I would like to point out a little bit of humor in the groundhog's day that is my life. You'll recall from such blogs as this (© Anthony Bourdain), that common sense is dead and buried. Well, I had common sense rise from the dead a la Jesus of Nazareth only to be shot in the head by the a roving gang of fucktards.
I'm standing in the self check out line at the grocery store yesterday. Of the four self check out machines, three of them are occupied and one is open. The screen on the open machine is completely black and there is a crate that was placed up-side down on top of the screen so as to indicate the painfully obvious "This shit ain't working" symbol. There is an annoying family (mother, two daughters) behind me with whom I share this wonderful interaction:
Polly Numb-Nuts: Excuse me, sir. Are you going to use that machine?
Me: I'm pretty sure that machine isn't working.
PNN: Well, the green light above it is on, so it should be working.
Me: Yeah, but the screen isn't even on.
PNN: I don't see why that means anything. If the green light is on then the machine should be working.
I almost shot myself in the face just to get away from her as fast as possible. But wait, THERE'S MORE! Polly Numb-Nuts then proceeds to ask the self check out overseer if the machine is working! It's almost like she wanted me to push her on the floor and run screaming out of the store. The best part is the overseer and I share a glance of "Is this bitch for real?!" before the overseer finally says "Well the screen is off and there is a crate covering the machine, so no." I couldn't hold in the chuckles that ensued.
There is no point to this post besides to reiterate how the dumb live among you. Just remember that they are hard to detect because they look just like you and I...until they open their mouths. If you encounter one of these feral beasts in the wild please flee to the closest normal human haven and report the incident immediately.
Showing posts with label idiots at the gates. Show all posts
Showing posts with label idiots at the gates. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Friday, August 5, 2011
Parenting Should Require a License
Chances are you had a time in your life where you hated or at least strongly disliked your parents. Either justifiably or out of your own disdain for their rules, you decided that they were bad parents for that period of time and you actively did whatever you could to piss them off to the highest level of pisstivity (©Walter Jackson #highschoolquotes). We've all been there, but this isn't going to be one of those discussions. This is going to be about the truly horrible parents of the world. The people whom you see every day and ask yourself how the state hasn't taken away their children and locked the parents in a dog kennel.
On a bright, sunny spring day back in 2007, I was driving eastbound on good ol' Central Street in Evanston. Just coming home from arewarding, fulfilling, totally worth it completely horrible day at work. I had my music blaring and I was in complete relax mode. As I'm cruising along, a woman pushing an infant in a stroller just decides to cross the street...directly in front of my moving car. She wasn't at a crosswalk, there was no cop controlling traffic, there was no traffic light; she just decided that crossing in the middle of a fairly busy street while pushing a baby in a GOD DAMNED STROLLER (into on-coming traffic) was a really good idea. I lost it. I screamed "You fucking worthless idiot!" out of my driver-side window at the woman who looked at me as if I had offended her...good because she offended me deeply.
I've had several opportunities to shout at shitty parents in the years since. It almost seems like some parents go out of their way to put their children in the most dangerous situations possible. We wonder how kids drown in the backyard pool or get abducted from the front yard when half of these parents wouldn't notice if you replaced their child with a doberman. I'm not blaming all parents of abducted children for the abduction, that would be obnoxiously ignorant. But we cannot disavow the connection between idiot, non-attentive parents and child abduction, that would also be obnoxiously ignorant.
Bad parenting goes way beyond putting children in danger, though. I'm sure we all have some weird hang-up due to the mental scars our parents blessed us with. Whether they made fun of your weight, or your intelligence, or how you've somehow failed to live up to their expectations we all know from personal experience or witnessing through close friends the damage done by parental berating and nit-picking. There is two sides to this coin: all of the over-praised, you-can't-do-anything-wrong, self-glorifying abominations that live among us. The kind of people who grow up to date-rape women and not feel the slightest bit of remorse. That is an extreme example, but you get the point. It almost seems as if most parents don't understand that there is a middle ground and you don't have to swing to one of the polar extremes. Just like everything else in this country, people assume you have to be on one side or the other, but the middle usually yields better results.
