Yes, I'm shamelessly co-opting Stacey's peeve thing here, but she's not using it anymore, and there are children over in Africa starving for peeves! So we're just going to have to box up your extra ones that you didn't use and send them on over there, aren't we?
Today's peeve is all about WAITING ON HOLD!!!!! Yes, I know, in today's digital world, you well might wonder why in the Sam Hill any company would knowingly subject its customers to such an antiquated system as the telephone? Or, once they start down that dangerous path, why not go all the way back to telegraph, or teletype, or smoke signals, or faxing back and forth series of pencil drawn hieroglyphs or photos of drawings we each do, in turn, on the walls of caves?
The way I see it, there are 2 big plusses to allowing/encouraging email interactions with customer service:
1. You let people have time to actually write out what their problem/complaint/wish list actually IS at their own pace, and you automatically have a written record of it so they can't change what they said or were complaining about!
2. You no longer have customers who are SO PISSED OFF AFTER WAITING FOR 45 FUCKING MINUTES ON HOLD THAT THEY WOULD JUST AS SOON STRANGLE THEIR PET CAT STEVE AS THEY WOULD EVER SPEND ANOTHER THIN DIME ON ANY OF YOUR LOUSY ASS SHIT PRODUCTS, THAT'S FOR DAMN SURE!!!!!!!
So as you can see, it doesn't take a business degree from Harvard to lead a person to believe that, hey, for those of us with the magic of the interwebs at our fingers, yeah, verily 24 hours a day, why not give us a chance to interact with your great and mighty...um...ness at our own convenience?
And, yes, in case anyone's wondering, I have been on hold for quite a while over the past few days, thanks for asking.
So, I believe that Stacey and Nadi are in glamorous Las Vegas this weekend, so here's the peeve that she's probably cooking up right now! : )
Man, it's kind of hard to be peeve-ish when you're vacationing in Vegas...if you're anyone but ME, of course! I've been inundated by annoying people and things ever since we got off the plane, or even BEFORE that, if you can even count all the annoying children running around the Denver airport, who OF COURSE were ALSO GOING TO VEGAS!!! But that's the story for a different peeve...what I really want to talk about today is WAYNE NEWTON! If you go to Wayne's homepage, you'll see Wayne looking all cheesy and bloated under his self-applied title, Mr. Las Vegas!
So then, if you're an experienced user of the internets like myself, you'll cruise over to the "Wayne's Schedule" part of the site, and guess how many times you'll see Wayne scheduled to play in Vegas this month? Well, I'll give you a hint, it's what everyone on Springer will tell you to drop and get yourself a hero! That's right it's ZERO times! The same number of times Marilyn Monroe and Harry Houdini are playing! And they're dead!
So, as you can clearly see, Wayne Newton is in fact just Mr. Wears a Tuxedo with the Tie Undone All the Time, and not Mr. Las Vegas. So now we're going to have to fill the empty entertainment-deprived hours going to things like Cirque du Soleil, or maybe Sigfried and Roy's Secret Garden, which just SOUNDS too creepy for words...were they trying to think of a title that made people more likely to think of "inappropriate touching" and "swimsuit area" than Michael Jackson's Neverland, for god's sake?
So, until next week, just remember NOT to come to Vegas for the cheap buffet anymore, because these hotels can't just run out Smoked Foie Gras Benedict with Asparagus in a Black Truffle/Tarragon/Pinot Grigio reduction for $3.99 a head!
