Angry Once Again
My computer is in the coldest room of my apartment, so I haven't been spending much time in here lately. This will be longer than normal, as I don't know when I'll be posting again. I could write of a million things that piss me off on a daily basis, like the fact that my new office mate apparently waits until she comes in in the morning to take her first stinking dump of the day rather than simply doing it before she leaves the house, and then sprays a disgusting cinnamon-smelling air freshener to cover it up which only succeeds in making my entire office smell like shit and cinnamon, and then proceeds to do it at least twice more during the course of the day. I could bitch about that, but for now these will have to do.
First off: what's with this latest trend of chicks going out in public in their pajamas? Every time I go to the grocery store there's at least a dozen women of all ages parading around in their pajama pants. I've seen them at the bank, at the mall, pretty much anywhere. Is it that much of a fucking chore to get your ass dressed in the morning? Or in the afternoon? Or whenever you roll your ass out of bed and go out to a public place? If I walked around in public in what I normally slept in, I'd be walking around in boxer shorts, which, while I've no doubt it would drive the women insane with lust, would just look damn trashy. Put some goddamn pants on, for Christ's sake.
As I write this, it is currently snowing outside. Actually, I should say it's white-out conditions beyond my window. I wouldn't be surprised if it's all gone by tomorrow, but for now it looks like Antarctica out there. It's a heavy, wet snow that was a driving hail a few hours ago, and last night it was a powdery yet steady shower. In other words, it's not the best driving conditions outside. Glad I'm home.
Not because of the snow, mind you. I usually have no problem driving in the snow. I drive a standard transmission, which, as anyone who drives one knows, is exponentially better than driving an automatic in the snow. No, I don't fear the weather at all.
Instead, I fear the fucking idiots who suffer from what I like to call "SUV syndrome". Picture it: you can barely see out your windshield. The middle lane is the only lane on the highway that is not covered with snow. Traffic is slowed to a crawl. These are the fucking dickheads who, while you're trying very hard to simply follow the tail lights of the car in front of you, screw past you in the high speed lane doing ninety. They splatter your windshield with the crap from their lane, and usually have their high-beams on, reducing your visibility further. Most of them are soccer moms yapping on their cell phones drunk on the power of their new Hummer (they just HAVE to call someone and tell them how bad the driving is- WHILE THEY'RE DRIVING) or Bubbas in pickups with stickers that say witty things like "I still miss my ex-wife, but my aim is improving" or "Good girls get fat, bad girls get eaten" or "Bush/Cheney '04".
One of these shitheads caused a 15 car accident the other day. I woke up early to set up at a comic show in Providence, RI. It was snowing, but nowhere near as badly as it is now. On my way to the show, I passed 15 cars- including two Mass. State Police cars- in various stages of destruction on the same highway. I don't drive a SUV. Anyone out there who does can perhaps answer this question for me: when you buy one, do you suddenly become a complete moron and forget that snow and ice are slippery? Do you, be you male or female, suddenly grow enormous, elephantine testicles proportionate to the size of your ride? Do you become firmly convinced that the laws of physics (i.e.friction) do not apply to your vehicle? Get a fucking clue, shithead, before you kill someone other than yourself.
And speaking of cell phones: I fucking hate cell phones. I hate them with the white-hot intensity of 1000 suns. I hate them like Ahab hates the white whale. Like Gollum hates the Baggins. Like slugs hate salt. Like I hate humanity in general. I fucking despise cell phones. However, before I go any further, I feel I should own up to the fact that I, the Angry Piper, hater extraordinaire of cell phones and people who use them, do, in fact, own a cell phone myself. After much deliberation, I got one two years ago because I got a job that requires me to be on the road much of the time, travelling far away from my home. I didn't want to break down in Boston traffic in weather like what's currently raging outside and not have any way to call for assistance. So I bought one. 98% of all my cell phone calls (with a 2% margin of error) are work-related. Aside from my co-workers, there are only a handful of people ( I can think of 5) who have my cell phone number, and most of them (3) have the same last name as me. They all have instructions not to call me on it unless SOMEONE IS DEAD. One person who feels he is an exception to this, of course, is the Angry Veteran, who I once gave my cell number to. I forget why, but there was a definite purpose, like he was coming to town and I was going to be out or something. Rest assured he got the same instructions as everyone else, i.e. aside from that one time, he was only to call me on my cell phone in time of direst emergency. Despite this, he and my brother continue to call me on my cell phone when they can't get in touch with me normally, which annoys me. A lot. So fucking stop it.
People who use cell phones in public places are generally rude and ignorant. A while back, my West Coast chum Tel did a blogpost all her own about some asshole using a cell phone in a movie theater, to which I responded with typical Angry Piper sympathy (i.e. anger). Nothing pisses me off more than browsing in a bookstore and hearing some assclown's cell phone an aisle over ringing with some personalized Nelly ringtone and then having to listen to some vapid ditz chat about her day while she searches frantically for the latest Oprah book club selection. Or getting into an elevator and riding 15 floors with a guy who acts like he's psychotic because he's having a conversation with HIMSELF, until I notice the headset he's chatting away on wrapped around his jaws like a pair of ants' mandibles. Or being behind someone who's driving like they just quaffed an entire box o'wine and washed it down with a few shots of Dewar's, cautiously passing them in hopes of getting out of their crazed, maniacally swerving path, only to look over and see the reason they can't drive is because they're blabbing away, holding a cell phone in one hand and clutching a fucking MAPQUEST in the other.
