we'll call it the Bational Nasketball Association. They hired me as one of the low-paid sherpas who do the grunt work at the bottom of the company ladder. For two years I labored in their Public Relations department, working over 70 hours a week for some of the rudest people on the planet. The kind that think anyone beneath them isn't an actual person, but some kind of wild animal to keep around the farm because it eats rodents. While I and others worked and worked, smarter people left and their responsibilities were divvied up between the remaining employees. Because why pay new people to come and work for the company, when you can just dump their work on the people left.
In the spring of 1999, two higher positions opened up in my department. One of them was doing what I had already been doing for the department, and doing well according to my evaluations. They didn't even tell me about the open positions. They hired two recent college grads with NO WORK EXPERIENCE and I trained them. To do a job with a better title and more pay. Does the Bational Nasketball Association have balls of pure fucking steel or what? Or should I say, nalls of steel. I understood one of their hires, his father was THE sports editor for a major New York newspaper. Nepotism is a fact of life in Corporate America. But the other person hired didn't know a single thing about basketball and she would be responsible for web content. So... no work experience, no college degree from a top college and no basketball knowledge, but still hired over someone who had been helping create content for um, BNA.com for two years. And lest you think the degree did it, I have one as well. Except I graduated in 1997, not 1999.
I was steaming, but now it became some sort of mission. A smarter person would have fled the company too fast to let the door hit her ass on the way out. I however, doubled my efforts to get a promotion. But when the next round of positions opened, it was obvious they weren't even considering me. One of the managers pulled me aside and said it was the curse of the competent, she went through it herself until she left her old company. I had always known it but hearing it out loud opened the floodgates and the bitterness set in. A month later, I sat through one of their fake "hiring from within" interviews and went through the motions, knowing there was as much a point to it as there was to arranging my pens by height order.
They let the newest manager clue me in that "my attitude in the last month" was the reason I wasn't being considered for the promotion. Hmm... and what was the reason for all the other times, in the two years that my attitude was perfect? But yes, the guy telling me all this used to leave his door open during work hours and exclaim in great detail how great sucking dick was. So his attitude was a lot better than mine. The head of another department noticed my misery and picked me off the way a lion indentifies the limping zebra in a herd. I took the promotion into his department, but not until the head of my own took me out "to discuss my work needs" and I managed to put an entire bottle of wine on her tab.
Moving into the new department was like moving from a sinking ship, into the water. You tread water and hope, until you realize you're going to drown with imploding lungs. But that's a story for another day.
One of my friends was on the phone this morning, complaining about her job. She finishes her work fast, despite the fact that she has the most to do, so they doubled her workload. There won't be a raise and the bonuses/promotions will still be nonexistent. I told her that before she quit in indignant rage, to consider the possibility that many corporations employ a similar philosophy. She might just jump out of the frying pan and into the fire. Like I did way back when.
Which led to retrospective job angst. Just for a moment though, until I could remind myself that those days were behind me.
Back in 1997 I started working for a company, we'll call it the Bational Nasketball Association. They hired me as one of the low-paid sherpas who do the grunt work at the bottom of the company ladder. For two years I labored in their Public Relations department, working over 70 hours a week for some of the rudest people on the planet. The kind that think anyone beneath them isn't an actual person, but some kind of wild animal to keep around the farm because it eats rodents. While I and others worked and worked, smarter people left and their responsibilities were divvied up between the remaining employees. Because why pay new people to come and work for the company, when you can just dump their work on the people left.
In the spring of 1999, two higher positions opened up in my department. One of them was doing what I had already been doing for the department, and doing well according to my evaluations. They didn't even tell me about the open positions. They hired two recent college grads with NO WORK EXPERIENCE and I trained them. To do a job with a better title and more pay. Does the Bational Nasketball Association have balls of pure fucking steel or what? Or should I say, nalls of steel. I understood one of their hires, his father was THE sports editor for a major New York newspaper. Nepotism is a fact of life in Corporate America. But the other person hired didn't know a single thing about basketball and she would be responsible for web content. So... no work experience, no college degree from a top college and no basketball knowledge, but still hired over someone who had been helping create content for um, BNA.com for two years. And lest you think the degree did it, I have one as well. Except I graduated in 1997, not 1999.
I was steaming, but now it became some sort of mission. A smarter person would have fled the company too fast to let the door hit her ass on the way out. I however, doubled my efforts to get a promotion. But when the next round of positions opened, it was obvious they weren't even considering me. One of the managers pulled me aside and said it was the curse of the competent, she went through it herself until she left her old company. I had always known it but hearing it out loud opened the floodgates and the bitterness set in. A month later, I sat through one of their fake "hiring from within" interviews and went through the motions, knowing there was as much a point to it as there was to arranging my pens by height order.
They let the newest manager clue me in that "my attitude in the last month" was the reason I wasn't being considered for the promotion. Hmm... and what was the reason for all the other times, in the two years that my attitude was perfect? But yes, the guy telling me all this used to leave his door open during work hours and exclaim in great detail how great sucking dick was. So his attitude was a lot better than mine. The head of another department noticed my misery and picked me off the way a lion indentifies the limping zebra in a herd. I took the promotion into his department, but not until the head of my own took me out "to discuss my work needs" and I managed to put an entire bottle of wine on her tab.
Moving into the new department was like moving from a sinking ship, into the water. You tread water and hope, until you realize you're going to drown with imploding lungs. But that's a story for another day.
December 6, 2005
Cops in Movies, Commonality, Crappy Kids Stuff
Cops in Movies, Commonality, Crappy Kids Stuff
Ever wonder how people as fucked in the head as Paris Hilton are created? Here's your answer. Although eventually it comes down to personal choice to act a certain way, Mommy and Daddy start the avalanche. The Paris Hiltons of this world aren't born, they're raised.
An old Steven Seagal movie was on last night and it made me wonder a few things. How come cops in movies and on television always wear "the wire" on their chest, where it is inevitably discovered? Do real life cops wear it there as well? How come they don't just stuff it down their crotch, where the big macho bad guy probably won't care to look? I assume they have microphones strong enough to work from down there. Also, how come cops in movies screech up to places, park the car sideways, then try and act nonchalant while walking into the establishment?
Kwame and I have weekly 24 and Nip/Tuck phone sessions, depending on which one is in season. And the combined power of him, Abel, Audrey and Paul got me on the Lost bandwagon. I banged out Season One in four nights after the kids went to bed. Who needs sleep when you can watch people get attacked by polar bears and monsters and wild boar and random people. Anyway, I need a Desperate Housewives call friend, one who preferably watches Grey's Anatomy too. Apply within. By the way, I hope Lost isn't going the way of Michael Crichton's Sphere. That would be a rip-off.
Ray did a post awhile back on the commonality of him and his boyfriend Matt. So here are me and Geo's percentages:
Height - Geo 80 / Riss 20
Athletic ability - Geo 50 / Riss 50 (I can beat Geo in tennis, but he can beat me up. He was raised in Jersey City so he knows all my dirty tricks. We can both catch and throw long and fairly tight spirals . I have a better outside shot but he has a better lay-up.)
Patience - Geo 80 / Riss 20 (That missing 20% happens when he's in his car.)
Affinity for music - Geo 50 / Riss 50
Ability to maintain while drunk- Geo 60 / Riss 40 (Geo gets 20 more percentage points because he rarely gets drunk, but when he's drunk he talks shit really loud as if no one but us can hear. "Hey Riss, look at that stripper, her hair looks like yarn." Meanwhile, she's two feet away.)
Ability to remember things - Geo 20 / Riss 80 (As you can imagine, this is especially annoying for Geo when we fight.)
Cooking ability - Geo 60 / Riss 40 (I've gotten better since I got knocked up. It's one thing for me and Geo to be eating Captain Crunch for dinner, but kids need actual food.)
Obsessive compulsive habits - Geo 30 / Riss 70 (I alphabetize my DVDs but I'm getting better. They used to be alphabetized according to genre.)
People keep asking what they should get the girls for Christmas. So I started browsing around and came across these two Baby Bratz dolls. They were twin dolls so I clicked the link. Um eeew. Now I realize why Geo doesn't mind the Bratz line of dolls but hates the Baby Bratz ones. They're a pedophile's toy dream come true. The babies wear make-up and come with diapers and SHEER THONGS. Excuse me, I have a little bit of throw-up in the back of my throat. May as well segue into my newest rant.
While shopping for presents the other day, I walked into a store which caters to adolescent and teenage girls. Apparently the in thing these days are shirts with random statements on them. Most are stupid, but there are funny ones out there. I noticed that one particular shirt was almost sold out while there were stacks of the others. The shirt was pink and said "I'm too pretty to do math." That's nice. At least we're teaching them early to grow up and be idiots. Or whores. The other shirts said things like "I like boys with money." If one of my daughters ever came home wearing a shirt that said "Gold-digger" I'd be like "You better be telling me you got a fucking job in a mine."
Ever wonder how people as fucked in the head as Paris Hilton are created? Here's your answer. Although eventually it comes down to personal choice to act a certain way, Mommy and Daddy start the avalanche. The Paris Hiltons of this world aren't born, they're raised.
An old Steven Seagal movie was on last night and it made me wonder a few things. How come cops in movies and on television always wear "the wire" on their chest, where it is inevitably discovered? Do real life cops wear it there as well? How come they don't just stuff it down their crotch, where the big macho bad guy probably won't care to look? I assume they have microphones strong enough to work from down there. Also, how come cops in movies screech up to places, park the car sideways, then try and act nonchalant while walking into the establishment?
Kwame and I have weekly 24 and Nip/Tuck phone sessions, depending on which one is in season. And the combined power of him, Abel, Audrey and Paul got me on the Lost bandwagon. I banged out Season One in four nights after the kids went to bed. Who needs sleep when you can watch people get attacked by polar bears and monsters and wild boar and random people. Anyway, I need a Desperate Housewives call friend, one who preferably watches Grey's Anatomy too. Apply within. By the way, I hope Lost isn't going the way of Michael Crichton's Sphere. That would be a rip-off.
Ray did a post awhile back on the commonality of him and his boyfriend Matt. So here are me and Geo's percentages:
Height - Geo 80 / Riss 20
Athletic ability - Geo 50 / Riss 50 (I can beat Geo in tennis, but he can beat me up. He was raised in Jersey City so he knows all my dirty tricks. We can both catch and throw long and fairly tight spirals . I have a better outside shot but he has a better lay-up.)
Patience - Geo 80 / Riss 20 (That missing 20% happens when he's in his car.)
Affinity for music - Geo 50 / Riss 50
Ability to maintain while drunk- Geo 60 / Riss 40 (Geo gets 20 more percentage points because he rarely gets drunk, but when he's drunk he talks shit really loud as if no one but us can hear. "Hey Riss, look at that stripper, her hair looks like yarn." Meanwhile, she's two feet away.)
Ability to remember things - Geo 20 / Riss 80 (As you can imagine, this is especially annoying for Geo when we fight.)
Cooking ability - Geo 60 / Riss 40 (I've gotten better since I got knocked up. It's one thing for me and Geo to be eating Captain Crunch for dinner, but kids need actual food.)
Obsessive compulsive habits - Geo 30 / Riss 70 (I alphabetize my DVDs but I'm getting better. They used to be alphabetized according to genre.)
People keep asking what they should get the girls for Christmas. So I started browsing around and came across these two Baby Bratz dolls. They were twin dolls so I clicked the link. Um eeew. Now I realize why Geo doesn't mind the Bratz line of dolls but hates the Baby Bratz ones. They're a pedophile's toy dream come true. The babies wear make-up and come with diapers and SHEER THONGS. Excuse me, I have a little bit of throw-up in the back of my throat. May as well segue into my newest rant.
While shopping for presents the other day, I walked into a store which caters to adolescent and teenage girls. Apparently the in thing these days are shirts with random statements on them. Most are stupid, but there are funny ones out there. I noticed that one particular shirt was almost sold out while there were stacks of the others. The shirt was pink and said "I'm too pretty to do math." That's nice. At least we're teaching them early to grow up and be idiots. Or whores. The other shirts said things like "I like boys with money." If one of my daughters ever came home wearing a shirt that said "Gold-digger" I'd be like "You better be telling me you got a fucking job in a mine."
November 26, 2005
Black Friday Madness
Black Friday Madness
I'm only posting now because it's taken me 38 hours to recuperate. Geo and I were in desperate need of a new TV, so we decided to brave the crowds at Best Buy on the morning of Black Friday. With the precision of soldiers planning to storm a well-fortified stronghold, we identified the Best Buy in East Hanover as the one most likely to have the least amount of early birds. The one in Secaucus is in close proximity to Newark and Jersey City, while the one in Union is in the middle of Route 22, the consumer capital of central Jersey. The store opened at 5 so we planned to leave the house by 2 a.m.