Teh FLU!!! I HAZ it!!! Or, at least, am getting over it!!! So today I mentioned this to my psychiatrist (just one of many people that a SupaStah must have in their entourage) and he somewhat chidingly informed me that I should really have gotten a flu shot, because this year the flu was manifesting quite nastily. I replied with ever so slight a smirk (ever so slight, I promise!) that I believe that the reason it's so bad is because everyone is getting flu shots. He TOTALLY misunderstood what I was saying and replied, (somewhat condescendingly, I must say), that oh, that wasn't true, flu shots do not weaken the immune system, they actually boost it, and what's causing it to be so much worse every year is that it's MUTATING!!! Well DUH! That's what I'm saying! That's right, I'm not here to gripe about the flu, I'm here to gripe about FLU SHOTS!!!! Why the HELL do you think the flu virus is suddenly mutating into more horrible forms?? Because we're screwing with it!! That's what I say. For many years now, since we've managed fairly modern medicinal practices, the flu has been an obnoxious inconvenience for everybody between the ages of like, 3 and 87. Now all of a sudden, it's imperative to get a damn flu shot every year. I wonder who's idea that is (pharmaceutical company)? In fact a year or so ago we had people panicking and all but rioting because there was a FLU SHOT SHORTAGE!!! They probably would have rioted if they could have gotten their flu-ey asses out of bed!!!! Well, I may be a grumpy old man, but I'm not yet an 87 year old grumpy old man, so the chance that I'm going to waltz my perfectly healthy ass into some infection-seethy clinic and purposefully PAY MONEY to get a SHOT when I don't absolutely have to... well, the Texans have a better chance of making it to the Superbowl, my friends. (Or, as Spellcheck suggests, the "Superb owl." That too.) . Now, I know some of you might think I'm a little sketchy on the old science front, or that maybe I should pay more attention to what my Psychiatrist tells me, "no REALLY, listen to your Psychiatrist, Stacey! Not those OTHER voices!!" Well, I happen to have visual evidence, so call me a crazed conspiracy theorist all you want, but the evidence speaks for itself. So stop getting flu shots!! Unless you're under 3, in which case- This Blog Is VERY BAD Thing To Read! Mommy Will Be Angry! You No Like Mommy When She Angry! STOP READING!!! Or, if you're over 87, in which case- my God! You probably have VERY FEW years left!! Why are you wasting them on this Blog!!!! Everyone else- the fate of the planet depends on YOU!!! And on the grey aliens (they're the most advanced type) choosing not to release flu strain OEX-32 on us, of course. Then were all done for.
Well, peeps, it just so happens to be an AMAZING 71degrees and sunny here in the CO, first day over 70 for the year, and I'll be darned if even I am not having some trouble feeling grumpy! But I know you wouldn't want me faking it, so I'll go bang my toe into the wall AAAAHHHH and watch a little CNN aaagghhh maybe ponder for a few minutes how STUPID the final episode of Enterprise was ackackack... O.K. that oughta do it. I'm gonna go with THE OVER GADGET-IZING OF AMERICA!!! today. See, I have this little stove-top alleged cappuccino maker that really doesn't do as great a job as it is hyped to do. So the last time I was in Starbutts (not it's real name) I looked at the machines they had and found a really nice one, all stainless and sexy, and looking pretty well made. So I wandered over to where they kept the stacks of boxes and saw that it cost $$$1,595.oo$$!!!! Yiiiyee! Who the HELL spends that much money on a cappuccino maker??? If I bought one of those things I'd have to set up the ol' card table in the front yard and start selling coffee to the neighbor kids. Or I could barter for lemonade, I guess. Screw you Uncle Sam!!! Needless to say, I chose NOT to empty my bank account on said item, and continued my search. Well, a few days later I found myself @ Lowe's, so I took a look at their small appliance section. First I was thinking I'd keep the questionable stove-top guy, and just get a small coffee maker (because my French Press broke in the damn dishwasher! Cheap piece o'crap!) but I couldn't find a coffee maker that made less than 10 cups. What the heck. That seems like a lot of coffee for a 2 adult household. Are people giving their kids a cup or two before they head off to school? Hmm, maybe. I finally decided on a combo model that makes a bizarre 10 cuppas, but the espresso side looked pretty decent. Just for fun I looked around at what else they had, and they had a HOME MEAT SLICER!!!!! Who ARE these people that slice their own meat?!?! Does the deli REALLY do THAT bad a job!!!! It's like hundreds of bucks for this thing! And home soft-serve-ice-cream machines!?!?? Just go to frikkin' Dairy Queen like everybody else, or eat your ice cream (gasp) HARD!!! How hard IS ice cream, anyway? In closing, I think you can justify the coffee machine because you'd probably save $200 bucks in 2 weeks by not going to that certain aforementioned coffee joint (that will hopefully not sue me into the ground), but what about the rest of this stuff? Ain't much cheaper than a soft serve cone @ Mickey D's, except maybe yo Mama at the end of a slow night (burn!). I can see a sausage stuffing machine maybe, you decide what goes in the sausage, but the meat slicer? Do we need to micro-manage our food to this extent? Do we need a separate gadget to: de-seed a mango, pit and slice an avocado, poach an egg, and wedge a melon? Did you know you can buy anti-cry goggles for peeling onions?!?!?
