Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Gateway to the West and the Beginnings of a Jihad
Labels:
Dating,
People Watching,
Pets,
Religion,
Travel,
White Trash
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Musings of a Peoplewatcher
One of the rules I tend to live by is thou shall not blog about work, and fortunately I have not only been able to live by it (save for a few bring your brats to work days), but I also still have a job. Anyway with a lead in like this, you know where we're going.
Well the other day my boss' boss' boss took me and a few others to lunch. She was also kind enough to drive, and her vehicle likely was the only one equipped to handle us five folks. Being taller than tall, I tend to be given the option to ride up front, which past experiences have always led me to take advantage of. I quickly hop in the front seat while four people, three with newborn babies and the fourth with young grandkids, tried to remove a child seat--you know, the kind that claim to be easy to remove. It took a good five plus minutes, and all along I couldn't help but think to myself, gee I could probably figure it out in five seconds and remove it in five more. the pleasure of watching it was so much more fun than any instant gratification of accomplishing the task.
Well the other day my boss' boss' boss took me and a few others to lunch. She was also kind enough to drive, and her vehicle likely was the only one equipped to handle us five folks. Being taller than tall, I tend to be given the option to ride up front, which past experiences have always led me to take advantage of. I quickly hop in the front seat while four people, three with newborn babies and the fourth with young grandkids, tried to remove a child seat--you know, the kind that claim to be easy to remove. It took a good five plus minutes, and all along I couldn't help but think to myself, gee I could probably figure it out in five seconds and remove it in five more. the pleasure of watching it was so much more fun than any instant gratification of accomplishing the task.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
We Live in a Sick Twisted World
Ok, that's nothing new. Really, we all kinda already knew this, but there are some times when it becomes painfully obvious. Never is it more clear to me than when I see something suggesting that I eat it or worse yet, watching it eat it's own. Suicide and cannibalism, two disturbing words, and two even more disturbing concepts.
What am I talking about? M&Ms suggesting you eat M&Ms or watching them eat their own. Worse yet, a trip to the annual rib festival is loaded with imagery of pigs, often angry or deranged, eating their own and suggesting that you do the same.
Apparently I'm not the only one bothered by this, as their is a blog devoted to circumstances like this.
Now those Chick-fil-A cows have it right. They are what's right with this world.
What am I talking about? M&Ms suggesting you eat M&Ms or watching them eat their own. Worse yet, a trip to the annual rib festival is loaded with imagery of pigs, often angry or deranged, eating their own and suggesting that you do the same.
Apparently I'm not the only one bothered by this, as their is a blog devoted to circumstances like this.
Now those Chick-fil-A cows have it right. They are what's right with this world.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Day of the (almost) Dead
Today I decided to be a good boy and do a bit of grocery shopping on my lunch break, so I could cook a nice dinner for my boo tonight. Being a bit of a meat snob, I tend to frequent only a couple of places to get ground up bits of cow and other critters, so I decided to go to The Andersons. The Andersons is a general store, kinda like one would find in the old west, but modernized to be more like a less Ozarky version of Walmart. Anyway they have good meat, and I could grab everything else I needed.
As I pulled in the parking lot, I noticed something was odd. No it wasn't the giant tent in the parking lot (some tool sale rather than Cirque de Soleil), rather the odd ratio of Cadillacs to other hoopties jumped to my mind. Being ever the optimist, I assumed there must have been some sale on pimp canes or purple velvet hats. Much to my horror, the store was packed with old people. Slow moving, wandering, almost zombified old people. Women in silly hats and men in shorts filled my eyes while a static hum of the feedback hearing aids filled my ears. Dudes wearing prescription socks (lord knows you're up shit's creek when the best tool a doctor has to treat your heart are socks) and lots of chick who needed prescription bras (an old lady might bruise their knees with those sad sagging not-so-fun bags) filled the aisles, as I tried to cut through traffic to get to the butcher. When I got their I saw more of the Geritol set holding lists, and it occurred to me that it was not only the first of the month, but also Tuesday--senior day. It was a perfect storm, and the shit was coming down on me.
My well intentioned trip to the store sucked ass, and it only got worse when I realized that they wheel out their chronologically gifted employees to work the registers on days like this. Fuck they should have given me a 20% discount for being young. When I get old I'm not going to be some slow moving zombie who clogs the aisles, even if I have to smoke crack to give me that added bit of pick-me-up I need. This will never happen to me!
As I pulled in the parking lot, I noticed something was odd. No it wasn't the giant tent in the parking lot (some tool sale rather than Cirque de Soleil), rather the odd ratio of Cadillacs to other hoopties jumped to my mind. Being ever the optimist, I assumed there must have been some sale on pimp canes or purple velvet hats. Much to my horror, the store was packed with old people. Slow moving, wandering, almost zombified old people. Women in silly hats and men in shorts filled my eyes while a static hum of the feedback hearing aids filled my ears. Dudes wearing prescription socks (lord knows you're up shit's creek when the best tool a doctor has to treat your heart are socks) and lots of chick who needed prescription bras (an old lady might bruise their knees with those sad sagging not-so-fun bags) filled the aisles, as I tried to cut through traffic to get to the butcher. When I got their I saw more of the Geritol set holding lists, and it occurred to me that it was not only the first of the month, but also Tuesday--senior day. It was a perfect storm, and the shit was coming down on me.
My well intentioned trip to the store sucked ass, and it only got worse when I realized that they wheel out their chronologically gifted employees to work the registers on days like this. Fuck they should have given me a 20% discount for being young. When I get old I'm not going to be some slow moving zombie who clogs the aisles, even if I have to smoke crack to give me that added bit of pick-me-up I need. This will never happen to me!
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