On Wednesday night, after a plateful of garlic mashed potatoes, stuffing, turkey, sauteed onions and bell peppers, Geo and the kids went to bed early. I on the other hand, decided to drink a crapload of rum. For practical purposes of course, to keep my body temperature high while waiting for two hours in 19 degree weather. We got to Best Buy a little before 3 a.m. and there was a line in place, wrapping around the fricken building. Every Best Buy was only promising a minimum stock of TWO of the televisions we wanted, and there were about 60 people ahead of us. After a quick conference ("Fuck it, we're here already") we got in line. It was colder than a witch's ears. I would have said tit but you know, those never really get ice cold. So it makes no sense that a witch's tit, despite her overall body temperature, would be colder than her ears. But I digress.
We stood around shaking for an hour, then cheerful Best Buy employees began handing out reservation tickets for the popular items. Naturally, our television wasn't one of them. Luckily though, this served to weed out a bunch of people in front of us, who left when they realized they weren't going to get their $350 Toshiba laptops. The thing that cracked me up the most was how close-mouthed people in line were about what exactly they were planning to buy. Geo and I did it as well. Even though the item was on the advertisement that over a 150 people were currently thumbing through. Whenever we spoke to the people around us it was always "what we came here to get" instead of "the $390 widescreen HDTV." International spies are more forthcoming with their plans. By the way, it's fun to stand in line on Black Friday and say things like "What's this line for?" Or, "I'm only waiting here to get Shrek 2 for 6 bucks."
At 4:45, the Best Buy people started getting ready to open their doors. That's when about 60 people bum rushed from the side, who hadn't waited in line. Fuckers. I was getting seriously pissed as I saw that after waiting in the freezing cold for 2 hours, instead of being the 50th person or so through the doors, we were about to be the 100th. So I grabbed Geo and started insinuating us through cracks and between people until we were nearer to the front. It's like sex. The key is to slip through holes, not bang psychotically against people until you get lucky. The doors opened and as planned Geo went straight to the television section while I detoured through the DVDs to pick up Shrek 2 (Thought I was kidding? Remember who plays Puss In Boots?)
When I got to the TVs, Geo was the fourth person in line to order. The guy in front of him was one of the people who had cut the line and if he had ordered "our" TV I seriously might have started an all-out rumble. I was packing... a granola bar, some cough drops and Burt's Bees chapstick. MacGuyver could have totally built weaponry with that. But he got something else and so, WE GOT OUR TV, WOOT! The guy behind us got one too and then that was it. They were all out. The ad said "minimum 2 in stock per store" and they meant that shit. Have to give them props though, the customers were rabid, but the Best Buy employees were great. You know that crap you see on TV with people stampeding? There wasn't any of that at all in East Hanover.
Overall, it was a lot more harmless than I thought it was going to be. I totally didn't even need my cammies. Janelle and Manny hit up Circuit City down south in Deptford I think it was, and when they left cops were swarming the place. Some guy stabbed another one over a fricken laptop. Smart move. It's 30 years in jail but hey, he saved $300.
I'm only posting now because it's taken me 38 hours to recuperate. Geo and I were in desperate need of a new TV, so we decided to brave the crowds at Best Buy on the morning of Black Friday. With the precision of soldiers planning to storm a well-fortified stronghold, we identified the Best Buy in East Hanover as the one most likely to have the least amount of early birds. The one in Secaucus is in close proximity to Newark and Jersey City, while the one in Union is in the middle of Route 22, the consumer capital of central Jersey. The store opened at 5 so we planned to leave the house by 2 a.m.
On Wednesday night, after a plateful of garlic mashed potatoes, stuffing, turkey, sauteed onions and bell peppers, Geo and the kids went to bed early. I on the other hand, decided to drink a crapload of rum. For practical purposes of course, to keep my body temperature high while waiting for two hours in 19 degree weather. We got to Best Buy a little before 3 a.m. and there was a line in place, wrapping around the fricken building. Every Best Buy was only promising a minimum stock of TWO of the televisions we wanted, and there were about 60 people ahead of us. After a quick conference ("Fuck it, we're here already") we got in line. It was colder than a witch's ears. I would have said tit but you know, those never really get ice cold. So it makes no sense that a witch's tit, despite her overall body temperature, would be colder than her ears. But I digress.
We stood around shaking for an hour, then cheerful Best Buy employees began handing out reservation tickets for the popular items. Naturally, our television wasn't one of them. Luckily though, this served to weed out a bunch of people in front of us, who left when they realized they weren't going to get their $350 Toshiba laptops. The thing that cracked me up the most was how close-mouthed people in line were about what exactly they were planning to buy. Geo and I did it as well. Even though the item was on the advertisement that over a 150 people were currently thumbing through. Whenever we spoke to the people around us it was always "what we came here to get" instead of "the $390 widescreen HDTV." International spies are more forthcoming with their plans. By the way, it's fun to stand in line on Black Friday and say things like "What's this line for?" Or, "I'm only waiting here to get Shrek 2 for 6 bucks."
At 4:45, the Best Buy people started getting ready to open their doors. That's when about 60 people bum rushed from the side, who hadn't waited in line. Fuckers. I was getting seriously pissed as I saw that after waiting in the freezing cold for 2 hours, instead of being the 50th person or so through the doors, we were about to be the 100th. So I grabbed Geo and started insinuating us through cracks and between people until we were nearer to the front. It's like sex. The key is to slip through holes, not bang psychotically against people until you get lucky. The doors opened and as planned Geo went straight to the television section while I detoured through the DVDs to pick up Shrek 2 (Thought I was kidding? Remember who plays Puss In Boots?)
When I got to the TVs, Geo was the fourth person in line to order. The guy in front of him was one of the people who had cut the line and if he had ordered "our" TV I seriously might have started an all-out rumble. I was packing... a granola bar, some cough drops and Burt's Bees chapstick. MacGuyver could have totally built weaponry with that. But he got something else and so, WE GOT OUR TV, WOOT! The guy behind us got one too and then that was it. They were all out. The ad said "minimum 2 in stock per store" and they meant that shit. Have to give them props though, the customers were rabid, but the Best Buy employees were great. You know that crap you see on TV with people stampeding? There wasn't any of that at all in East Hanover.
Overall, it was a lot more harmless than I thought it was going to be. I totally didn't even need my cammies. Janelle and Manny hit up Circuit City down south in Deptford I think it was, and when they left cops were swarming the place. Some guy stabbed another one over a fricken laptop. Smart move. It's 30 years in jail but hey, he saved $300.
November 12, 2005
More Randomness
More Randomness
I rarely give a crap about the latest internet crazes, but the newest one PostSecret is fairly interesting. It's an artistic grouphug.us. I even want the book, though I can't understand how it's being released. Don't some of those postcards constitute copyright infringement? I can't see the Walt Disney Company agreeing to let them use Mickey Mouse's image on a postcard about jerking off uncontrollably.
My postcard would look something like...
So I decided half-an hour ago (it's almost 4 a.m.) that I didn't know enough about global warming. I mean, I read newspaper articles about it regularly and my Oceanography textbook in college had a few chapters on it, but no scientific studies. So I started Googling around and came up with a paper discussing the debate in the scientific community, on whether or not global warming is responsible for the recent rash of hurricanes. I read through it and what I pretty much took away is that:
a) I love being a parent but it's a bit lame to be at home on a Friday night, reading scientific papers.
b) I should not be reading anything even remotely scientific at 4 a.m. My brain lacks the ability to process it properly at that time. In fact, at 4 a.m. I shouldn't read anything more mentally taxing than a candy wrapper.
c) I could however, still write this post. And mess with Photoshop a little.
Geo and I hit up the mall today, to kill time while we waited for something to be repaired. I went through a few of my old retail stomping grounds, but wasn't very interested in anything so we moved on to the kids' clothing stores. A few things about shopping for kids' clothing:
1. Is there no market for parents who DON'T want their daughters to be dressed like miniature hoes? Every store we went to seemed to consist of Paris-Hilton-type pleated miniskirts or pants with words written across the ass. Because that's exactly what some 7-year-old kid needs right, a reason for grown men to stare at her ass. I know, I've bitched about the assword shorts about a hundred times.
2. Upon further consideration, I must correct myself. There are stores that sell decent clothing for kids. Gymboree and Baby Gap have decent clothes, but to buy their stuff you need to take a second mortgage out on your home. Apparently, as a parent you have to pay double for those extra inches of fabric to cover your child. One pair of jeans I scanned at Baby Gap cost $32. For something that uses about as much fabric as a dinner napkin. Shameless. And it probably took that little Honduran boy only 8 minutes to make. So that would be SIXTY-FOUR DOLLARS to get the girls each a pair. They'd just have to share one. Whoever's turn it is to wear the jeans, that's the kid that gets to come along with us that day.
3. Children's shoes can be appallingly ugly. I saw a pair today that looked like a cross between Birkenstocks and mary janes. I guess they're for when little hippie children have to go to a formal dinner. Rich little hippie children, because each pair was about 50 bucks.
4. Wouldn't you think that the people who work at children's clothing stores are nice? Most are assholes though. Especially the ones who work at The Children's Place. When you ask a salesperson there a question, they can't respond without sighing and rolling their eyes first. That's if you can get them to speak to you. Apparently, answering questions about the clothing they sell isn't part of their job description. This might be exclusive to crappy malls like Newport though. They probably smile at The Children's Place in Short Hills.
I rarely give a crap about the latest internet crazes, but the newest one PostSecret is fairly interesting. It's an artistic grouphug.us. I even want the book, though I can't understand how it's being released. Don't some of those postcards constitute copyright infringement? I can't see the Walt Disney Company agreeing to let them use Mickey Mouse's image on a postcard about jerking off uncontrollably.
My postcard would look something like...
So I decided half-an hour ago (it's almost 4 a.m.) that I didn't know enough about global warming. I mean, I read newspaper articles about it regularly and my Oceanography textbook in college had a few chapters on it, but no scientific studies. So I started Googling around and came up with a paper discussing the debate in the scientific community, on whether or not global warming is responsible for the recent rash of hurricanes. I read through it and what I pretty much took away is that:
a) I love being a parent but it's a bit lame to be at home on a Friday night, reading scientific papers.
b) I should not be reading anything even remotely scientific at 4 a.m. My brain lacks the ability to process it properly at that time. In fact, at 4 a.m. I shouldn't read anything more mentally taxing than a candy wrapper.
c) I could however, still write this post. And mess with Photoshop a little.
Geo and I hit up the mall today, to kill time while we waited for something to be repaired. I went through a few of my old retail stomping grounds, but wasn't very interested in anything so we moved on to the kids' clothing stores. A few things about shopping for kids' clothing:
1. Is there no market for parents who DON'T want their daughters to be dressed like miniature hoes? Every store we went to seemed to consist of Paris-Hilton-type pleated miniskirts or pants with words written across the ass. Because that's exactly what some 7-year-old kid needs right, a reason for grown men to stare at her ass. I know, I've bitched about the assword shorts about a hundred times.
2. Upon further consideration, I must correct myself. There are stores that sell decent clothing for kids. Gymboree and Baby Gap have decent clothes, but to buy their stuff you need to take a second mortgage out on your home. Apparently, as a parent you have to pay double for those extra inches of fabric to cover your child. One pair of jeans I scanned at Baby Gap cost $32. For something that uses about as much fabric as a dinner napkin. Shameless. And it probably took that little Honduran boy only 8 minutes to make. So that would be SIXTY-FOUR DOLLARS to get the girls each a pair. They'd just have to share one. Whoever's turn it is to wear the jeans, that's the kid that gets to come along with us that day.
3. Children's shoes can be appallingly ugly. I saw a pair today that looked like a cross between Birkenstocks and mary janes. I guess they're for when little hippie children have to go to a formal dinner. Rich little hippie children, because each pair was about 50 bucks.
4. Wouldn't you think that the people who work at children's clothing stores are nice? Most are assholes though. Especially the ones who work at The Children's Place. When you ask a salesperson there a question, they can't respond without sighing and rolling their eyes first. That's if you can get them to speak to you. Apparently, answering questions about the clothing they sell isn't part of their job description. This might be exclusive to crappy malls like Newport though. They probably smile at The Children's Place in Short Hills.
October 9, 2005
Stupid Institutions
Stupid Institutions
I know I'm a total ass and that this post will only add to the mountain of bad karma I've probably generated with this blog. I admit, I feel guilty at times for being such an ass but I can't help what I think. I have a feeling other people think similar thoughts but don't say them out loud. So do I have bad karma because I thought these things in the first place, or because I actually wrote them down/said them out loud. Who can tell.