[sappy patriotic music in background and gently waving flag]
So, I'm about to single out a certain segment of society and give 'em Hell! But will my post be as potentially controversial as last weeks? NO!! Because this is not a segment considered off-limits to mock, and that is probably because most people agree with me!!! So, without further ado, I give you: GIRLS WHO WEAR A SIZE ZERO OR SIMILAR!!! First of all, what kind of dumb size is a size ZERO!?!? It's like you're non-existent. What if you're SUPER teeny tiny, do you go into negative numbers? (Maybe imaginary numbers. I always hated those. If you want a peeve w/in a peeve, this is it. I mean, if you can make up some number in order to make your equation work, does that really prove your equation? I think it's cheating. But, then again I know EVEN LESS about math then politics, so don't listen to me. Cheaters.). O.K., maybe you're thinking right about now that I'm being a little hard on these gals. You could argue that some people are just born with little birdy bones and couldn't eat themselves up to a size six if they tried. Or, maybe they just work really hard at staying that small and I shouldn't criticize them just because I'd rather sit here eating popcorn and working on this goofy blog then going out and Taebo-ing myself to death, or something. Well, that's all probably true. HOWEVER!!! I can't tell you how many times I've been in a dressing room and heard somebody yell, "Oh [insert name of overly friendly salesperson here], do you have this in a smaller size? This FOUR is toooo big!" Or "This TWO is just huge on me, do you carry ZEROS??" Well, again you're being unfair, you say, these poor chickadees can't help it if they're difficult to clothe!! AH-HA!!! But here's what you aren't taking into account, especially if you're a guy and you don't know about this odd phenomenon of hollering out requests for your shopping buddies to bring you clothing. NOBODY OVER A SIZE 8 DOES HOLLER THIS CRAP OUT LOUD!!! I can't say I've ever heard anybody yell "this size TEN really smooshes all my fat out in bizarre ways, do you have a TWELVE?!?! Or "This TWELVE is waaayy too small, do you carry PLUS SIZES!!! So perhaps I should amend my title to include "...AND ARE UNNECESSARILY LOUD ABOUT IT!!! or "...LIVE IN OUR DUMB SOCIETY THAT PRAISES THEM FOR SUCH AN 'ACCOMPLISHMENT'!!! Well, regardless, I hope I haven't offended my entire audience, 90% of which I KNOW to actually BE size zeros (as in "non-existent", anyway!) and have entertained the rest of my audience, which is Spencer.
Well, here it is, my long hinted at yet as not realized post that will shake you up and make you say "Hell-O Aunt Bessie! And it's NOT about how this year I DON'T WANT TO GET FIRST PICK IN THE UNCLE RICO'S DRAFT!! AND EVEN IF I DID I WOULDN'T PICK L.T.!!!., either, as shocking as that might be. Today I will discuss my annoyance with FLAMINGLY EFFEMINATE GAY MEN!!! Yeah, that's what I said. Now, before you all go running off to cover all traceable links you may have to me as friend/lover/sister/former shoe-salesperson, please allow me to first defend my statement and then explain why I think I have developed this quirk. In my defence, I believe I am well within my rights to make this statement. I have stated an annoyance for, not a hatred of, said gay men. Secondly, this is not an annoyance for ALL gaymen, simply the flamingly effeminate ones. Thirdly, I in no way think there is anything "wrong" with being gay in the first place, as I believe that homosexuality is determined before birth thanks to one's particular genes, and therefore acting on those impulses is perfectly natural. In addition to that, NO-ONE, I don't think, would take umbrage about a post in which I lambasted girly-girls, or "metro-sexual" guys, and my complaint about these aforementioned gay men is the same as those would be. Nor do I think any of those groups, yes, EVEN those darn facial-getting "metros", should give half a crap about what I or anyone else thinks, and should go on acting any way they want to. All in all it makes sense that I, as a bit of a "manly-girl", would hardly want to see a bunch of "girly-men" flitting about and making me look and feel even MORE manly!! What's with all this calling each other "ladies", "girls" or even, oddly enough, "bitches"? (I would, and HAVE, verbally lacerate(d) anyone who dared to call me that, even in jest.) No lesbians I have ever known, even the most "butch", called each other "dudes" or "boys"! Very Strange. And the whole giggling like a schoolgirl/gossiping constantly bit, as exhibited, say, on "Project Runway", is just the oddest thing to me (as it would be to the daughter of the kind of uber manly-man Dad that I have. He's the kind of guy that would duct tape his own arm back on after some power saw accident, and then finish the job.) And to be fair, I'm sure that the perfectly coiffed and delicate guy from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy (Carson somebody?), for example, has no desire to watch my non- mani/pedi'd self stomping around his T.V. screen, wondering how many times I can get away with "Febreezing" my shirts before I have to wash them! (approximately 3). So, now I begin my explanation of why I find myself with this particular annoyance. No matter how hard I might try, I will never be "un petite fleur", more "mule de paquet". Even when I'm all fancied up, I pretty much feel like Jeremy Shockey in a dress. Except that he has better hair. And maybe a better tattoo, although mine is pretty cool too, just smaller. And really, being a girl in the first place is not the greatest thing ever, except for having boobs and the ability to wear awesome shoes, it pretty much sucks. Unless you want to go through the "amazing"(!?!??!?!) process of giving birth, I suppose. DO NOT WANT!! So, in re-reading this, I have decided that it is not controversial at ALL, and that truly I have spent more time bashing myself than any FLAMINGLY EFFEMINATE GAY MAN, and that only the most annoyingly P.C. of people could have anything to say about this. And I'll bet, and I would LOVE to get a response on this, that even some gay men are annoyed with these guys, too. So there it is, finally! Now I just have to hope Spence doesn't pull out "hatred of...gay men" as one of his big block quote deallys. Plllllbbttt.