Look, my mom didn't do the perfect job raising us (can't you tell?), but she did a damn good job considering the circumstances. Being a single mom in the projects surrounded by gangs and drugs and not having one of us get involved in anything remotely shady or illegal takes a lot of luck and even more good parenting. We always thought our mom was hard on us coming up, but looking back we see that she had to be. She did the right amount of discipline and encouragement to make us not feel like we had to go out and do outrageous things for whatever purpose kids do outrageous things. Hmm...balance what a novel idea.
If bad parents put half the effort into raising their kids as they did into their outfits and finding out what time the club opens, this country would have something to look forward to. The bad parents far outnumber the good parents (by my totally valid and in-depth research) and, as far as I can tell, have kids like mogwai-rabbit hybrids on Viagra in a swimming pool (let it sink in). What is the answer? Selective sterilization? Maybe. Perhaps we need a government agency that gives a limited number of parenting licenses per year to deserving, responsible adults and we can criminalize unlicensed births? No? Too much like China for you? That's ok, we all know it would never happen (for a million ethical and logical reasons). Besides, the government is much better at doing the fucking as opposed to controlling it.
On a bright, sunny spring day back in 2007, I was driving eastbound on good ol' Central Street in Evanston. Just coming home from a
I've had several opportunities to shout at shitty parents in the years since. It almost seems like some parents go out of their way to put their children in the most dangerous situations possible. We wonder how kids drown in the backyard pool or get abducted from the front yard when half of these parents wouldn't notice if you replaced their child with a doberman. I'm not blaming all parents of abducted children for the abduction, that would be obnoxiously ignorant. But we cannot disavow the connection between idiot, non-attentive parents and child abduction, that would also be obnoxiously ignorant.
Bad parenting goes way beyond putting children in danger, though. I'm sure we all have some weird hang-up due to the mental scars our parents blessed us with. Whether they made fun of your weight, or your intelligence, or how you've somehow failed to live up to their expectations we all know from personal experience or witnessing through close friends the damage done by parental berating and nit-picking. There is two sides to this coin: all of the over-praised, you-can't-do-anything-wrong, self-glorifying abominations that live among us. The kind of people who grow up to date-rape women and not feel the slightest bit of remorse. That is an extreme example, but you get the point. It almost seems as if most parents don't understand that there is a middle ground and you don't have to swing to one of the polar extremes. Just like everything else in this country, people assume you have to be on one side or the other, but the middle usually yields better results.
Look, my mom didn't do the perfect job raising us (can't you tell?), but she did a damn good job considering the circumstances. Being a single mom in the projects surrounded by gangs and drugs and not having one of us get involved in anything remotely shady or illegal takes a lot of luck and even more good parenting. We always thought our mom was hard on us coming up, but looking back we see that she had to be. She did the right amount of discipline and encouragement to make us not feel like we had to go out and do outrageous things for whatever purpose kids do outrageous things. Hmm...balance what a novel idea.
If bad parents put half the effort into raising their kids as they did into their outfits and finding out what time the club opens, this country would have something to look forward to. The bad parents far outnumber the good parents (by my totally valid and in-depth research) and, as far as I can tell, have kids like mogwai-rabbit hybrids on Viagra in a swimming pool (let it sink in). What is the answer? Selective sterilization? Maybe. Perhaps we need a government agency that gives a limited number of parenting licenses per year to deserving, responsible adults and we can criminalize unlicensed births? No? Too much like China for you? That's ok, we all know it would never happen (for a million ethical and logical reasons). Besides, the government is much better at doing the fucking as opposed to controlling it.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
The End is Nigh...Again
I saw online yesterday that there is a lake in Texas that turned blood red and is filled with dead fish. In this same article I read how some groups (read: most Wal-Mart patrons) feel that this is a sign of the "End Times". Here we go again...
Bloody lake in Texas aside, how many times in just your own life have you heard or read about some group of religious zealots claiming that Event X is a sign of the end times? The fact that you're even able to ramble through the times you've heard this in your head should be enough to send you into a hysterical laughing fit complete with tears and yelps of hilarity. At least 3 or 4 times a year some dick, some putz, some yo-yo (©George Carlin) comes out and tells us to stock up on Bibles and meth because the end is nigh...and then we all wake up the next day. You'd think at this point even the mindless flock who follow these jackasses would say enough is enough.