My ex sent me a link to some lawsuit filed by a woman who claims her doctor prescribed sex with him for her condition. She believed his medical advice and um, got refills for a few months. She is seeking 4 million dollars in damages. Supposedly she isn't mentally retarded, just really stupid. I don't buy it. Not that I condone doctors abusing their priviliges, but give me a break. He told her there was "a medical need to manipulate a nerve in her vagina to help alleviate her lower back pain." If she really is stupid enough to believe that then they should commit her to a Stupid Institution before she hurts herself.
If I were Queen of the World I would open up many of those Stupid Institutions. It would probably free up our jails a bit and make the world a safer place. We need a place to put those people, where they won't frustrate or annoy anyone except other stupid people. People who get into accidents because they were on their cell phones, people who sue for billions of dollars because they "didn't know" that cigarettes were bad for their health, people who say shit like "the government only cares about oil" then climb into their SUVs... wouldn't it be nice to live separately from them? The Stupid Institution would provide them with a controlled environment, while protecting the greater good. No really. This is part of my campaign speech.
Since I'm already talking smack, might as well continue. I read this article about some woman who was giving birth to triplets and no one stopped to help. The whole point of the article was to illustrate the callousness of society. Naturally my first thoughts were sympathy for the mom, and it continued until I got further down the story and read the part where she has three older children, none of whom are in her custody. So um, after having three kids removed from her custody because she sucked as a mom, or having some judge decide her kids were better off without her influence or having some judge decide she couldn't care for her kids... she decided to have more? Either that or she decided birth control wasn't important. Nice. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad her babies are okay. But there's free food, room and board at the Stupid Institution. I know, I'm an ass. As a mother of twins I feel guilty for judging this person but... oh well.
You know who else I'd like to commit? Pro athletes who go on strike. But that's a personal bias, likely stemming from the NBA lockout, when I would go to my underpaid job at the league office and read about athletes complaining that they "had to sell their eighth car" (Kenny Andersen). I don't understand pro athletes who go on strike. Don't they realize how lucky they are? They are getting paid a stupid amount of money to do something the average person on the street would accept $30K a year to do. Of course owners are the ones who should make the most money in professional sports. They're the ones taking all the financial risks. I would think that's a pretty basic concept. When you go to Vegas and sit down at the blackjack table, you don't get to win big unless you put some money on the table beforehand that you may not get back. What's hard to understand about that?
Oh oh and celebrities who extend their 15 minutes of fame by all means necessary. They get engaged, get married, release sex tapes, join cults, adopt kids, have kids... all for the purpose of keeping themselves in the spotlight. Wouldn't it be nice to have them committed and never have to hear about them ever again? All the Stupid Institutions would be enormous. I wouldn't make the mistake of building them too small, and thus having to deal with the problem of "overcrowding" later on. And there would be pools and restaurants and stores. Imagine a university, but... pretty much the complete opposite in admission. And naturally there would be a focus on rehabilitation. I am not a pessimist. Some people can be saved. Everyone has done stupid things in their past, it's just whether or not they're habitual offenders. Like one time I... never mind.
By the way, this is um, completely unrelated (heh) but Scientologists believe that:
"75 million years ago, an alien named Xenu ruled more than 76 planets, including Earth (known as Teegeeack), and tried to solve a population problem by blowing up beings on Teegeeack. Their souls were taken to a "cinema", where they were forced to watch a "3-D, super-colossal motion picture" for 36 days that implanted a "false reality" to control them. These souls then possessed humans."
I don't know about you but I almost cried with laughter while reading that. I mean Christianity has some crazy stories too but they're not half as um, imaginative.
I know I'm a total ass and that this post will only add to the mountain of bad karma I've probably generated with this blog. I admit, I feel guilty at times for being such an ass but I can't help what I think. I have a feeling other people think similar thoughts but don't say them out loud. So do I have bad karma because I thought these things in the first place, or because I actually wrote them down/said them out loud. Who can tell.
My ex sent me a link to some lawsuit filed by a woman who claims her doctor prescribed sex with him for her condition. She believed his medical advice and um, got refills for a few months. She is seeking 4 million dollars in damages. Supposedly she isn't mentally retarded, just really stupid. I don't buy it. Not that I condone doctors abusing their priviliges, but give me a break. He told her there was "a medical need to manipulate a nerve in her vagina to help alleviate her lower back pain." If she really is stupid enough to believe that then they should commit her to a Stupid Institution before she hurts herself.
If I were Queen of the World I would open up many of those Stupid Institutions. It would probably free up our jails a bit and make the world a safer place. We need a place to put those people, where they won't frustrate or annoy anyone except other stupid people. People who get into accidents because they were on their cell phones, people who sue for billions of dollars because they "didn't know" that cigarettes were bad for their health, people who say shit like "the government only cares about oil" then climb into their SUVs... wouldn't it be nice to live separately from them? The Stupid Institution would provide them with a controlled environment, while protecting the greater good. No really. This is part of my campaign speech.
Since I'm already talking smack, might as well continue. I read this article about some woman who was giving birth to triplets and no one stopped to help. The whole point of the article was to illustrate the callousness of society. Naturally my first thoughts were sympathy for the mom, and it continued until I got further down the story and read the part where she has three older children, none of whom are in her custody. So um, after having three kids removed from her custody because she sucked as a mom, or having some judge decide her kids were better off without her influence or having some judge decide she couldn't care for her kids... she decided to have more? Either that or she decided birth control wasn't important. Nice. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad her babies are okay. But there's free food, room and board at the Stupid Institution. I know, I'm an ass. As a mother of twins I feel guilty for judging this person but... oh well.
You know who else I'd like to commit? Pro athletes who go on strike. But that's a personal bias, likely stemming from the NBA lockout, when I would go to my underpaid job at the league office and read about athletes complaining that they "had to sell their eighth car" (Kenny Andersen). I don't understand pro athletes who go on strike. Don't they realize how lucky they are? They are getting paid a stupid amount of money to do something the average person on the street would accept $30K a year to do. Of course owners are the ones who should make the most money in professional sports. They're the ones taking all the financial risks. I would think that's a pretty basic concept. When you go to Vegas and sit down at the blackjack table, you don't get to win big unless you put some money on the table beforehand that you may not get back. What's hard to understand about that?
Oh oh and celebrities who extend their 15 minutes of fame by all means necessary. They get engaged, get married, release sex tapes, join cults, adopt kids, have kids... all for the purpose of keeping themselves in the spotlight. Wouldn't it be nice to have them committed and never have to hear about them ever again? All the Stupid Institutions would be enormous. I wouldn't make the mistake of building them too small, and thus having to deal with the problem of "overcrowding" later on. And there would be pools and restaurants and stores. Imagine a university, but... pretty much the complete opposite in admission. And naturally there would be a focus on rehabilitation. I am not a pessimist. Some people can be saved. Everyone has done stupid things in their past, it's just whether or not they're habitual offenders. Like one time I... never mind.
By the way, this is um, completely unrelated (heh) but Scientologists believe that:
"75 million years ago, an alien named Xenu ruled more than 76 planets, including Earth (known as Teegeeack), and tried to solve a population problem by blowing up beings on Teegeeack. Their souls were taken to a "cinema", where they were forced to watch a "3-D, super-colossal motion picture" for 36 days that implanted a "false reality" to control them. These souls then possessed humans."
I don't know about you but I almost cried with laughter while reading that. I mean Christianity has some crazy stories too but they're not half as um, imaginative.
September 24, 2005
Sad
Sad
Hurricane coverage aside, I think this was the saddest story I've read in a long time. I just can't understand it. It messed with my mind so much I had to come on here and type away but I have no idea what to say. It's not like the time I wrote that rather scathing post on Thanksgiving about a different psycho mother in the news. That just flowed. This post I keep typing and erasing. I want to be infuriated but I'm just sad. I think deep down inside the woman knew she was at risk to pass on the disease to her kids, might have already passed it on, but needed desperately to accept as fact the things she wanted to hear. As if HIV was some sort of problem you could close your eyes and pretend wasn't there, like imaginary monsters under the bed. Now her baby is gone and it might have been prevented.
I can see the guilt and desperation that all mothers must feel, who are HIV-positive and had kids after being infected. If you choose to believe that there is no possibility of transmission to your kids, then you don't have to face the guilt. It's very selfish and dangerous but I can see how she would be weak and grasp at all lifelines, no matter how implausible. Even if I don't agree with her decisions and alleged beliefs I can still see all that. Yet she maintains her position and continues to hold onto the delusions that she acted in the best interest of her child. Which we all know is a lie because why then would she test her remaining child. She is responsible for her child's death and regardless of the bullshit she's saying now, she knows it.
I think the reason I'm so unsettled is because the mother obviously has issues but what the hell were all those doctors thinking to allow this to happen? Why wasn't children's services notified that there was yet another child being potentially exposed? Why couldn't those doctors see that the mother was putting her needs above that of her children? What pisses me off the most is that social services knew the woman was HIV-positive and transmitting bodily fluids to her first son and they didn't remove him from her "care" or monitor the situation. The "we have other cases" excuse just doesn't fly. A woman who knows she is HIV-positive and breastfeeds her baby is just as bad as one that beats her child. At least the other child has a chance to survive his beating.
My head is pounding from trying to understand it. The person whose ass I want to kick the most is Dr. Fleiss. I mean not that I should have expected much from the man who raised a daughter that grew up and became the most famous hooker of all time. But how can he behave so irresponsibly and still look himself in the mirror. People in Los Angeles do me a favor. If you see Dr. Fleiss on the street, beat the fucking shit out of him.
Hurricane coverage aside, I think this was the saddest story I've read in a long time. I just can't understand it. It messed with my mind so much I had to come on here and type away but I have no idea what to say. It's not like the time I wrote that rather scathing post on Thanksgiving about a different psycho mother in the news. That just flowed. This post I keep typing and erasing. I want to be infuriated but I'm just sad. I think deep down inside the woman knew she was at risk to pass on the disease to her kids, might have already passed it on, but needed desperately to accept as fact the things she wanted to hear. As if HIV was some sort of problem you could close your eyes and pretend wasn't there, like imaginary monsters under the bed. Now her baby is gone and it might have been prevented.
I can see the guilt and desperation that all mothers must feel, who are HIV-positive and had kids after being infected. If you choose to believe that there is no possibility of transmission to your kids, then you don't have to face the guilt. It's very selfish and dangerous but I can see how she would be weak and grasp at all lifelines, no matter how implausible. Even if I don't agree with her decisions and alleged beliefs I can still see all that. Yet she maintains her position and continues to hold onto the delusions that she acted in the best interest of her child. Which we all know is a lie because why then would she test her remaining child. She is responsible for her child's death and regardless of the bullshit she's saying now, she knows it.
I think the reason I'm so unsettled is because the mother obviously has issues but what the hell were all those doctors thinking to allow this to happen? Why wasn't children's services notified that there was yet another child being potentially exposed? Why couldn't those doctors see that the mother was putting her needs above that of her children? What pisses me off the most is that social services knew the woman was HIV-positive and transmitting bodily fluids to her first son and they didn't remove him from her "care" or monitor the situation. The "we have other cases" excuse just doesn't fly. A woman who knows she is HIV-positive and breastfeeds her baby is just as bad as one that beats her child. At least the other child has a chance to survive his beating.
My head is pounding from trying to understand it. The person whose ass I want to kick the most is Dr. Fleiss. I mean not that I should have expected much from the man who raised a daughter that grew up and became the most famous hooker of all time. But how can he behave so irresponsibly and still look himself in the mirror. People in Los Angeles do me a favor. If you see Dr. Fleiss on the street, beat the fucking shit out of him.
September 6, 2005
The Hurricane Katrina Blame Game
The Blame Game
I know it won't be popular but I'm going to toss my two cents in anyways over the blame frenzy that's been going on in the aftermath. You know I'm always willing to risk a nice flaming if it's what I honestly think.
I understand the Bush-bashing that's been going on, I see that he made some costly decisions, especially when adhering to red tape issues that affected response time. But is it possible that people be FAIR in their bashing? Save some of those hits with the blame mallet for people like Governor Kathleen Blanco. Or is she off-limits because she's a Democrat AND a woman? I don't know how this person ever became governor of a state if she needs to be babysat before and after a crisis in HER state. She should resign simply for being stupid enough to request 24 hours to make a decision on Bush and Mayor Nagin's agreed plans.
Checking on levees before a storm, fixing levees that may have been broken, pumping stations that have to be protected so they don't go underwater, those responsibilities shouldn't fall on anyone other than Louisiana officials starting with Governor Blanco and Mayor Nagin of New Orleans. Yeah I said it. I don't understand people who expect the President of the United States to run around asking if levees are up to par, but don't expect the Governor of that state and the Mayor of that city to do it. We might as well be saying that there's no point to having Governors and Mayors elected in the first place, just have the President do their jobs.