O.K., as promised, it's time for me to take off the proverbial kid gloves and just lay it ALL out there. I shouldn't be wearing kid gloves, of course, even proverbially, because they're made out of baby goats. But, since I am, I might as well tell you that they are the most delicate shade of shell pink, with tiny mother-of-pearl buttons up the side. Nice. But, enough nattering, and on to the rather shocking topic I have selected today, CHOCOLATE CAKE WITH WHITE ICING!!! What! you say, THIS is the controversy you promised, the post you said would sear our very souls? Well, actually, no. The thing is, I had forgotten that today was my birthday, and that I had already composed a very special post for that very occasion. So, all that exciting nonsense will just have to wait until next Monday, and you'll just have to come back again to read it. OOPS!! So, on to today's scintillating topic. Where to begin? Let's say it's your birthday, and laid out before you like the proverbial World-as-Oyster, is a lovely, whitely-icinged cake. It looks beyond delicious, and you begin to salivate just thinking of that light, fluffy, sugary icing. But then-- terror strikes your very heart--what lies beneath? An equally delicate layer of spongy vanilla-ish-ness, OR...Chocolate?!!?? Dense, black as the heart of any murderous scoundrel, and horribly unmatched with the gentle flavors above. Because THAT is the problem... it's like drinking a weak, fruity white wine with a burgundy stewed oxtail or something, it just clashes. Like eating clean, pure new snow along with a big clod of dirt. Now, if you look at a cake iced with chocolate icing, you have a 98% chance of getting a wonderful slice of cake, assuming someone hasn't insanely iced a strawberry or carrot cake with the stuff. But whenever you see that white expanse before you, you just can't know what you're getting until it's cut. The suspense is highly likely to kill you. So, I beg of you, save the white icing for a yellow cake, a strawberry cake, maybe even that carrot cake. Chocolate cake NEEDS chocolate icing. And in closing, just to show you how mean I am to baby goats, here's a little song I used to sing for Macchiato and Amelia when they were young and not big enough to sit on me and crush me instantly:
"These little goats are friends of mine, I'd like to cook them with some salt and thyme Just kiddin', Just kiddin', I'm just kiddin' around
These little goats are friends of mine, I'd like to serve them with some bread and wine Just kiddin', just kiddin', I'm just kiddin' around
These little goats are my best friends and I'm gonna eat 'em when this song ends! Just kiddin', just kiddin', I'm just kiddin' around!!!!"
That's right, those are question marks! And, no, there will be NO Peeve O' this Week. Why, you ask, weeping in disappointment? Because I am far too gleeful this week, posting shameful photos of you guys. And because I'm working on next weeks Peeve, which will be controversial, full of photos, and spectacular!!! You could call it "peevetacular!" So, tune in next Mon, or even, gasp, Sunday night??? mmmm, probably not. But, because you DO need your dose o' negativity THIS week, I have decided to critique one of the craptastic-ist songs I've heard in a damn long time. Here goes...Nickelback's "Rockstar"...
I'm through with standin' in line To clubs I'll never get in It's like the bottom of the ninth And I'm never gonna win This life hasn't turned out Quite the way I want it to be (Tell me what you want)
I want a brand new house On an episode of Cribs And a bathroom I can play baseball in And a king size tub big enough For ten plus me (Yeah, so tell what you need)
I'll need a.. a credit card that's got no limit And a big black jet with a bedroom in it Gonna join the mile high club At thirty-seven thousand feet (Been there done that)
I want a new tuned bus full of old guitars My own star on Hollywood Boulevard Somewhere between Cher and James Dean is fine for me (So how you gonna do it?)