First let's deal with the psychosis that would make one think that he/she can predict something like the end of the world. Where does one get an education on Apocalypse prediction? Is there a certification process? Can you study it in a lab? Where does this magical ability come from? If I woke tomorrow and told you I could predict the winner of the Super Bowl in 2037 you'd call me a rambling nut job because there is absolutely no way to tell what the NFL is going to look like 26 years from now. If we can agree that predicting the winner of a trivial football competition years into the future is a hideously dumb idea, why can't some people apply that same logic to something as important as THE END OF ALL LIFE ON THE FUCKING PLANET?!
The best part about the end times mongoloids are the actual explanations they provide that usually involve some combination of "scientific" research, astonishingly self-serving Biblical interpretation, divine communication, and lack of contact with intelligent life forms. They provide no proof, just examples of natural catastrophes in a short period of time and psychobabble. Somehow these people are given air-time on supposedly serious programs to discuss something that a 10 year old can see is the biggest bullshit since OJ Simpson and the "real killers". The picture of a deranged pastor from a 20 member congregation somewhere in the rural cesspools of America is the image I get whenever I hear about these "predictions" and rarely have I been proven wrong. That isn't to say that this is an accurate depiction of rural America as a whole, just the psychotic parts (let's call it 70-85%).
I can't forget the people who follow these "prophets". There must be a specific genetic mutation that prohibits the followers from making rational, logic-based decisions. There is no other way to look at it. Why else would you take on the utterly loony (let alone blasphemous) notion that some guy who can't predict the next time he has to go pee can tell you when the world will end? I understand the need to believe in a higher power, but that is no excuse for following every snake oil sales man who comes along shouting Bible verse and claiming that God speaks to him. If this is seriously all it takes for people to follow your commands and fork over large sums of money to you, then I need to brush up on my Corinthians.
It is more than reasonable to assume the Earth will be here long after man is gone. This relatively small blue-green orb will continue to revolve around a bright gaseous bulb just like has done for billions of years. We are no more important to the Earth than the dinosaurs were; and when she's done with us she'll shake us off and keep on rollin'. That isn't a prediction, that is a fact. To all of these psychotic end times believers I have a proposition: How about you stop prognosticating about when the world will end and give me a date on when you'll stop selling your idiocy to anyone who will listen? That is a question I'd much rather have you attempt to answer.
Bloody lake in Texas aside, how many times in just your own life have you heard or read about some group of religious zealots claiming that Event X is a sign of the end times? The fact that you're even able to ramble through the times you've heard this in your head should be enough to send you into a hysterical laughing fit complete with tears and yelps of hilarity. At least 3 or 4 times a year some dick, some putz, some yo-yo (©George Carlin) comes out and tells us to stock up on Bibles and meth because the end is nigh...and then we all wake up the next day. You'd think at this point even the mindless flock who follow these jackasses would say enough is enough.
First let's deal with the psychosis that would make one think that he/she can predict something like the end of the world. Where does one get an education on Apocalypse prediction? Is there a certification process? Can you study it in a lab? Where does this magical ability come from? If I woke tomorrow and told you I could predict the winner of the Super Bowl in 2037 you'd call me a rambling nut job because there is absolutely no way to tell what the NFL is going to look like 26 years from now. If we can agree that predicting the winner of a trivial football competition years into the future is a hideously dumb idea, why can't some people apply that same logic to something as important as THE END OF ALL LIFE ON THE FUCKING PLANET?!
The best part about the end times mongoloids are the actual explanations they provide that usually involve some combination of "scientific" research, astonishingly self-serving Biblical interpretation, divine communication, and lack of contact with intelligent life forms. They provide no proof, just examples of natural catastrophes in a short period of time and psychobabble. Somehow these people are given air-time on supposedly serious programs to discuss something that a 10 year old can see is the biggest bullshit since OJ Simpson and the "real killers". The picture of a deranged pastor from a 20 member congregation somewhere in the rural cesspools of America is the image I get whenever I hear about these "predictions" and rarely have I been proven wrong. That isn't to say that this is an accurate depiction of rural America as a whole, just the psychotic parts (let's call it 70-85%).
I can't forget the people who follow these "prophets". There must be a specific genetic mutation that prohibits the followers from making rational, logic-based decisions. There is no other way to look at it. Why else would you take on the utterly loony (let alone blasphemous) notion that some guy who can't predict the next time he has to go pee can tell you when the world will end? I understand the need to believe in a higher power, but that is no excuse for following every snake oil sales man who comes along shouting Bible verse and claiming that God speaks to him. If this is seriously all it takes for people to follow your commands and fork over large sums of money to you, then I need to brush up on my Corinthians.