And let's not forget the head of FEMA, who wasn't aware that people were stuck in the convention center and who refused corporate offers of truckloads of bottled water prior to the flooding. And how he *insert a variety of incompetent choices here* (didn't want to add to the white noise.) It seems that the breakdown in the efficiency of FEMA can be attributed to the fact that it was folded into Homeland Security. So some blame needs to be tossed over to their director as well. Which means we can blame the President because he hired them, but it also means we can blame the voters of Louisiana and the city of New Orleans for electing such fuckwad officials.
Also, people need to make a choice. Is the President to blame because he waited too long to send in the National Guard and the military or because he sent them in period and now people think they have a "license to kill" whoever they want? Because it's one or the other. The same people who are saying that it took too long to respond are also upset that the response included the National Guard and the military. But Mayor Nagin ASKED FOR THEM. They went in with orders to hold their guns at an abnormally passive stance, which is a risk to themselves but it was their orders.
To me, the willingness of the higher-ups to put soldiers at risk purely for political correctness and public relations says that they weren't, as Kanye West put it, "given permission to go down and shoot us" without provocation I'm assuming he meant. Because anyone who shoots AT policemen or National Guardsmen or soldiers deserves to be shot. Yeah again, I said it. Incidentally, I want to give props to West for calling himself a hypocrite because he said he saw the news coverage of the catastrophe and went shopping, when he hadn't even made a donation yet. Celebrities aren't usually willing to admit things like that. Though it makes me question his mentality a little, who watches such tragic footage then goes "Hey, I need a new shirt." But as upset as he was on television, I don't see how inflammatory comments that can't actually be proven will help anyone. President Bush may not care about black people but then by the same token neither do Governor Blanco and Mayor Nagin.
Also, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say there is nothing wrong with criticizing the people that chose to wait out the storm rather than obey the MANDATORY evacuation. If you're going to criticize officials for not being ready for the storm, even with the advance warning, then you should also be ready to criticize the people who received advanced warning but chose to ignore it. Not everyone left in New Orleans was without a car, bus fare or hotel fees. There were quite a few people evacuated (black people, white people, red people, green people) who said they had chosen to wait out the storm. All the resources and time spent rescuing those people could have been directed earlier towards rescuing the people who didn't have the option of getting into their cars or climbing onto a bus on the information of possibilities and probabilities.
Oh and to the media, here's a nice big FUCK YOU. Way to contribute to the frenzy and emotion with sensationalistic coverage and pictures which label black people as "looters" and white people as "food finders." What the hell is a food finder for God's sake. The definition of "loot" as applicable is "stolen goods." So everyone who takes from a store whether it be bread, milk, televisions, lavender dresses, or whatever are looters. Can it be argued that looting certain things are necessary and looting others are not? Of course. But they're all looters. I can't think of what a "food finder" might be except that one guy on the Food Network who hosts the show "Food Finds." He's a food finder.
Last but not least, enough already about gas prices. Yes, they're high. Yes, there's no logical reason for them to be high it's just panic pricing. But it could be worse, you and everything you own could be underwater.
Alright, flame on.
I know it won't be popular but I'm going to toss my two cents in anyways over the blame frenzy that's been going on in the aftermath. You know I'm always willing to risk a nice flaming if it's what I honestly think.
I understand the Bush-bashing that's been going on, I see that he made some costly decisions, especially when adhering to red tape issues that affected response time. But is it possible that people be FAIR in their bashing? Save some of those hits with the blame mallet for people like Governor Kathleen Blanco. Or is she off-limits because she's a Democrat AND a woman? I don't know how this person ever became governor of a state if she needs to be babysat before and after a crisis in HER state. She should resign simply for being stupid enough to request 24 hours to make a decision on Bush and Mayor Nagin's agreed plans.
Checking on levees before a storm, fixing levees that may have been broken, pumping stations that have to be protected so they don't go underwater, those responsibilities shouldn't fall on anyone other than Louisiana officials starting with Governor Blanco and Mayor Nagin of New Orleans. Yeah I said it. I don't understand people who expect the President of the United States to run around asking if levees are up to par, but don't expect the Governor of that state and the Mayor of that city to do it. We might as well be saying that there's no point to having Governors and Mayors elected in the first place, just have the President do their jobs.
And let's not forget the head of FEMA, who wasn't aware that people were stuck in the convention center and who refused corporate offers of truckloads of bottled water prior to the flooding. And how he *insert a variety of incompetent choices here* (didn't want to add to the white noise.) It seems that the breakdown in the efficiency of FEMA can be attributed to the fact that it was folded into Homeland Security. So some blame needs to be tossed over to their director as well. Which means we can blame the President because he hired them, but it also means we can blame the voters of Louisiana and the city of New Orleans for electing such fuckwad officials.
Also, people need to make a choice. Is the President to blame because he waited too long to send in the National Guard and the military or because he sent them in period and now people think they have a "license to kill" whoever they want? Because it's one or the other. The same people who are saying that it took too long to respond are also upset that the response included the National Guard and the military. But Mayor Nagin ASKED FOR THEM. They went in with orders to hold their guns at an abnormally passive stance, which is a risk to themselves but it was their orders.
To me, the willingness of the higher-ups to put soldiers at risk purely for political correctness and public relations says that they weren't, as Kanye West put it, "given permission to go down and shoot us" without provocation I'm assuming he meant. Because anyone who shoots AT policemen or National Guardsmen or soldiers deserves to be shot. Yeah again, I said it. Incidentally, I want to give props to West for calling himself a hypocrite because he said he saw the news coverage of the catastrophe and went shopping, when he hadn't even made a donation yet. Celebrities aren't usually willing to admit things like that. Though it makes me question his mentality a little, who watches such tragic footage then goes "Hey, I need a new shirt." But as upset as he was on television, I don't see how inflammatory comments that can't actually be proven will help anyone. President Bush may not care about black people but then by the same token neither do Governor Blanco and Mayor Nagin.
Also, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say there is nothing wrong with criticizing the people that chose to wait out the storm rather than obey the MANDATORY evacuation. If you're going to criticize officials for not being ready for the storm, even with the advance warning, then you should also be ready to criticize the people who received advanced warning but chose to ignore it. Not everyone left in New Orleans was without a car, bus fare or hotel fees. There were quite a few people evacuated (black people, white people, red people, green people) who said they had chosen to wait out the storm. All the resources and time spent rescuing those people could have been directed earlier towards rescuing the people who didn't have the option of getting into their cars or climbing onto a bus on the information of possibilities and probabilities.
Oh and to the media, here's a nice big FUCK YOU. Way to contribute to the frenzy and emotion with sensationalistic coverage and pictures which label black people as "looters" and white people as "food finders." What the hell is a food finder for God's sake. The definition of "loot" as applicable is "stolen goods." So everyone who takes from a store whether it be bread, milk, televisions, lavender dresses, or whatever are looters. Can it be argued that looting certain things are necessary and looting others are not? Of course. But they're all looters. I can't think of what a "food finder" might be except that one guy on the Food Network who hosts the show "Food Finds." He's a food finder.
Last but not least, enough already about gas prices. Yes, they're high. Yes, there's no logical reason for them to be high it's just panic pricing. But it could be worse, you and everything you own could be underwater.
Alright, flame on.
September 4, 2005
If I Had No Loot
If I Had No Loot
I am going to be honest with you all, as usual. I'm a fairly law-abiding person. I say "fairly" because I have been known to occasionally jaywalk, toss my cigarette butt on the floor and pilfer candy from the bin at supermarkets. There have also been a few incidents of public indecency thanks to eight too many drinks but we won't go into that now. My point is, people are talking mad smack about looting but if me and my family and friends were trapped in New Orleans right after the aftermath of the hurricane I would be the Looting General:
"Geo, people are raping kids. Go out to Walmart and get us a few guns and don't forget the ammo for God's sake."
"Tony, we have no food or clean water, nor does it look like any will be made available to us. Go find some. Try to get soy baby formula if you see it. Aisle 17."
"Abel, everything we own has just been swept away and relief workers can't come help us because idiots are shooting at them. We're stuck in a third world country with no money to buy medicine or bribe corrupt town officials. Go find us some gold bracelets."
"Mike, we need a boat. According to the (my) rights of salvage, anything we find belongs to us. You're the fireman and probably have the most endurance so go swim around and find us a boat."
"Kwame, go over to Forever 21 and pick up that lavender tube dress they have in the window. Size small."
Yeap, that's exactly what would happen. It would be the stores with small valuables that would have to look out for me. I don't know how much help an Oriental rug or flat-screen TV would be to us in a crisis. And of course, once we were rescued I would totally give back my ill-gotten goods. Except the food that had already been consumed of course. Store owners would just have to suck that one up. Oh and the dress. The dress stays.
I would have written the second message in black too.
I am going to be honest with you all, as usual. I'm a fairly law-abiding person. I say "fairly" because I have been known to occasionally jaywalk, toss my cigarette butt on the floor and pilfer candy from the bin at supermarkets. There have also been a few incidents of public indecency thanks to eight too many drinks but we won't go into that now. My point is, people are talking mad smack about looting but if me and my family and friends were trapped in New Orleans right after the aftermath of the hurricane I would be the Looting General:
"Geo, people are raping kids. Go out to Walmart and get us a few guns and don't forget the ammo for God's sake."
"Tony, we have no food or clean water, nor does it look like any will be made available to us. Go find some. Try to get soy baby formula if you see it. Aisle 17."
"Abel, everything we own has just been swept away and relief workers can't come help us because idiots are shooting at them. We're stuck in a third world country with no money to buy medicine or bribe corrupt town officials. Go find us some gold bracelets."
"Mike, we need a boat. According to the (my) rights of salvage, anything we find belongs to us. You're the fireman and probably have the most endurance so go swim around and find us a boat."
"Kwame, go over to Forever 21 and pick up that lavender tube dress they have in the window. Size small."
Yeap, that's exactly what would happen. It would be the stores with small valuables that would have to look out for me. I don't know how much help an Oriental rug or flat-screen TV would be to us in a crisis. And of course, once we were rescued I would totally give back my ill-gotten goods. Except the food that had already been consumed of course. Store owners would just have to suck that one up. Oh and the dress. The dress stays.
September 2, 2005
Random Thoughts
Random Thoughts
1. People keep griping about the lack of international aid to the people affected by Hurricane Katrina but I don't really care about that. As a society I think we're rich enough to take care of the problem ourselves. As Americans we should be embarrassed to expect relief from other countries. I was however, wondering why it was taking so long for celebrities to jump on the donation bandwagon. Especially the ones who are normally critical of our government. This is a great public relations opportunity for them! Obviously most people are appalled at how long it took the government to organize a relief effort and implement it. The celebrities could have been right up there going "Since I keep yapping about how much our government sucks balls, I am offering the use of my private helicopter and my 500-room mansion in Miami Beach to evacuees from New Orleans. They can even use my 4 Olympic-sized swimming pools to bathe in." What great PR that would have resulted in! Then, the next time that person opened their mouth to comment on politics, people would be forced to lend them some credibility because of their generosity and willingness to put their money where their mouths were. As a former PR person I am saddened at these missed public relations opportunities.
And I was wondering when Jesse Jackson would open his big fat mouth. I wonder how much of the millions he's collected through corporate blackmail will go towards relief efforts. Now all we need are the extremist right-wing yahoos to make Sodom and Gomorrah references and the circus will be complete.
I did laugh out loud though while listening to the mayor of New Orleans speak in an interview. CNN had just shown some random Michigan politician babbling on in a press conference and then they cut to the NO mayor saying something to the effect of "No more goddamn press conferences. There should be a moratorium on press conferences. Just get off your asses and do something." HAHA and so true.
2. And on come the jokes. So far, this Ebay auction for the "last pint of gas in Atlanta" is the one that made me giggle. I like the potential bidder who posed the question "Can I bid my wife's kidney for the last pint?" Of beer he meant. Just kidding.
3. Some woman burned down her house trying to kill spiders in her garage. Overkill I think. Unless the spider looked like this video that Paul sent me. Christ. Where is an Uzi when you need one. Actually, spiders don't scare me as much as bees do. If I ever saw a bee that size I wouldn't need an Uzi because I'd have a heart attack and die right where I was standing.
4. Late last night I was watching Ladies Night on Celebrity Poker Showdown. Laugh all you want but I watch all things poker, even when the participants don't have much skill. That one actress who playes the hooker on Desperate Housewives was on and I couldn't quite separate her from her character. She folded pocket jacks with no overcard or draw on the table and I was thinking "You fricken hooker, stick to your day job." But she's really not. Because it's JUST TELEVISION Riss.