I'm gonna trade this life for fortune and fame I'd even cut my hair and change my name
[CHORUS] 'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars And live in hilltop houses, driving fifteen cars The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat And we'll hang out in the coolest bars In the VIP with the movie stars Every good gold digger's Gonna wind up there Every Playboy bunny With her bleach blonde hair And well...
Hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar Hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar
I wanna be great like Elvis without the tassels Hire eight body guards that love to beat up assholes Sign a couple autographs So I can eat my meals for free (I'll have the quesadilla, ha ha)
I'm gonna dress my ass With the latest fashion Get a front door key to the Playboy mansion Gonna date a centerfold that loves to Blow my money for me (So how you gonna do it?)
I'm gonna trade this life For fortune and fame I'd even cut my hair And change my name
'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars and Live in hilltop houses driving fifteen cars The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat And we'll hang out in the coolest bars In the VIP with the movie stars Every good gold digger's Gonna wind up there Every Playboy bunny With her bleach blonde hair And we'll hide out in the private rooms With the latest dictionary of Today's who's who They'll get you anything with that evil smile Everybody's got a Drug dealer on speed dial, well Hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar
I'm gonna sing those songs That offend the censors Gonna pop my pills From a Pez dispenser
Get washed-up singers writing all my songs Lip synch 'em every night so I don't get 'em wrong
[Chorus AGAIN Pllllbbttt!]
Hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar Hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar
Oh, hell, what's there to critique? It's such a piece of crap you can figure it out for yourself. I mean, is there an original thought here ? It's just cliche after cliche after stereotype. Plus, is it supposed to be ironic, or what? Aren't these pathetic looooo-zers already rockstars? I don't get it. Not to mention it sounds like some chainsmoker singing in the Nashville cancer ward. When I first heard it I thought for sure it was some crossover country song, by Big and Rich or somebody. That could be a huge insult to them, I don't think I've ever heard anything by them before. It just sounds like it fits. So, write and say "Amen, sistah" or lemme know if you LIKE the damn thing, if you dare. But it's still a pile of poop. Sez me. And tune in next week for my stunning post, which I'm not totally sure I SHOULD post, but I figure I'll be dead in a few days anyway, as soon as Leslie sees that picture. So, oh well!
Welcome to a special Super Tuesday edition of THE PEEVE! So, maybe it's not going to be exactly Super, but it IS Tuesday! Which means it isn't Monday, which means I'm late writing this again... it's just, when you can warp the space time continuum like I can, it's awfully hard to keep track of the days... but no matter. We have more important things to discuss. Very serious, important things, things that can suck every ounce of kindness and caring out of us, and destroy our very lives! VAMPIRES!! No, not really, all you need is a wooden stake and some garlic and you're pretty much done. Some awesome kung fu type skills will probably speed things up a bit. No, I'm talking about something much, much more horrible, and completely impervious to your pathetic garlic-wavings-about, I'm talking about POLITICS! And POLITICIANS! And the TWO PARTY POLITICAL SYSTEM!!!! [note: from here on out, the author has absolutely no idea what she is talking about, having barely scraped her way through high school Poli Sci, probably by cheating, and having received a LOOOOOW "D" in College Poli Sci, a worse grade than any other class except that Algebra class she stopped going to which forever damaged her GPA and haunts her to this very day. However, this is a perfectly acceptable angle from which to come at this topic, because politics is nothing but a lot of people w/REALLY strong opinions trying to pass them off as 100% truth-in-a-bucket. So, read on with confidence!!] I FIRMLY believe that there is NOTHING so divisive in American society as politics. Especially given the 2 party system w/parties @ both extremes. Now I sincerely hope that ALL Democrats don't sit around gathering welfare, smoking pot and giving each other "high fives" when they hear somebody got an abortion, and ALL Republicans don't sit around telling n___er jokes 'til it's time for their 2'o'clock "club a seal" break!!! But that's the kind of stuff one camp wants you to think about the other camp. It's just like a war, if you can depersonalize the other guy, call him a Jap or a Gook or a Yankee (OR a Vampire, think about it!) then you don't have to think of him as a person, but as an unthinking, unfeeling enemy that you MUST defeat or we'll all go to Hell in a handbasket. Of course there are always zealots in every cause, but I'm thinking most people are probably pretty moderate about everything. Then along come the candidates, generally THE most Conservative and Liberal schmucks they can find, and suddenly you have to find some doofus to get behind. Why can't we have better options than this, like, the "Middle of the Road" party?? (This is not a hypothetical question, I don't know. See note above.) So what if they split the vote 3 ways? Just figure out a way to pick a winner anyway. I'm tired of all this crap already, and we've still got almost a year to go. Yeeeeeesh. And who wants to vote for somebody who WANTS to be a politician, anyway? Wouldn't you have to be a little bit power hungry and a lot completely bonkers to WANT to be President??? It may therefore come to you as no surprise that my favourite Superbowl commercial--no, make that Superbowl moment, I mean, did you watch that pile o'poop?--was the bi-partisan Coke commercial EXACTLY BECAUSE they showed those 2 men of wildly different political leanings acting, not as politicians, but as MEN, drinking a Coke together. Not one of those Satanic dirty-poop-water PEPSI's, mind you, but a delicious, life affirming Coca-Cola. (Coke in '08!). Let us all say with these 2 brave men, "aaaaaaah!". (Yeah, the commercials all kinda sucked this year, didn't they?) So, let us learn a lesson here today. See beyond your neighbor's "Obama" sign into his heart, See beyond your sister's "Huckabee" bumper sticker into her soul, and see through Salma Hayek's clothing if there's any way you can possibly arrange it.