It is more than reasonable to assume the Earth will be here long after man is gone. This relatively small blue-green orb will continue to revolve around a bright gaseous bulb just like has done for billions of years. We are no more important to the Earth than the dinosaurs were; and when she's done with us she'll shake us off and keep on rollin'. That isn't a prediction, that is a fact. To all of these psychotic end times believers I have a proposition: How about you stop prognosticating about when the world will end and give me a date on when you'll stop selling your idiocy to anyone who will listen? That is a question I'd much rather have you attempt to answer.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Not Today Man, It's Monday
I don't have to go on a rant about how Monday mornings are the worst thing since Hitler's birth because you are probably living a Monday morning hell as we speak. I will talk about something that makes the worst day of the week exponentially worse: "The how was your weekend?" questions. I'm not just talking about that one specific question, but the long list of questions people around your cubicle concentration camp let slide out of there mouths with mindless abandon. A guy knows you're a big Dodgers fan? Expect him to mention the Dodgers every time you see his slack-jawed face. That really annoying chick in Marketing? She's going to ask you how your wife/girlfriend/booty call is doing every time she sees you because she saw the two of you in a restaurant together 9 months ago. Everyone is going to put their most chipper, chatty foot forward on this lovely morning and it makes me want to slowly push them into traffic. You don't have to say anything...I know you agree with me.
Don't get me wrong, I don't look down on people for trying to be convivial with the other schmucks they have to stomach for at least 40 grueling hours a week when none of us really want to be here. I get that, I really do. What I don't get is the forced nature of these interactions. For instance, you know the guy who always seems to be walking out of the bathroom/kitchen/building whenever you're going in? How many times a day do the two of you have to pretend to genuinely enjoy awkward head nod hellos? Once? Every time you see him? What is the statute of limitations on disingenuous greetings? Even worse, Have you ever had someone actually respond to the how's it going?/How was your weekend? question by actually stopping to tell you how they are doing? JESUS H. GODDAMMED CHRIST! Are you shitting me? I actually have to stand here and here you ramble about your kid's ear infection while holding this "Aw, that is so sad face"? Shoot me...shoot me in the eye right now!!
Monday is the one day every week that people should be able to be as honest as they want to be. I don't mean the bullshit excuse people use to be assholes known as "brutal honesty", I'm talking about real honesty. The "I'm going to walk directly past you and not say hi because both of us are miserable and don't want to be here" honesty. We can chit chat about the weather, your favorite hot dog place, or the amazing cinematic efforts of the (shitty) movie you just saw on Friday...the only appropriate day of the week to be happy for no reason.
I know some people feel it makes them a good person to smile and say hello to everyone. I'm not one of those people. I think anyone who can give you the reasons as to why they think they are a good person is an assbag. Being a good person isn't some set of preordained actions that you have to master and acquire an appropriate score on; nowhere in the Bible/Koran/Torah/Penthouse magazine does it say fake smiles and manufactured politeness is the key to spiritual awakening and eternal salvation. There is nothing inherently bad about small talk, but it's Monday so please in the name of all that is holy leave me the fuck alone. Thanks and have a great day!
Don't get me wrong, I don't look down on people for trying to be convivial with the other schmucks they have to stomach for at least 40 grueling hours a week when none of us really want to be here. I get that, I really do. What I don't get is the forced nature of these interactions. For instance, you know the guy who always seems to be walking out of the bathroom/kitchen/building whenever you're going in? How many times a day do the two of you have to pretend to genuinely enjoy awkward head nod hellos? Once? Every time you see him? What is the statute of limitations on disingenuous greetings? Even worse, Have you ever had someone actually respond to the how's it going?/How was your weekend? question by actually stopping to tell you how they are doing? JESUS H. GODDAMMED CHRIST! Are you shitting me? I actually have to stand here and here you ramble about your kid's ear infection while holding this "Aw, that is so sad face"? Shoot me...shoot me in the eye right now!!
Monday is the one day every week that people should be able to be as honest as they want to be. I don't mean the bullshit excuse people use to be assholes known as "brutal honesty", I'm talking about real honesty. The "I'm going to walk directly past you and not say hi because both of us are miserable and don't want to be here" honesty. We can chit chat about the weather, your favorite hot dog place, or the amazing cinematic efforts of the (shitty) movie you just saw on Friday...the only appropriate day of the week to be happy for no reason.