5. Someone climbed onto my site yesterday by doing a search on "Pissing shitting girls pissing shitting" which makes me think they were searching for German or Japanese porn and were sorely disappointed. They were probably also high. Because really, I think just one instance of "pissing and shitting" in the search string would have sufficed. Google must've been like "Yes, I get what you're looking for."
6. I think the woman who invented the anti-rape condom has her heart in the right place but uh, yeah. Her next invention is going to be a vaginal guillotine that just goes "off with their head" when a woman is being attacked. Then again, South Africa's crime problem has resulted in quite a few crazy inventions over the years. My favorite is the flame thrower directed at would-be carjackers. Wonder if I could get one of those for Jersey City.
7. Mike J sent me a whole crapload of news articles, several of which I've already touched upon. He also sent one about a 73-year-old woman who shot her husband because she figured he borrowed more than sugar from their next door neighbor, when he had to be treated for venereal disease. My favorite part of the article is that she was charged with "malicious wounding." I'm guessing "malicious wounding" is less dire than "attempted murder" but more dire than "aggravated assault." Although if one shoots someone in the abdomen, I have a feeling they're not going for a flesh wound. That's what arms and legs are for. The second best part is the 69-year-old guy banging other women. This Viagra/Levitra/10-other-pills-since-Pfizer's-patent-ran-out thing is waaaaay out of control. Septuagenarian crimes of passion. Who woulda thunk it.
8. We're off to Virginia for a few days so have a great Labor Day Weekend everyone!
1. People keep griping about the lack of international aid to the people affected by Hurricane Katrina but I don't really care about that. As a society I think we're rich enough to take care of the problem ourselves. As Americans we should be embarrassed to expect relief from other countries. I was however, wondering why it was taking so long for celebrities to jump on the donation bandwagon. Especially the ones who are normally critical of our government. This is a great public relations opportunity for them! Obviously most people are appalled at how long it took the government to organize a relief effort and implement it. The celebrities could have been right up there going "Since I keep yapping about how much our government sucks balls, I am offering the use of my private helicopter and my 500-room mansion in Miami Beach to evacuees from New Orleans. They can even use my 4 Olympic-sized swimming pools to bathe in." What great PR that would have resulted in! Then, the next time that person opened their mouth to comment on politics, people would be forced to lend them some credibility because of their generosity and willingness to put their money where their mouths were. As a former PR person I am saddened at these missed public relations opportunities.
And I was wondering when Jesse Jackson would open his big fat mouth. I wonder how much of the millions he's collected through corporate blackmail will go towards relief efforts. Now all we need are the extremist right-wing yahoos to make Sodom and Gomorrah references and the circus will be complete.
I did laugh out loud though while listening to the mayor of New Orleans speak in an interview. CNN had just shown some random Michigan politician babbling on in a press conference and then they cut to the NO mayor saying something to the effect of "No more goddamn press conferences. There should be a moratorium on press conferences. Just get off your asses and do something." HAHA and so true.
2. And on come the jokes. So far, this Ebay auction for the "last pint of gas in Atlanta" is the one that made me giggle. I like the potential bidder who posed the question "Can I bid my wife's kidney for the last pint?" Of beer he meant. Just kidding.
3. Some woman burned down her house trying to kill spiders in her garage. Overkill I think. Unless the spider looked like this video that Paul sent me. Christ. Where is an Uzi when you need one. Actually, spiders don't scare me as much as bees do. If I ever saw a bee that size I wouldn't need an Uzi because I'd have a heart attack and die right where I was standing.
4. Late last night I was watching Ladies Night on Celebrity Poker Showdown. Laugh all you want but I watch all things poker, even when the participants don't have much skill. That one actress who playes the hooker on Desperate Housewives was on and I couldn't quite separate her from her character. She folded pocket jacks with no overcard or draw on the table and I was thinking "You fricken hooker, stick to your day job." But she's really not. Because it's JUST TELEVISION Riss.
5. Someone climbed onto my site yesterday by doing a search on "Pissing shitting girls pissing shitting" which makes me think they were searching for German or Japanese porn and were sorely disappointed. They were probably also high. Because really, I think just one instance of "pissing and shitting" in the search string would have sufficed. Google must've been like "Yes, I get what you're looking for."
6. I think the woman who invented the anti-rape condom has her heart in the right place but uh, yeah. Her next invention is going to be a vaginal guillotine that just goes "off with their head" when a woman is being attacked. Then again, South Africa's crime problem has resulted in quite a few crazy inventions over the years. My favorite is the flame thrower directed at would-be carjackers. Wonder if I could get one of those for Jersey City.
7. Mike J sent me a whole crapload of news articles, several of which I've already touched upon. He also sent one about a 73-year-old woman who shot her husband because she figured he borrowed more than sugar from their next door neighbor, when he had to be treated for venereal disease. My favorite part of the article is that she was charged with "malicious wounding." I'm guessing "malicious wounding" is less dire than "attempted murder" but more dire than "aggravated assault." Although if one shoots someone in the abdomen, I have a feeling they're not going for a flesh wound. That's what arms and legs are for. The second best part is the 69-year-old guy banging other women. This Viagra/Levitra/10-other-pills-since-Pfizer's-patent-ran-out thing is waaaaay out of control. Septuagenarian crimes of passion. Who woulda thunk it.
8. We're off to Virginia for a few days so have a great Labor Day Weekend everyone!
August 4, 2005
Press Quotes, Smoking While Driving and The Penis Monologues
Press Quotes, Smoking While Driving and The Penis Monologues
1. So Mike J got interviewed for an article about what men find attractive in women. This was my favorite part of the article:
"I know lots of guys who are blinded by chests, and I find a chest enhancement to be totally ridiculous," says Mike, a volunteer fireman.
My e-mail to Mike: I'm not questioning the veracity of your comment, but was that how you actually phrased it?
Mike's e-mail to me: No, I said "Huge fake tits are a turn off, I like natural tits better."
Okay, that sounds a lot more accurate. I guess the reporter took the liberty of translating his statement for the politically correct. Mike was also kind of buzzed at that point, so he was throwing around phrases like "I'd bang that girl" and "I wonder if she has any Jewish in her, maybe she'd like some" like it was nobody's business. At least that's how I picture the interview happening.
2. I know some of you have been waiting for me to bitch about the propose ban on smoking while driving. Well fear not friends, here it is! The proposed ban is stupid. Ta-da! Why be wordy when that will suffice. I mean it would make sense if they were banning smoking in the car while your kids are in it. That would be a health issue. But I really can't see that drivers smoking in the car is any more cause for safety concern than drivers singing along really loud to "Paradise By The Dashboard Lights." In fact, one can argue that the latter is MORE cause for concern because that's just a really bad song. IN FACT, one can argue that allowing drivers to smoke increases safety on the road, by reducing road rage. No seriously. I've seen non-smokers stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. It's not pretty.
I wonder if people in the rest of the country just think we're insane here in Jersey. Our politicians are making a huge deal over smoking in cars, which causes less accidents than people fucking with the radio, eating or putting on their make-up, and our acting governor's wife sits at home and fantasizes about microwaving babies. What an interesting travel brochure we must have.
3. You know what's stupid? Random people who stop by your blog and make insulting comments, just for the purpose of promoting their own blog. Eventually they'll probably realize there's no point in doing it here, because all that happens is that I leave up the comment but go into Haloscan and delete the homepage link, just to be an ass.
4. Okay I found a new book to add to my wishlist, "Why Do Men Have Nipples: Hundreds of Questions You'd Only Ask A Doctor After Your Third Martini." Hopefully it will answer my question of how come it burns when I pee, on the stove. Just kidding, of course I don't uh, pee on the stove. Who wants to come over for dinner.
5. Hmmm, so it was inevitable that one day "The Penis Monologues" would be born. I wonder what that dialogue of the play is like. Maybe there are different types of penis characters. Like the OCD Penis:
"I don't want to go in there, it smells like dead fish!!"
"What are those bumps over there? No!! Don't put me in yet, what are those bumps over there??"
"Are you sure this has nonoxynol 9?"
"Let's go in the hole we usually go in, this one's dirty."
Or the Insecure Penis:
"Are you sure we can do this? We've had a lot of drinks."
"Does this condom make me look small? Look at me from the side."
"I heard her ex-boyfriend makes Tommy Lee look like he's been swimming."
"What if what happened last time happens again? Think about baseball. Think about baseball. Think about baseball with ugly men in the snow."
1. So Mike J got interviewed for an article about what men find attractive in women. This was my favorite part of the article:
"I know lots of guys who are blinded by chests, and I find a chest enhancement to be totally ridiculous," says Mike, a volunteer fireman.
My e-mail to Mike: I'm not questioning the veracity of your comment, but was that how you actually phrased it?
Mike's e-mail to me: No, I said "Huge fake tits are a turn off, I like natural tits better."
Okay, that sounds a lot more accurate. I guess the reporter took the liberty of translating his statement for the politically correct. Mike was also kind of buzzed at that point, so he was throwing around phrases like "I'd bang that girl" and "I wonder if she has any Jewish in her, maybe she'd like some" like it was nobody's business. At least that's how I picture the interview happening.
2. I know some of you have been waiting for me to bitch about the propose ban on smoking while driving. Well fear not friends, here it is! The proposed ban is stupid. Ta-da! Why be wordy when that will suffice. I mean it would make sense if they were banning smoking in the car while your kids are in it. That would be a health issue. But I really can't see that drivers smoking in the car is any more cause for safety concern than drivers singing along really loud to "Paradise By The Dashboard Lights." In fact, one can argue that the latter is MORE cause for concern because that's just a really bad song. IN FACT, one can argue that allowing drivers to smoke increases safety on the road, by reducing road rage. No seriously. I've seen non-smokers stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. It's not pretty.
I wonder if people in the rest of the country just think we're insane here in Jersey. Our politicians are making a huge deal over smoking in cars, which causes less accidents than people fucking with the radio, eating or putting on their make-up, and our acting governor's wife sits at home and fantasizes about microwaving babies. What an interesting travel brochure we must have.
3. You know what's stupid? Random people who stop by your blog and make insulting comments, just for the purpose of promoting their own blog. Eventually they'll probably realize there's no point in doing it here, because all that happens is that I leave up the comment but go into Haloscan and delete the homepage link, just to be an ass.
4. Okay I found a new book to add to my wishlist, "Why Do Men Have Nipples: Hundreds of Questions You'd Only Ask A Doctor After Your Third Martini." Hopefully it will answer my question of how come it burns when I pee, on the stove. Just kidding, of course I don't uh, pee on the stove. Who wants to come over for dinner.
5. Hmmm, so it was inevitable that one day "The Penis Monologues" would be born. I wonder what that dialogue of the play is like. Maybe there are different types of penis characters. Like the OCD Penis:
"I don't want to go in there, it smells like dead fish!!"
"What are those bumps over there? No!! Don't put me in yet, what are those bumps over there??"
"Are you sure this has nonoxynol 9?"
"Let's go in the hole we usually go in, this one's dirty."
Or the Insecure Penis:
"Are you sure we can do this? We've had a lot of drinks."
"Does this condom make me look small? Look at me from the side."
"I heard her ex-boyfriend makes Tommy Lee look like he's been swimming."
"What if what happened last time happens again? Think about baseball. Think about baseball. Think about baseball with ugly men in the snow."
July 24, 2005
The Real ER - Jersey City
The Real ER - Jersey City
(REALLY LONG, but I have a lot of crap to get off my chest.)
Thursday evening one of my two-year-old twins had a fever of 102, which climbed to 103 half an hour later. I gave her a dose of ibuprofen which usually brings it down fast, but after an hour her temperature was 104.6 and climbing. We literally left the house in about three minutes, headed for the emergency room. There aren't many choices in Jersey City for decent health care, so we opted to either take her to Christ Hospital or Wilzig Hospital, the new Jersey City Med ever since the old one was shut down, to be renovated into haunted apartments.
The dilemma facing us was this, should we go to Christ Hospital which is a facing a multitude of malpractice lawsuits or Wilzig Hospital, which being new may have state-of-the-art facilities but the old Jersey City Med staff. For readers who are fortunate enough to live outside of Hudson County, Jersey City Med was not exactly known for its competent staff. As my obstetrician once said, when I asked him rather dubiously whether he expected me to deliver my twins there, "I wouldn't go there with a paper cut."
Since we were closer to Christ Hospital, we stupidly opted to go there. Hindsight is 20-20. By morning we were kicking ourselves for not driving the extra time to UMDNJ or Clara Maass or St. Joseph's. I mean we waited in the emergency room for 2 hours so it wouldn't have made a difference. Although considering the areas those hospitals are in, the wait might be crazy.