All right, All right, I know--my post this week should be people who SAY they're going to post on Monday but don't until Wednesday. But, I'm not going to write about that. I'm not even going to humor you by putting it in BIG LETTERS!!!
What I am going to write about is BAD PRODUCT PLACEMENT!!! Nadi and I are finally getting around to watching that "Comanche Moon" miniseries that we DVPVRWhatevered. Now, I have to admit that we DO skip through the commercials, but I noticed little glimpses of: Diaper Commercials! Slimfast commercials! LeanCuisine (or whatever) commercials! These are NOT my favourite commercials! I HATE these commercials! Now, I used to watch a few of those daytime home improvement shows aimed DIRECTLY at women, and yes, I had to suffer through these exact commercials and WORSE. And, if I remember correctly, they were not taped, so I actually had to WATCH them. I saw more than enough naked baby bottoms and tampons being dipped into blue liquid to last my lifetime, lemme tell ya.
...Chinos, Attractive But Not Sexy Campshirts, and MORE!...
The worst were the ones with perky housewives (who all shop at "Chinos, Attractive But Not Sexy Campshirts, and MORE!") wearing slightly disapproving but mostly amused expressions, while reaching for paper towels while their children, WHO ARE OLD ENOUGH TO CLEAN UP THEIR OWN GODDAM MESSES OR NOT MAKE THEM IN THE FIRST PLACE wear Huck Finn grins and run off to play. Man, it makes me want to beat my own children, and I don't even have any. It makes me want to beat my OVARIES!!! But, having said that, at least those are logical commercials for the given audience. Certainly overweight baby-wielding women are NOT the main audience for a Western?? You know, cut from a scalping to "shoes on sale now at PAYLESS!" Hmmmmm.......
However, this weirdness is still better than scenario 2. So, you're sitting there watching House MD, CSI, or I guess if you're a doofus, Grey's Anatomy, or something. Someone has just lifted up a giant mass of skin and internal organs, and said something like "this is what we found in his stomach!" or "this is all the killer left of him!" then WHAMMO they cut to a Domino's commercial with Xtra gratuitous slimy cheese being stretched all over blood red sauce and meaty chunks of, well, meat. Or "New at Ruby Tuesdays, gourmet Angus burgers, Xtra pink and juicy!" Yeah, no thanks, I've got my own regurgitated dinner over here to enjoy. Again. Doesn't anybody think about these things??? Aaah, I fear, only myself. Happy ta point that out for ya, there, for you to think about. I'm sure you're Sooooo Happy!
So, who says you can't learn nothin' on the internets. Not from me maybe, but there is, like, Wikipedia and stuff. So go there now! And stop watching TV! Because it's gross. Especially the diaper commercials.
Greetings, my undoubtedly attractive, well educated, and totally imaginary audience! Today's post is, for me, a bit of a letdown, I must confess. I had composed( in my head) a brilliant, moving post, grousinatin' about PEOPLE WHO "DIS" BRETT FAVRE! That was, however, before he threw that stupid interception and sent the (I can't stand them super icky) GIANTS to the Superbowl. I must admit that, even I, now, almost, almost want to "dis" him myself. Almost.
So instead, you will be treated to a topic that is an old standby for any Grumpy Old Man: TEENAGERS!!! Now, I'm not completely heartless, I well remember my own days as a teen, wondering if those hoop skirts made my butt look fat, silently avowing that the next time Bobby Joe McDanahan dipped my pigtails in the inkwell I would either kick his ass or marry him, Gol-durn it!!! Nonetheless, I know full out idiocy when I see it.