I know some people feel it makes them a good person to smile and say hello to everyone. I'm not one of those people. I think anyone who can give you the reasons as to why they think they are a good person is an assbag. Being a good person isn't some set of preordained actions that you have to master and acquire an appropriate score on; nowhere in the Bible/Koran/Torah/Penthouse magazine does it say fake smiles and manufactured politeness is the key to spiritual awakening and eternal salvation. There is nothing inherently bad about small talk, but it's Monday so please in the name of all that is holy leave me the fuck alone. Thanks and have a great day!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
I Hate Your Phone
Do you remember where you were when the cell phone became the most important device on the face of the planet? I must've slept through it. At some point in the past 10-12 years, the cell phone made a power move to own our lives and everyone knelt down and said "Your wish is my command" in unison. Really what invention can stand up to the awe created by a shiny, new cell phone being waved in your face at a deeply discounted price? Don't worry I'll wait...© Kat Williams.
Of course, I'm just being an ass. I hate your cell phone. I hate my cell phone. I hate the cell phones of people I've never even seen. Have you ever been talking to someone about a matter that you find to be fairly important and wanted to punch them directly in the fronal lobe as they reply to a text mid sentence? Have you ever witnessed some biological mistake completely disregard your life to answer a call about how awesome last night's episode of 'The Bachelor' was? Then you feel my pain. If you are one of the people who routinely commits one of these atrocities then happily go DIAF.
I love standing in line at Restaurant X and noticing how every person in the line has to stop at some point and look at their cell. You couldn't have possibley missed a call or text or video or email since you last checked your phone 10 miliseconds ago. If you did get a phone call, we'd all know about it because your portable iriation device will spew some rythmic abortion into the air to ear-rape us all. How nice of you! You know what would be even more super awesome of you? If, when you do get a call, you can scream every single word of it at so that I can hear exatly how big of an asshole Mike is or how much you hate Audrey because "she's such a batch!". That would really make my day.
Everyday people walk down the street gazing into their cell phones with little to no regard for all of the people they are rudely staggering into. People drive home from work picking up their phone whenever it buzzes, hums, or sings because they just can't wait to hear what their single-cell brained companion on the other end has to say. Meanwhile all of us regular folk have to swerve around John and Jane Q. Fuckstick as they make your drive home into vehicular dodgeball.
The point? Put the God dammned phone down and unplug long enough to realize that your phone is worthless. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go shopping for a new cell phone. Don't judge...I gotta get something nice with my upgrade
Of course, I'm just being an ass. I hate your cell phone. I hate my cell phone. I hate the cell phones of people I've never even seen. Have you ever been talking to someone about a matter that you find to be fairly important and wanted to punch them directly in the fronal lobe as they reply to a text mid sentence? Have you ever witnessed some biological mistake completely disregard your life to answer a call about how awesome last night's episode of 'The Bachelor' was? Then you feel my pain. If you are one of the people who routinely commits one of these atrocities then happily go DIAF.
I love standing in line at Restaurant X and noticing how every person in the line has to stop at some point and look at their cell. You couldn't have possibley missed a call or text or video or email since you last checked your phone 10 miliseconds ago. If you did get a phone call, we'd all know about it because your portable iriation device will spew some rythmic abortion into the air to ear-rape us all. How nice of you! You know what would be even more super awesome of you? If, when you do get a call, you can scream every single word of it at so that I can hear exatly how big of an asshole Mike is or how much you hate Audrey because "she's such a batch!". That would really make my day.
Everyday people walk down the street gazing into their cell phones with little to no regard for all of the people they are rudely staggering into. People drive home from work picking up their phone whenever it buzzes, hums, or sings because they just can't wait to hear what their single-cell brained companion on the other end has to say. Meanwhile all of us regular folk have to swerve around John and Jane Q. Fuckstick as they make your drive home into vehicular dodgeball.
The point? Put the God dammned phone down and unplug long enough to realize that your phone is worthless. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go shopping for a new cell phone. Don't judge...I gotta get something nice with my upgrade
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The Assassination of Common Sense Pt. 6
Long time no bored to death, huh?