We pulled up to the emergency room at Christ hospital and I brought Angelina to the front. We filled out a triage form and sat down. Apparently you don't get to speak to anyone in the ER directly, unless you walk in holding your intestines in your left hand and your liver in your right. Half an hour later, the nurse called us in for a preliminary examination of Angelina, then sent us back out to be "registered" which is a nice way of saying "Let's see if you can pay for this shit." We registered then sat down to wait some more.
An ER waiting room is pretty much the craphole of society, and a few people who are legitimately hurt through no fault of their own. About half the people are still wasted and bleeding from minor injuries sustained when they brawled with someone over the last drop in the keg. Or as I overheard several times, when a rival drug dealer gets pissed because he thinks they were infringing on his territory, which they were, but it was just a dime bag, so why is he trippin. Some woman looked over at me and, puffed up with self-importance, smugly explained what "triage" was, and how her crackhead friend was going to be admitted first because he had chest pains related to the cigarette he was smoking. Thanks woman, not that I needed the word "triage" defined for me. And if I did I wouldn't have asked someone who looks like she uses words like "supposibly." But I just ignored her because I was too busy stoically waiting for my daughter's name to be called, while freaking out inside.
My friend Andrea sometimes talks about what she refers to as "white hot flashes of mommy rage." I had a couple the last time the girls were in the hospital, right after they were born, but hadn't had any since. This past weekend I was able to emphatically change that statement.
White Hot Flash of Mommy Rage Moment #1: We were called to go into the trauma center, an hour and a half after we walked in. Some 18-year-old skank who had been dancing around in the hallway while we waited and chatting with her mom about their various criminal acquaintances followed us in and bitched at the nurse, "When am I going to be seen? You're taking people who came in after me." What the fuck is this, McDonald's? Are we fucking ordering Happy Meals?? I was unable to reply verbally since Angelina was crying softly in my arms, but I still gave her a look that if it had subtitles would have said "Sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up before I give you a legitimate reason to be in the fucking emergency room." Luckily the nurse responded, saying "We see people on a priority basis depending on the severity of their problem and I have a very sick baby here."
White Hot Flash of Mommy Rage Moment #2: They asked the on-call pediatrician to come down and look at Angelina. He comes down, bitching about having to do it.
Doctor: What have you been giving her for the fever?
Me: Ibuprofen.
Doctor: How much?
Me: 1.875 mL every 6 hours.
Doctor: That's not enough.
Me: Well it says on the box that it's the maximum dosage you can give to someone her age and weight.
Doctor: Well you should have given her more. You should have doubled the maximum dosage.
Me: I'm not a doctor, I didn't realize it was a suggestion so I took it as an absolute.
Doctor: Did you call the service first?
Me: No. Our pediatrician says if her temperature goes over 104 bring her to the ER. It's at 104.6. I wasn't about to waste time calling someone who just wants to get me off the phone, I brought her here.
The doctor walks away still bitching. I was seething but still being civil, because I didn't want to piss off the person who will be responsible for my daughter's health. But it took a LOT of willpower not to follow him and start screaming. He comes back and says they're admitting her into the pediatric ward. I want to yell "Then why the hell did you say we should have called the service first if she's sick enough to be admitted into the hospital and started on meds right away" but I don't. I just hug my daughter and try not to cry and try not to take my fear out on the next asshole that says something stupid. And there were MANY.
An hour later they take her up to the Pediatric ward. She's sleeping in my arms fitfully, having just put up a hell of a fight when they put the IV in her arm. It took three nurses to do it. My daughters are freakishly strong. We enter the room and all it has is two huge, steel cribs from like the 1950's and a chair. I ask if she can get a bed instead because we co-sleep and she's not used to a crib but they say no.
White Hot Flash of Mommy Rage #3: The two nurses look at her IV and start messing with it because they can't understand why it's all taped up (Angelina was trying to rip it out in the ER.) Blood starts leaking into the IV tube and they see it but start leaving the room. I'm like "Um, blood is leaking into the IV tube" so they come back and have to fix it. They're clumsy and begin needlessly pushing down so hard on the IV needle in the back of her hand that she starts screaming. Then they tug the tubes and do it some more. I said "Be more careful, you're hurting her" but they keep at it. I finally snapped "I said be more careful" and snatched the IV tube away from them, to create some slack so that when they pulled on it, it wouldn't affect the needle in her hand which is why she was screaming. Apparently it hadn't occured to two registered nurses to do that.
What was the reason they were tugging on the tubes so hard it was hurting her? Because the tape was not aesthetically pleasing. It wasn't affecting the tube so it wouldn't cause occlusions in the IV drop, but it wasn't pretty I guess. And did I mention those two fuckers didn't use gloves? I didn't notice it until they were leaving or it may have been the straw that broke the camel's back. Wow, two proverbs in one post.
I put her in the crib, complete with a sticker that says "Next inspection date: 2001" and she starts freaking out so we spent the night in a chair. I don't know why they use those cribs anyway, the rails aren't high enough to keep a toddler from standing up and climbing over, yet the crib itself is 4 feet off the ground. And it only goes HIGHER. At least three times I looked up to see Angelina trying to climb out, and the top of the rail is 5 1/2 feet off the ground. Again, not surprised that the place is a breeding ground for lawsuits. Oh and the thing is FILTHY.
So in the future, if I can avoid it I won't be going to Christ Hospital for anything more serious than a splinter. There is a reason they are awash in lawsuits and it has little do with overly litigious people. The ER nurse that helped us was fine (looked like Manny), two of the pediatricians were fine (the jerk turned out to be still a jerk but competent) and two of the 12 or so nurses we came across were competent and fairly knowledgeable, but everything is old, crappy and few people really give a shit. Whenever Angelina's IV started malfunctioning I would hit the nurse call button since I couldn't move her and I didn't want to leave her alone. After about 7 minutes or so I'd finally run down to the desk and then run back. EVERY FUCKING TIME. But I know that's not the standard operating procedure because at St. Joseph's, where I spent 6 WEEKS in 2003, they responded in minutes. And sometimes 6 hours would go by without a single person checking on her, even when her temperature was still high. Fucking infuriating. "Here is your security tag, just in case someone steals her."
So we slept in the chair, or rather and she slept and I sat there, wondering why her fever wasn't going down even with all the Tylenol and antibiotics and fluids they were giving her. I haven't spent such a bad night since June 2003, when I went into preterm labor at 29 weeks and thought Angelina and Faith were going to be born 11 weeks early, weighing 2 lbs each. That morning, the nurse checked her temp and found she still had a high fever. So she wrapped her in cold towels, put her back in the crib and said "Take those off whenever you want to" and left. Um, okay. So I waited a few minutes but then she started shaking so I took them off. Half an hour later someone comes by to change the wet sheets.
White Hot Flash of Mommy Rage #4: Angelina only got a couple hours of sleep on Thursday and Friday. On Saturday morning at around 7 I finally got her to sleep, when the orderly comes in and slamming chairs and wastebaskets around for 5 minutes while she "cleaned" and then leaves the door wide open on her way out. People were laughing and screaming in the hallway so Angelina woke up again. And then I had to dump her crying into her crib, run to close the door then scoop her back up again and calm her down. EVERY TIME. Is it me or is closing the door after you leave just common fucking courtesy if you had to open it to enter in the first place? I mean you don't even have to close it completely, just enough to muffle sound. In the next two hours 2 out of the 5 nurses did it, as well as the lunch tray people, the orderlies and random people who walked in for no reason. Fuckers.
Don't think the abject stupidity and incompetence was confined to the hospital wards. When Mike J and I went to the gift shop to get teddy bears, the cashier sat around for 5 minutes before she helped us, even though she knew we were there. She told Mike they don't take credit card so he ran across the street to the ATM. When he returned he passed her and she said "Oh you're back" then went to the register and rung the person in front of us up. Then, she walked by us, practically walking around me as I stood in front of the register, went to the coffee shop counter and sat down and started reading her newspaper again. Mike went "HELLO??????" And she looked up and "Oh, I didn't know you guys were ready." Um okay, because that's what people do when they're not ready, stand in line with their money out.
Anyway, so yeah. My girls spent their second birthday apart but Angelina was discharged this morning woo-hoo! Happy Birthday to me!! That was the best present. The second best present was laying down for a nap in an actual bed. After sleeping in a chair for three days, a total of 4 hours, and normally with a 23-lb child in my arms, I will never again take having a bed for granted.
One night I walked in expecting to see Geo in the chair, but it was empty. I was wondering where they were when I looked up at the crib. And saw my 5-10, 150 lb husband lying in the crib with Angelina. So that's what we started doing to get her to sleep. I kept expecting the nurses to say something but they never did.
By the way, women who have Munchausen's Syndrome by Proxy and hurt their kids to get attention need to be drawn and quartered in the village square on Saturdays. There is nothing worse than watching your sick child and not being able to help them. The doctors thought it was some kind of infection for awhile, but then she broke out in a rash and they figured Angelina has roseola, a common childhood illness that results in high spiking fevers and rashes. The danger is in the adverse effects of a continuing fever, so I literally cried in relief when her fever finally went down. It broke my heart to see my normally active child so weak and miserable. But she is almost all better now!! The doctors say she should be completely recovered in a couple days. Oh and thanks to Tony, Abel, Mike and Girlie for visiting Angelina in the hospital to cheer her up, then visiting Faithie at home to cheer her up too. Geo and I are serenading you with "Wind Beneath My Wings" even as I type.
Oh and I can't believe people actually read this to the end, you guys are troopers.
(REALLY LONG, but I have a lot of crap to get off my chest.)
Thursday evening one of my two-year-old twins had a fever of 102, which climbed to 103 half an hour later. I gave her a dose of ibuprofen which usually brings it down fast, but after an hour her temperature was 104.6 and climbing. We literally left the house in about three minutes, headed for the emergency room. There aren't many choices in Jersey City for decent health care, so we opted to either take her to Christ Hospital or Wilzig Hospital, the new Jersey City Med ever since the old one was shut down, to be renovated into haunted apartments.
The dilemma facing us was this, should we go to Christ Hospital which is a facing a multitude of malpractice lawsuits or Wilzig Hospital, which being new may have state-of-the-art facilities but the old Jersey City Med staff. For readers who are fortunate enough to live outside of Hudson County, Jersey City Med was not exactly known for its competent staff. As my obstetrician once said, when I asked him rather dubiously whether he expected me to deliver my twins there, "I wouldn't go there with a paper cut."
Since we were closer to Christ Hospital, we stupidly opted to go there. Hindsight is 20-20. By morning we were kicking ourselves for not driving the extra time to UMDNJ or Clara Maass or St. Joseph's. I mean we waited in the emergency room for 2 hours so it wouldn't have made a difference. Although considering the areas those hospitals are in, the wait might be crazy.
We pulled up to the emergency room at Christ hospital and I brought Angelina to the front. We filled out a triage form and sat down. Apparently you don't get to speak to anyone in the ER directly, unless you walk in holding your intestines in your left hand and your liver in your right. Half an hour later, the nurse called us in for a preliminary examination of Angelina, then sent us back out to be "registered" which is a nice way of saying "Let's see if you can pay for this shit." We registered then sat down to wait some more.
An ER waiting room is pretty much the craphole of society, and a few people who are legitimately hurt through no fault of their own. About half the people are still wasted and bleeding from minor injuries sustained when they brawled with someone over the last drop in the keg. Or as I overheard several times, when a rival drug dealer gets pissed because he thinks they were infringing on his territory, which they were, but it was just a dime bag, so why is he trippin. Some woman looked over at me and, puffed up with self-importance, smugly explained what "triage" was, and how her crackhead friend was going to be admitted first because he had chest pains related to the cigarette he was smoking. Thanks woman, not that I needed the word "triage" defined for me. And if I did I wouldn't have asked someone who looks like she uses words like "supposibly." But I just ignored her because I was too busy stoically waiting for my daughter's name to be called, while freaking out inside.
My friend Andrea sometimes talks about what she refers to as "white hot flashes of mommy rage." I had a couple the last time the girls were in the hospital, right after they were born, but hadn't had any since. This past weekend I was able to emphatically change that statement.
White Hot Flash of Mommy Rage Moment #1: We were called to go into the trauma center, an hour and a half after we walked in. Some 18-year-old skank who had been dancing around in the hallway while we waited and chatting with her mom about their various criminal acquaintances followed us in and bitched at the nurse, "When am I going to be seen? You're taking people who came in after me." What the fuck is this, McDonald's? Are we fucking ordering Happy Meals?? I was unable to reply verbally since Angelina was crying softly in my arms, but I still gave her a look that if it had subtitles would have said "Sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up before I give you a legitimate reason to be in the fucking emergency room." Luckily the nurse responded, saying "We see people on a priority basis depending on the severity of their problem and I have a very sick baby here."