...looking around for a lizard man...
So the other day I was walking a dog in a lovely, scenic little park complete with a large pond/small lake, right across the street from the local high school. I noticed a group of six girls standing out in a circle on the ice, about ten feet from the edge of the pond. Now, I thought this was rather alarming, because here in Colorado, unlike some God-forsaken place like Green Bay, we actually get periods of warm weather interspersed with our cold, but not even THAT cold, weather. For 3 days before this, the weather had been over 40 degrees and sunny.
Therefore, I thought they were more than a little loony to not only be that far out on the ice, but that far out in a big group of six, at LEAST 600 lbs o'peoples!!!! But, they didn't seem to be crashing through the ice, so I just kept one hand on my cell phone Just In Case. So then, one of them went a little closer to the shore and picked up a really big rock, seriously, if it had been any larger and styro-foamy-er I would have started looking around for a lizard man, because THEN she lifted it up over her head and SMASHED it onto the ice RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER FEET!!! I couldn't believe it. Then she walked out about 5 more feet AND DID IT AGAIN!! AND AGAIN!! AND AGAIN!!! I was thinking "my God, this MORON is going to drop herself into the water and I'M going to have to heroically jump in and save her and freeze my ASS off!!! Then, she stopped. And I thought, I AM SAVED! But then, the other five girls wandered out to the middle of the lake/pond, which would be bad enough WITHOUT the fact that there was a FOUNTAIN going in the middle of the pond, with a 20 foot radius of completely unfrozen water around it!! And 2 of the girls went, I swear, to within ONE FOOT of the unfrozen part, and just stood there, looking down at the water and waiting to DIE!!!
At this point I just gave up on them entirely, thinkin' ol' Darwin must know what he's talkin' about, and took the dog home. On my way back, no-one was there. So, either they all went back to class never to know how close they came to KILLING ME, or, they all DIED!!!! We may never know. Or, want to know. Or care even if we did know. So there.
O.K. peoples, here's the deal. I have no shortage of peevitudes to grouse on about, I assure you. Why, there's THE COWBOYS for example, or TEA!!!, or LENNY KRAVITZ, or even THE IDIOT COWBOYS WHO CAN SOMEHOW, IN SOME YOGI-LIKE MANEUVER, SHOOT THEMSELVES IN THE HEAD AND THE FOOT AT THE SAME TIME, SIMULTANEOUSLY LAMING AND KILLING THEMSELVES!!!. However, none of these topics seem as relevant to me, today, as THAT THING PAINTED ON THE PATRIOTS FIELD!!! Or, to be more accurate, THOSE THINGS, since they DO mock me in stereo. For those of you who don't follow football (fools), these things look, and I can describe them EXACTLY, they look like giant futuristic pipe wrenches with yellow markings coming out of the "business end" of the wrench, which I take to be symbolic of some sort of magnetic field. I can also describe exactly what they do NOT look like, which is: a musket, one of those tri-fold hats that oh, I dunno, PATRIOTS like to wear, even a super old fashioned pipe wrench from back in the glorious days of Patrick Henry (maybe?) and oh, whoever else. I also happen to know that the Pats have NOT changed their mascot to some sort of space age plumber, as just THIS weekend I saw their weird-ass giant-headed patriot type guy frolicking around with his tri-fold hat on. (There's GOT to be a name for those...). So I'm left with the question, "what the Hell ARE those damn things!!!!!!!". It's gotten so bad that I can't even concentrate on plays that take place in the middle of the field, I simply stare at those things, waiting for the magical moment when they reveal themselves to me, like the "young woman" or "old crone" in that old eye-teaser thingy. So, to summarize, these things are super annoying and MUST BE STOPPED!!! Now, Nadi (who, as you in the posse (or those of you who simply keep up w/the latest celeb gossip) know, is my husband), thinks that I shouldn't be annoyed by, or gripe about, these things until I know what they are. What!?!? WHAT!?!? THAT'S THE POINT!!! It should be OBVIOUS what they are!!! Like the big old star in the middle of the Cowboy's field. Nice. SIMPLE. Therefore, I leave it up to you, the merciful reader, to end my sorrows and just tell me what they are. So, PLEASE, ANSWER THIS POST and let me know "oh, it's so totally a bayonet if you look at it from the side" or "if you squint just a little it's a depiction of the Boston tea party! DUH!!!". And always remember, "A frown is just a smile taking a nice relaxing nap that it REALLY doesn't want to get up from. ( Aaaahhh.)".