So, I'll just jump right into this: common sense must be some sort of rare degenerative mental disorder that only a few people in the world get the pleasure of being stricken with. I've long held true the cliché that "common sense ain't so common", but now it's time to put away polite little sayings and deal with the reality that most people are lucky to not drown themselves while attempting to drink bottled water. Don't believe me? Read on...
Bumper Stickers are Billboards of Idiocy
Today as I'm making the drive West on Main St. in lovely Evanston, I pull up at a stop light behind a woman in a Prius with a bumper sticker that reads "Abortion is child abuse". Immediately I want to ram her car into the Chicago river and dance maniacally around her watery grave, but not for the reason you may think.
Now we won't get into my personal feelings on abortion because they have nothing to do with this story and you don't give a damn anyway. Her little tag of opinion incontinence just made me wonder why the hell people feel like you want to have their personal beliefs vomited all over your brain while driving. Are you actively looking to argue with people? Are you actively looking for your tires to be slashed and/or have your car keyed? Why, oh glorious lord, why?!
Secondly, have you ever had your opinion changed by a bumper sticker? (If you have, please let me know so that I can stop calling you a friend of mine and begin to pepper your car with sticky flags of my opinions.) The answer to the question is no, of course you haven't. Anytime you've seen a bumper sticker that wasn't humor-oriented, you've either A) agreed with what it says and wondered why the person felt it necessary to put it on their car or B) really wanted to ram that person's car for thinking you give a shit about their dim-witted beliefs.
Bumper stickers are for egotistic, self-centered, nut jobs who think other people deserve to witness their amazing intellectual discoveries...or simply put, douchebags. Moving on...
Are You Asking Me to Stab You?
After my foray into the mind of a moron, I stop at Jewel in Skokie to pick up some crackers to go with my lunch. I walk in, meander over to the cracker aisle, and then scramble to pick up my jaw when I see the price of saltines. Seriously, an 8 Oz box of Nabisco saltine crackers was like 3.70 or some shit. The fuck? So, now I'm just standing in a row of crackers being pissed off about the price of a small box of saltines when I notice that the box next to the ones I'm looking at is 2.69. Fuckin' Score!
Then my jaw hits the floor again when I see that it is the same Nabisco crackers as the box I was losing my shit about...only the cheaper one is 16 Oz. This can't be right. So, I try to make sense of this using my Mississippi public school (read: shitty) math skills. Magically, no math known to man can explain to me why one product is priced higher than the exact same product while giving you 100% more in the cheaper item. "Fuck it" I say and make my way to the self checkout. Ah, the self checkout.
So, I get to the line and realize that there are three self checkout machines in the line that I'm in, but only two of them are being used. Meanwhile, there is a line from here to the mythical location of Iraqi WMDs for the two machines that are already in use. I take one look at the empty machine, while not leaving my place in line, and I see the huge symbol for "This shit ain't working" on the screen and go back to standing in line with the other normal people.
Ex: This shit ain't working sign
This little trick doesn't work for the chick in the Metallica jacket who gets in line behind me. She proceeds to look at all of us in the line as if we're from West Virginia (Hey, you're the one in the Metallica jacket asshole!) and promptly walks over to the broken machine. After staring at it for about 15 seconds she finally becomes familiar with the aforementioned sign. Realizing that she is the one from West Virginia, she gets back into the line.
Moments later, as the line has grown to include several other West Virginians at this point and I have moved up to the front of the line, I hear "Excuse me, sir" from a very effeminate male voice in the line "Are you going to use that machine right there?". I turn around to see a freckle-faced kinda man who looks a lot like his voice would indicate and before I can ask him "Are you asking me to stab you?" Metallica broad politely tells him that the machine is broken. This brings me to the point...WHY THE HELL WOULD ALL THESE PEOPLE BE STANDING HERE IF THERE WAS A OPEN, WORKING MACHINE RIGHT THERE YOU FUCKING DOUCHESTAIN!!!!
Why must there always be some asshole in the line who figures everyone else is an idiot and only he/she has a working brain? No matter where you go, Albert Einstein's inbred cousin is always there to show you that he is an even bigger dumb ass than you thought God could ever grace the planet with. I wonder if that person goes home and rants to everyone about his inability to deduce much the same way that I rant about his propensity for making me want to beat them with a frozen ham?
Beware, these people live among you.