White Hot Flash of Mommy Rage Moment #2: They asked the on-call pediatrician to come down and look at Angelina. He comes down, bitching about having to do it.
Doctor: What have you been giving her for the fever?
Me: Ibuprofen.
Doctor: How much?
Me: 1.875 mL every 6 hours.
Doctor: That's not enough.
Me: Well it says on the box that it's the maximum dosage you can give to someone her age and weight.
Doctor: Well you should have given her more. You should have doubled the maximum dosage.
Me: I'm not a doctor, I didn't realize it was a suggestion so I took it as an absolute.
Doctor: Did you call the service first?
Me: No. Our pediatrician says if her temperature goes over 104 bring her to the ER. It's at 104.6. I wasn't about to waste time calling someone who just wants to get me off the phone, I brought her here.
The doctor walks away still bitching. I was seething but still being civil, because I didn't want to piss off the person who will be responsible for my daughter's health. But it took a LOT of willpower not to follow him and start screaming. He comes back and says they're admitting her into the pediatric ward. I want to yell "Then why the hell did you say we should have called the service first if she's sick enough to be admitted into the hospital and started on meds right away" but I don't. I just hug my daughter and try not to cry and try not to take my fear out on the next asshole that says something stupid. And there were MANY.
An hour later they take her up to the Pediatric ward. She's sleeping in my arms fitfully, having just put up a hell of a fight when they put the IV in her arm. It took three nurses to do it. My daughters are freakishly strong. We enter the room and all it has is two huge, steel cribs from like the 1950's and a chair. I ask if she can get a bed instead because we co-sleep and she's not used to a crib but they say no.
White Hot Flash of Mommy Rage #3: The two nurses look at her IV and start messing with it because they can't understand why it's all taped up (Angelina was trying to rip it out in the ER.) Blood starts leaking into the IV tube and they see it but start leaving the room. I'm like "Um, blood is leaking into the IV tube" so they come back and have to fix it. They're clumsy and begin needlessly pushing down so hard on the IV needle in the back of her hand that she starts screaming. Then they tug the tubes and do it some more. I said "Be more careful, you're hurting her" but they keep at it. I finally snapped "I said be more careful" and snatched the IV tube away from them, to create some slack so that when they pulled on it, it wouldn't affect the needle in her hand which is why she was screaming. Apparently it hadn't occured to two registered nurses to do that.
What was the reason they were tugging on the tubes so hard it was hurting her? Because the tape was not aesthetically pleasing. It wasn't affecting the tube so it wouldn't cause occlusions in the IV drop, but it wasn't pretty I guess. And did I mention those two fuckers didn't use gloves? I didn't notice it until they were leaving or it may have been the straw that broke the camel's back. Wow, two proverbs in one post.
I put her in the crib, complete with a sticker that says "Next inspection date: 2001" and she starts freaking out so we spent the night in a chair. I don't know why they use those cribs anyway, the rails aren't high enough to keep a toddler from standing up and climbing over, yet the crib itself is 4 feet off the ground. And it only goes HIGHER. At least three times I looked up to see Angelina trying to climb out, and the top of the rail is 5 1/2 feet off the ground. Again, not surprised that the place is a breeding ground for lawsuits. Oh and the thing is FILTHY.
So in the future, if I can avoid it I won't be going to Christ Hospital for anything more serious than a splinter. There is a reason they are awash in lawsuits and it has little do with overly litigious people. The ER nurse that helped us was fine (looked like Manny), two of the pediatricians were fine (the jerk turned out to be still a jerk but competent) and two of the 12 or so nurses we came across were competent and fairly knowledgeable, but everything is old, crappy and few people really give a shit. Whenever Angelina's IV started malfunctioning I would hit the nurse call button since I couldn't move her and I didn't want to leave her alone. After about 7 minutes or so I'd finally run down to the desk and then run back. EVERY FUCKING TIME. But I know that's not the standard operating procedure because at St. Joseph's, where I spent 6 WEEKS in 2003, they responded in minutes. And sometimes 6 hours would go by without a single person checking on her, even when her temperature was still high. Fucking infuriating. "Here is your security tag, just in case someone steals her."
So we slept in the chair, or rather and she slept and I sat there, wondering why her fever wasn't going down even with all the Tylenol and antibiotics and fluids they were giving her. I haven't spent such a bad night since June 2003, when I went into preterm labor at 29 weeks and thought Angelina and Faith were going to be born 11 weeks early, weighing 2 lbs each. That morning, the nurse checked her temp and found she still had a high fever. So she wrapped her in cold towels, put her back in the crib and said "Take those off whenever you want to" and left. Um, okay. So I waited a few minutes but then she started shaking so I took them off. Half an hour later someone comes by to change the wet sheets.
White Hot Flash of Mommy Rage #4: Angelina only got a couple hours of sleep on Thursday and Friday. On Saturday morning at around 7 I finally got her to sleep, when the orderly comes in and slamming chairs and wastebaskets around for 5 minutes while she "cleaned" and then leaves the door wide open on her way out. People were laughing and screaming in the hallway so Angelina woke up again. And then I had to dump her crying into her crib, run to close the door then scoop her back up again and calm her down. EVERY TIME. Is it me or is closing the door after you leave just common fucking courtesy if you had to open it to enter in the first place? I mean you don't even have to close it completely, just enough to muffle sound. In the next two hours 2 out of the 5 nurses did it, as well as the lunch tray people, the orderlies and random people who walked in for no reason. Fuckers.
Don't think the abject stupidity and incompetence was confined to the hospital wards. When Mike J and I went to the gift shop to get teddy bears, the cashier sat around for 5 minutes before she helped us, even though she knew we were there. She told Mike they don't take credit card so he ran across the street to the ATM. When he returned he passed her and she said "Oh you're back" then went to the register and rung the person in front of us up. Then, she walked by us, practically walking around me as I stood in front of the register, went to the coffee shop counter and sat down and started reading her newspaper again. Mike went "HELLO??????" And she looked up and "Oh, I didn't know you guys were ready." Um okay, because that's what people do when they're not ready, stand in line with their money out.
Anyway, so yeah. My girls spent their second birthday apart but Angelina was discharged this morning woo-hoo! Happy Birthday to me!! That was the best present. The second best present was laying down for a nap in an actual bed. After sleeping in a chair for three days, a total of 4 hours, and normally with a 23-lb child in my arms, I will never again take having a bed for granted.
One night I walked in expecting to see Geo in the chair, but it was empty. I was wondering where they were when I looked up at the crib. And saw my 5-10, 150 lb husband lying in the crib with Angelina. So that's what we started doing to get her to sleep. I kept expecting the nurses to say something but they never did.
By the way, women who have Munchausen's Syndrome by Proxy and hurt their kids to get attention need to be drawn and quartered in the village square on Saturdays. There is nothing worse than watching your sick child and not being able to help them. The doctors thought it was some kind of infection for awhile, but then she broke out in a rash and they figured Angelina has roseola, a common childhood illness that results in high spiking fevers and rashes. The danger is in the adverse effects of a continuing fever, so I literally cried in relief when her fever finally went down. It broke my heart to see my normally active child so weak and miserable. But she is almost all better now!! The doctors say she should be completely recovered in a couple days. Oh and thanks to Tony, Abel, Mike and Girlie for visiting Angelina in the hospital to cheer her up, then visiting Faithie at home to cheer her up too. Geo and I are serenading you with "Wind Beneath My Wings" even as I type.
Oh and I can't believe people actually read this to the end, you guys are troopers.
July 9, 2005
Smart and Not Smart
Smart and Not Smart
But first, I just want to say that my thoughts are with all the people in London who were affected by yesterday's tragedy. I won't get all political at this moment, but I will say that the people who justify events like this, by tossing us into the same category as the terrorists, piss me the fuck off. Yes there have been tragic civilian casualties in Iraq/Afghanistan. But I somehow missed the memo that said our armed forces were TARGETING them, as opposed to the terrorists, who are in fact trying to kill as many civilians as possible with every strike. Otherwise they would be hitting our military facilities and arsenals, not buses, office buildings, discos and grocery stores.
Seriously though, I'll save that for another day. Today, we're going to play a new game called smart and not smart.
Like this...
SMART: Curling your hair with one of those auto shut-off curling irons.
NOT SMART: Curling your hair while taking a bath.
Here we go.
SMART: Crossing the street when you see someone who, but for the insanity of our justice system, would have been convicted for brutally murdering his wife and the guy she was banging.
NOT SMART: Moving in with him and then provoking a violent fight with him.
SMART: Running on a track or in a park or on a treadmill.
NOT SMART: Running around with half-ton bulls.
SMART: Proposing to your girlfriend in a unique way.
NOT SMART: Proposing to your girlfriend after setting yourself on fire.
SMART: Marrying a man you love.
NOT SMART: Marrying a man you love who's a member of a cult and sics a babysitter on you.
SMART: Keeping the people who are affected by tragedy in your thoughts or prayers.
NOT SMART: Using tragedy to extend your 15 minutes of dubious fame.
SMART: Having a healthy sex life regardless of age.
NOT SMART: Thinking people don't have normal sex lives after the age of 25.
SMART: Not being a fucking thief.
NOT SMART: Being a thief, who photographs his crimes, then leaves the camera behind for the police to find.
SMART: Being in love with Michael Vartan.
NOT SMART: Being in love with Michael Douglas and threatening to kill his wife.
SMART: Not eating McDonald's or Burger King 3 times a day.
NOT SMART: Not eating.
SMART: Lying to your boyfriend when he asks if your ex was good in bed.
NOT SMART: Lying to protect violent men with guns and going to jail for it.
SMART: Raising sheep.
NOT SMART: Sheep.
ALSO NOT SMART: Raising sheep near a cliff.
But first, I just want to say that my thoughts are with all the people in London who were affected by yesterday's tragedy. I won't get all political at this moment, but I will say that the people who justify events like this, by tossing us into the same category as the terrorists, piss me the fuck off. Yes there have been tragic civilian casualties in Iraq/Afghanistan. But I somehow missed the memo that said our armed forces were TARGETING them, as opposed to the terrorists, who are in fact trying to kill as many civilians as possible with every strike. Otherwise they would be hitting our military facilities and arsenals, not buses, office buildings, discos and grocery stores.
Seriously though, I'll save that for another day. Today, we're going to play a new game called smart and not smart.
Like this...
SMART: Curling your hair with one of those auto shut-off curling irons.
NOT SMART: Curling your hair while taking a bath.
Here we go.
SMART: Crossing the street when you see someone who, but for the insanity of our justice system, would have been convicted for brutally murdering his wife and the guy she was banging.
NOT SMART: Moving in with him and then provoking a violent fight with him.
SMART: Running on a track or in a park or on a treadmill.
NOT SMART: Running around with half-ton bulls.
SMART: Proposing to your girlfriend in a unique way.
NOT SMART: Proposing to your girlfriend after setting yourself on fire.
SMART: Marrying a man you love.
NOT SMART: Marrying a man you love who's a member of a cult and sics a babysitter on you.
SMART: Keeping the people who are affected by tragedy in your thoughts or prayers.
NOT SMART: Using tragedy to extend your 15 minutes of dubious fame.
SMART: Having a healthy sex life regardless of age.
NOT SMART: Thinking people don't have normal sex lives after the age of 25.
SMART: Not being a fucking thief.
NOT SMART: Being a thief, who photographs his crimes, then leaves the camera behind for the police to find.
SMART: Being in love with Michael Vartan.
NOT SMART: Being in love with Michael Douglas and threatening to kill his wife.
SMART: Not eating McDonald's or Burger King 3 times a day.
NOT SMART: Not eating.
SMART: Lying to your boyfriend when he asks if your ex was good in bed.
NOT SMART: Lying to protect violent men with guns and going to jail for it.
SMART: Raising sheep.
NOT SMART: Sheep.
ALSO NOT SMART: Raising sheep near a cliff.
July 5, 2005
Random News Stories
Random News Stories
As always, when I'm relatively uninspired I start fishing around for random news stories. So um, yeah. Oh and I'm too lazy to segue properly, just so you know.
This article on what men feel are the worst insults to them made me laugh. I don't know why but I just smirked while reading the whole thing. I think it was the part about the top male fantasies being:
1. End world hunger.
2. Be a world famous sports star.
3. Marry a supermodel.
I picture guys in their bedrooms with the door locked, jerking off to UNICEF brochures, with "We Are The World" playing in the background to set the mood. Oh and of course the hand lotion in use was NOT tested on animals thank you very much.