Welcome back to the zone of all things annoying, teeth-grinding, and horrific. So, my post this week WAS going to be, as I previously hinted, Winter related. To be specific, it was PEOPLE WHO DRIVE 20MPH ON LONG, TWISTY ROADS I CAN'T POSSIBLY PASS THEM ON, IN 45 THOUSAND DOLLAR LEXUS 4-WHEEL DRIVE SUVS, WHILE I AM STUCK HELPLESSLY BEHIND THEM IN MY $13,OOO, 9 YEAR OLD SUZUKI, FLAILING MY (MITTENED) HANDS AROUND AND SCREAMING " I'M FROM TEXAS AND I DRIVE FASTER THAN YOU MORONS!!!". But that title seems pretty self explantatory, doesn't it? Therefore, I have decided to write about something just as annoying, and more recently on my mind, which is PEOPLE WHO GO TO SPORTS BARS FOR THE EXPRESS PURPOSE OF NOT WATCHING SPORTS!!!
Last weekend we went to the local sports joint to watch the (obnoxious, crappy-assed) Seahawks play the (too lame to win) Redskins. About halfway into the 2nd quarter, three women came in and commandeered a gi-normous table, two sitting on one side and the other all by herself at the other. They then proceeded to discuss the super-happy fact that the one sitting by herself was pregnant, and that they had pumped unbelievable amounts of breast milk when THEY were preggo. Then a few husbands, another wife, and a kid showed up, and I got to listen to the pregnant one talk to the kid in an extra loud, helium-sucking inspired voice, saying things like "did you get a soda? Do you like your soda?" The kid, who was like, 6 or something, NOT 0.4, wisely ignored her (which I thought was pretty funny!).
So then MORE hubbys showed up, and they hit on such scintillating topics as how much beer they didn't drink while their wives were pregnant, the fact that they were thinking about buying a Lexus (this IS Boulder) and the fact that they had seen the Transformer movie. Not the movie itself, mind you, the plot, the special effects, but the fact that the movie existed, and they had seen it. I don't know HOW they did this, AMAZINGLY I can't remember every riveting word of that conversation, but I swear on a 3 foot high stack of Anthropologie catalogues that it lasted for TEN MINUTES!!! But, and here's the most important part, the WHOLE time we were there, and I KNOW this because I had to look over their heads to see the T.V., ONE guy GLANCED at the screen THREE TIMES!!!
It's kinda like when you go to a concert, and the people in front of you talk through the whole thing. Just stay home, put your Rush CD on as loud as it'll go, smoke enough pot to make the air all hazy, and save yourself 80 bucks!!! Man, I remember when we went to the Paul Simon/Bob Dylan concert, THE WHOLE TIME there was this GRATING voice going ON and ON about every God-Damn thing you could imagine...oh wait! That WAS Bob Dylan! AHHAHAHAHAHAA!
So, just remember, "Anyone (who has recently had a lobotomy) can love Elmo, but it takes someone REALLY special to love Oscar".
Welcome to my shiny new post, which Spencer has foolishly allowed on his blog! This is my chance to rant and rave about all the things I usually do verbally, now in print! I'll be posting every Monday, because Mondays suck in and of themselves, and some EXTRA suck, like, let's say you were playing for the championship in your fantasy football league, and you were behind, but you had L.T. left! but the Chargers were playing the Broncos, who were so horrifically bad that there was no reason for the coach NOT to pull L.T., so you end up in second place by LESS THAN TWO POINTS! My God, what a chilling scenario!!
O.K., so the PeeveO'theWeek is..... WINTER! I know, you're thinking I'm never going to make it through 52 weeks of this if I cover such broad topics, but, don't worry, I have Sub-Topics!
...the problem was that we BOTH had mittens on...
So, last week we had a big snow, about 8 inches, and the next day the roads were super-icy and dangerous and everybody was driving 20 mph (which was VERY annoying and just HAPPENS to be the subject of my next post) when suddenly some idiot dude turned RIGHT OUT IN FRONT OF ME!!! I couldn't slam on the brakes because I would have skidded all over the place, so I did the next logical thing which was to slam on the horn and flip him off. Then he had the audacity to flip ME off!! So I flipped him off with BOTH HANDS!!! The problem was that we BOTH had mittens on, so we just looked like we were flailing about nonsensically, and it was highly unsatisfying, I must say. Even gloves, for God's sake... but it was too cold for gloves!! You HAD to have mittens. So, there you go, discuss. Y'all down in Texas may have to use your imagination.
So, until next week, just remember-- "You don't have to be old, or a man, to be a grumpy old man. But it helps a bunch to be grumpy."