So, I'll just jump right into this: common sense must be some sort of rare degenerative mental disorder that only a few people in the world get the pleasure of being stricken with. I've long held true the cliché that "common sense ain't so common", but now it's time to put away polite little sayings and deal with the reality that most people are lucky to not drown themselves while attempting to drink bottled water. Don't believe me? Read on...
Bumper Stickers are Billboards of Idiocy
Today as I'm making the drive West on Main St. in lovely Evanston, I pull up at a stop light behind a woman in a Prius with a bumper sticker that reads "Abortion is child abuse". Immediately I want to ram her car into the Chicago river and dance maniacally around her watery grave, but not for the reason you may think.
Now we won't get into my personal feelings on abortion because they have nothing to do with this story and you don't give a damn anyway. Her little tag of opinion incontinence just made me wonder why the hell people feel like you want to have their personal beliefs vomited all over your brain while driving. Are you actively looking to argue with people? Are you actively looking for your tires to be slashed and/or have your car keyed? Why, oh glorious lord, why?!
Secondly, have you ever had your opinion changed by a bumper sticker? (If you have, please let me know so that I can stop calling you a friend of mine and begin to pepper your car with sticky flags of my opinions.) The answer to the question is no, of course you haven't. Anytime you've seen a bumper sticker that wasn't humor-oriented, you've either A) agreed with what it says and wondered why the person felt it necessary to put it on their car or B) really wanted to ram that person's car for thinking you give a shit about their dim-witted beliefs.
Bumper stickers are for egotistic, self-centered, nut jobs who think other people deserve to witness their amazing intellectual discoveries...or simply put, douchebags. Moving on...
Are You Asking Me to Stab You?
After my foray into the mind of a moron, I stop at Jewel in Skokie to pick up some crackers to go with my lunch. I walk in, meander over to the cracker aisle, and then scramble to pick up my jaw when I see the price of saltines. Seriously, an 8 Oz box of Nabisco saltine crackers was like 3.70 or some shit. The fuck? So, now I'm just standing in a row of crackers being pissed off about the price of a small box of saltines when I notice that the box next to the ones I'm looking at is 2.69. Fuckin' Score!
Then my jaw hits the floor again when I see that it is the same Nabisco crackers as the box I was losing my shit about...only the cheaper one is 16 Oz. This can't be right. So, I try to make sense of this using my Mississippi public school (read: shitty) math skills. Magically, no math known to man can explain to me why one product is priced higher than the exact same product while giving you 100% more in the cheaper item. "Fuck it" I say and make my way to the self checkout. Ah, the self checkout.
So, I get to the line and realize that there are three self checkout machines in the line that I'm in, but only two of them are being used. Meanwhile, there is a line from here to the mythical location of Iraqi WMDs for the two machines that are already in use. I take one look at the empty machine, while not leaving my place in line, and I see the huge symbol for "This shit ain't working" on the screen and go back to standing in line with the other normal people.
Ex: This shit ain't working sign
This little trick doesn't work for the chick in the Metallica jacket who gets in line behind me. She proceeds to look at all of us in the line as if we're from West Virginia (Hey, you're the one in the Metallica jacket asshole!) and promptly walks over to the broken machine. After staring at it for about 15 seconds she finally becomes familiar with the aforementioned sign. Realizing that she is the one from West Virginia, she gets back into the line.
Moments later, as the line has grown to include several other West Virginians at this point and I have moved up to the front of the line, I hear "Excuse me, sir" from a very effeminate male voice in the line "Are you going to use that machine right there?". I turn around to see a freckle-faced kinda man who looks a lot like his voice would indicate and before I can ask him "Are you asking me to stab you?" Metallica broad politely tells him that the machine is broken. This brings me to the point...WHY THE HELL WOULD ALL THESE PEOPLE BE STANDING HERE IF THERE WAS A OPEN, WORKING MACHINE RIGHT THERE YOU FUCKING DOUCHESTAIN!!!!
Why must there always be some asshole in the line who figures everyone else is an idiot and only he/she has a working brain? No matter where you go, Albert Einstein's inbred cousin is always there to show you that he is an even bigger dumb ass than you thought God could ever grace the planet with. I wonder if that person goes home and rants to everyone about his inability to deduce much the same way that I rant about his propensity for making me want to beat them with a frozen ham?
Beware, these people live among you.
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