I'm a little tired of all the news articles about accidental koran, bible, flag, whatever burnings. Who fucking cares. No seriously. I am wishing police would focus more of their manpower on say, murders, rapes, kidnappings... you know, serious crimes. Or, how about someone catches a car thief every so often? I'd take that, considering how many cars we've had stolen. Although to be honest, I get a good laugh every time people in this country scream religious persecution and racism and sexism and holy, racist, sexism and it turns out to be just some dork who left a candle burning. Then again, there are probably a lot of precincts out there where the cops are just bored and I guess we have to alleviate their boredom somehow, or they get all gung ho when there are actual crimes. Beat the shit out of people for jaywalking.
It kind of bugs that anyone can sue anyone for pretty much anything. I mean I understand that the First World is a fairly litigious one, especially when one or both of the parties are American. But really... suing NASA because their actions affected... astrology? I mean a person shouldn't even be able to walk into a courtroom with that one. However, suing NASA because they sell garden burgers at Cape Canaveral instead of real ones made with meat... now THERE'S a lawsuit.
Okay I know who I'm rooting for in the 2005 World Series of Poker. I'll be cheering on this 65-year-old guy who thought he was entering a $10 online poker tournament and realized halfway through that it was for $10,000 AND a spot at the WSoP. I know he's a long shot and all but I really don't think I can take much more of these snot-nosed 21-year-old online poker punks. I just want to reach into the TV and bitchslap them into their pile of poker chips. Last year I was rooting for Chris Ferguson and Doyle Brunson, because Ferguson looks like a cowboy Jesus and Doyle Brunson is just a class act at the tables.
A couple of weeks ago I was watching the Young Bloods blah blah poker tournament and laughing my ass off. Erin Ness (who was lookin kinda bangin) and David Williams (the runner-up in the 2004 WSoP Main Event) were the last two standing. She started flirting with him and he took his mind off the game and started flirting back. By the time he realized what she was up to she had cut out a nice chunk off his chip lead. Sucka!
I'm a bit bummed that Sandra Day O'Connor is stepping down. I'm a fan of hers. After all, at UC Santa Cruz I took on 100 angry lesbians in her defense. Everyone in the classroom bitched about how awful she was, how little she did for women's rights. After twenty minutes of their blathering I finally stood up and said that I thought she was doing the best thing she could ever do for women's rights, fulfilling her duties as a Supreme Court Justice without being biased by agendas specific to her gender. Naturally after class I almost got my ass beat by some of the hairiest women on the planet. Their faces were mottled with rage, so I didn't think flirting my way out of it would be an efficient plan of action. In the end I held them off with a well-timed "Look!!! It's kd lang!!" and ran off into the woods.
As always, when I'm relatively uninspired I start fishing around for random news stories. So um, yeah. Oh and I'm too lazy to segue properly, just so you know.
This article on what men feel are the worst insults to them made me laugh. I don't know why but I just smirked while reading the whole thing. I think it was the part about the top male fantasies being:
1. End world hunger.
2. Be a world famous sports star.
3. Marry a supermodel.
I picture guys in their bedrooms with the door locked, jerking off to UNICEF brochures, with "We Are The World" playing in the background to set the mood. Oh and of course the hand lotion in use was NOT tested on animals thank you very much.
I'm a little tired of all the news articles about accidental koran, bible, flag, whatever burnings. Who fucking cares. No seriously. I am wishing police would focus more of their manpower on say, murders, rapes, kidnappings... you know, serious crimes. Or, how about someone catches a car thief every so often? I'd take that, considering how many cars we've had stolen. Although to be honest, I get a good laugh every time people in this country scream religious persecution and racism and sexism and holy, racist, sexism and it turns out to be just some dork who left a candle burning. Then again, there are probably a lot of precincts out there where the cops are just bored and I guess we have to alleviate their boredom somehow, or they get all gung ho when there are actual crimes. Beat the shit out of people for jaywalking.
It kind of bugs that anyone can sue anyone for pretty much anything. I mean I understand that the First World is a fairly litigious one, especially when one or both of the parties are American. But really... suing NASA because their actions affected... astrology? I mean a person shouldn't even be able to walk into a courtroom with that one. However, suing NASA because they sell garden burgers at Cape Canaveral instead of real ones made with meat... now THERE'S a lawsuit.
Okay I know who I'm rooting for in the 2005 World Series of Poker. I'll be cheering on this 65-year-old guy who thought he was entering a $10 online poker tournament and realized halfway through that it was for $10,000 AND a spot at the WSoP. I know he's a long shot and all but I really don't think I can take much more of these snot-nosed 21-year-old online poker punks. I just want to reach into the TV and bitchslap them into their pile of poker chips. Last year I was rooting for Chris Ferguson and Doyle Brunson, because Ferguson looks like a cowboy Jesus and Doyle Brunson is just a class act at the tables.
A couple of weeks ago I was watching the Young Bloods blah blah poker tournament and laughing my ass off. Erin Ness (who was lookin kinda bangin) and David Williams (the runner-up in the 2004 WSoP Main Event) were the last two standing. She started flirting with him and he took his mind off the game and started flirting back. By the time he realized what she was up to she had cut out a nice chunk off his chip lead. Sucka!
I'm a bit bummed that Sandra Day O'Connor is stepping down. I'm a fan of hers. After all, at UC Santa Cruz I took on 100 angry lesbians in her defense. Everyone in the classroom bitched about how awful she was, how little she did for women's rights. After twenty minutes of their blathering I finally stood up and said that I thought she was doing the best thing she could ever do for women's rights, fulfilling her duties as a Supreme Court Justice without being biased by agendas specific to her gender. Naturally after class I almost got my ass beat by some of the hairiest women on the planet. Their faces were mottled with rage, so I didn't think flirting my way out of it would be an efficient plan of action. In the end I held them off with a well-timed "Look!!! It's kd lang!!" and ran off into the woods.
April 14, 2005
Things Women Like Men To Know
Things Women Like Men To Know
This article on what men should know about women made me laugh. I don't agree with everything, but most of it is on point.
Some things men should know about women like me:
1. We dislike being nagged. If you told us once and we didn't do it then find some other way to tell us again that isn't nagging.
2. There are certain instances when I want to be lied to. There are some lies that should just be told. No deathbed confessions either, those are just selfish. Whoever said every relationship needs absolute honesty was an idiot. Like your girl is really going to benefit if you tell her that the chick at Dairy Queen is hotter than her. Like some guy really wants to hear that your ex has a penis that made Tommy Lee weep with shame.
3. Don't try to have a conversation during football or 24. Unless it's during a commercial break and it's about the game/episode.
4. Men should not drink alcoholic drinks with any type of fruity anything in it. Women can barely get away with it. And if I ask if you want a shot but you don't have a high tolerance for liquor, you can still decline and feel manly. It's harder to feel manly when you do the shots then get wasted and start crying over your ex.
5. I do not like men who are overly sensitive, but I also dislike men who refuse to grow up and still cultivate the frat boy image. You can be sensitive without being a weak pansy and strong without being insensitive. Find the happy medium.
6. Chris Rock is right, women need "food, water and compliments" but it has to be good food, good beverages and good compliments. That's in order of importance. Examples of bad compliments: "You're hot." "I like how small you are." "I'm a fan of Filipino women." Examples of good compliments: "You make me laugh." "You have good taste in restaurants." "You're right, that WAS an awesome drink." "You're really smart." The "Your hair smells nice" compliment can go either way. It's good if it comes from a guy you like and downright creepy if it comes from anyone else, like why the hell are you smelling my hair you freak.
7. I hate chick flicks. I mean DESPISE them. There are a few exceptions to the rule, namely Ever After, Steel Magnolias, Never Been Kissed, Honey and Sixteen Candles. But that's it. So don't suggest I watch any. Honestly, guys who enjoy chick flicks creep me out.
8. Just because I'm blunt doesn't mean I'm a complete ass. I dislike racist slurs and homophobia (I mean REAL homophobia not just guys who are homowkward) so don't think you're impressing me with your manliness. All that's being impressed upon me is that you're an idiot.
9. I can be high-maintenance, not in terms of money, but in terms of effort which is probably worse. Like for our anniversary, if Geo gets me some random piece of jewelry I will be pleased. But if he springs for a really nice, brand-new Hoover vaccuum because every day he sees me cursing at our piece of crap old one that smells like burning rubber and won't pick up hair, then I will be BEYOND pleased. Then again last year for our anniversary, he got me Aerosmith tickets so that was pretty damn good too.
10. I have a bad temper but it takes a lot to get there and it gets worse if you let it fester. I am not that woman that pretends everything is fine, or who sulks and makes you guess what you did wrong. I like to yell. So just let me blow up at you, then we can be over it within minutes and moving on with our lives. I can't hold grudges.
11. I dislike crying in front of people, but if during a fight I get upset enough to go to the other room so I can cry, you better believe I am going to be pissed as fuck when I get out. Best to just avoid it.
12. I don't care about your car. I don't care about that car model you met at Hot Import Nights. I don't care about the Knicks this season. I don't care about Survivor. I don't care about how your computer needs more memory. So if those are the only things you can discuss, shut up and we'll just drink.
13. If I take a long breath before speaking, don't stick around to hear what I have to say. Trust me, you won't like it.
14. If you don't get along with my friends both male and female, then we have a problem.
This article on what men should know about women made me laugh. I don't agree with everything, but most of it is on point.
Some things men should know about women like me:
1. We dislike being nagged. If you told us once and we didn't do it then find some other way to tell us again that isn't nagging.
2. There are certain instances when I want to be lied to. There are some lies that should just be told. No deathbed confessions either, those are just selfish. Whoever said every relationship needs absolute honesty was an idiot. Like your girl is really going to benefit if you tell her that the chick at Dairy Queen is hotter than her. Like some guy really wants to hear that your ex has a penis that made Tommy Lee weep with shame.
3. Don't try to have a conversation during football or 24. Unless it's during a commercial break and it's about the game/episode.
4. Men should not drink alcoholic drinks with any type of fruity anything in it. Women can barely get away with it. And if I ask if you want a shot but you don't have a high tolerance for liquor, you can still decline and feel manly. It's harder to feel manly when you do the shots then get wasted and start crying over your ex.
5. I do not like men who are overly sensitive, but I also dislike men who refuse to grow up and still cultivate the frat boy image. You can be sensitive without being a weak pansy and strong without being insensitive. Find the happy medium.
6. Chris Rock is right, women need "food, water and compliments" but it has to be good food, good beverages and good compliments. That's in order of importance. Examples of bad compliments: "You're hot." "I like how small you are." "I'm a fan of Filipino women." Examples of good compliments: "You make me laugh." "You have good taste in restaurants." "You're right, that WAS an awesome drink." "You're really smart." The "Your hair smells nice" compliment can go either way. It's good if it comes from a guy you like and downright creepy if it comes from anyone else, like why the hell are you smelling my hair you freak.
7. I hate chick flicks. I mean DESPISE them. There are a few exceptions to the rule, namely Ever After, Steel Magnolias, Never Been Kissed, Honey and Sixteen Candles. But that's it. So don't suggest I watch any. Honestly, guys who enjoy chick flicks creep me out.
8. Just because I'm blunt doesn't mean I'm a complete ass. I dislike racist slurs and homophobia (I mean REAL homophobia not just guys who are homowkward) so don't think you're impressing me with your manliness. All that's being impressed upon me is that you're an idiot.
9. I can be high-maintenance, not in terms of money, but in terms of effort which is probably worse. Like for our anniversary, if Geo gets me some random piece of jewelry I will be pleased. But if he springs for a really nice, brand-new Hoover vaccuum because every day he sees me cursing at our piece of crap old one that smells like burning rubber and won't pick up hair, then I will be BEYOND pleased. Then again last year for our anniversary, he got me Aerosmith tickets so that was pretty damn good too.
10. I have a bad temper but it takes a lot to get there and it gets worse if you let it fester. I am not that woman that pretends everything is fine, or who sulks and makes you guess what you did wrong. I like to yell. So just let me blow up at you, then we can be over it within minutes and moving on with our lives. I can't hold grudges.
11. I dislike crying in front of people, but if during a fight I get upset enough to go to the other room so I can cry, you better believe I am going to be pissed as fuck when I get out. Best to just avoid it.
12. I don't care about your car. I don't care about that car model you met at Hot Import Nights. I don't care about the Knicks this season. I don't care about Survivor. I don't care about how your computer needs more memory. So if those are the only things you can discuss, shut up and we'll just drink.
13. If I take a long breath before speaking, don't stick around to hear what I have to say. Trust me, you won't like it.
14. If you don't get along with my friends both male and female, then we have a problem.
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