Once upon a time, not so long ago (thanks JBJ), I was eating dinner in a crowded restaurant. At the next table was an older couple. No sooner had they ordered their meal then the woman takes out her cell phone and calls, of all people, her mother. How do I know it was her mother? Because apparently, the reception inside the restaurant where dozens of people(including myself) were eating their dinner was not the best. So I got to hear the entire one-sided conversation, which, I shit you not, went like this:
Old Lady: Hi Mom. I said HI MOM. Yeah. We're at the HILLTOP. YEAH. THE HILLTOP. WE'RE HAVING DINNAH. WALTAH ORDERED THE PORTAH-HOUSE. YEAH. I'M HAVING THE STEAK TIPS. WITH MASHED POTADAHS. YEAH. HE'S HAVING THE SALAD. THE DOCTAH SAID HE SHOULD WATCH HIS CHOLESTEROL, SO HE'S NOT GONNA EAT THE POTADAHS. WHY? CUZ THEY HAVE A LOT OF BUTTAH...
I'm sure you get the point. This went on for about five minutes, during which time Walter expressionlessly ate the dinner rolls like he was chewing ashes. Walter was a broken, beaten and hollow man. It seemed as though he was resigned to the shrill voice of this cackling harpy he called a wife. He said nothing during her phone call and I'm pretty sure he said nothing for the rest of his meal. At least I didn't see them talk to each other at all. I'm pretty sure that had the lady choked to death in mid-phone call, Walter would have had no reaction but for a small, slow smile spreading across his face as she hacked out her last feeble, wheezing breath. I am certain that would have been my reaction, had I been Walter.
Was this phone call really necessary? Fuck no. Couldn't this hag with the fingernails-on-the-chalkboard-of-my-soul voice have waited until she was in the fucking car with a belly full o'beef to call Mom? Fuck yes. Does her mother need to know what she eats every night? Sweet merciful crap, lady...have some fucking consideration for people around you, who maybe want to eat a quiet meal and enjoy the company of the person they're with without having to hear about your husband's cholesterol level and your choice of entrees!
Here's a newsflash to all the people reading this who may find in themselves a bit of the folks described above: You are not that fucking important. Get off your goddamn phone. Turn it off in stores, restaurants, churches and movie theaters. (As I told Tel, I firmly believe anyone who uses a cell phone in a theater should be caned to within an inch of their life. I'm not kidding.) If you feel you are Mr. Important and can't be out of touch with anyone for the time it takes to drive somewhere, see a movie or go into a retail store, then take a cab, wait for the fucking rental and shop online. Don't be a fucking ignorant asshole.
Speaking of assholes, I was listening to NPR today and I heard one of these Evangelical Christians talking about the latest stupid fucking debate in our country, the "Hijacking of Christmas." For those who don't know, the ECs are particularly distressed by the fact that retail stores like Target (among others), refer to their sales as "Holiday sales" and not "Christmas sales." According to them, this, and saying "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas" is an attempt to deliberately exclude their beliefs from the season.
Sigh. Where do I begin?
Saying "Happy Holidays" to someone is inclusive. See, my Jewish friends (one of whom needs to post to this blog more often and submit some poetry to Hill-TV-you know who you are) celebrate Hannukah. My Muslim friends (if I had any) celebrate Ramadan. My Buddhist friends...well, they don't celebrate anything this time of year that I know of. My athiest friend, Dr. Mantodea, celebrates Christmas not out of any religious observation, but because he enjoys gift-giving and receiving and is just brimming with goodwill for his fellow man. I assume Just Me celebrates Yule, but I don't know her personally and I could be wrong. I don't know anyone who celebrates Kwanzaa, but I hear some people do. Jehovah's Witnesses don't celebrate anything, so if you know one don't offer holiday salutations, although I'm fairly certain they've come to terms with the fact that other folks celebrate stuff and wouldn't be too shocked to see a "holiday sale" this time of year. Also, a week after Christmas, there's a holiday you may have heard of called New Year's Day.
So you see, saying "Happy Holidays" means different things to different people. It's an attempt to be inclusive, not divisive-kind of like how Barnes & Noble plays Jewish music like the Hannukah song (not the Adam Sandler version-the actual light the menorah-dance around the Torah-explanation of the holiday song) in addition to incessant Christmas music. I'm willing to bet that since Hannukah also falls on the 25th this year, some Jewish folks may do some gift shopping at Target. So that company's "Holiday Sale" could be an attempt to appeal to people who observe this holiday as well. Just a guess.
Of course, there is a limit to this kind of political correctness. Calling a big fir tree with lights, garland and ornaments on it a "Holiday Tree" is fucking stupid, because as any kindergartener knows, it's obviously a Christmas tree. In other words, if you don't celebrate Christmas, you likely won't have a big decorated tree in your living room. You wouldn't call a menorah a "holiday candelabra" unless you had the intelligence of a corn-fed mule. It's obviously an object associated with Jewish tradition, and someone who isn't Jewish (like me) wouldn't have one in their home, so just call it what it is. There's a point of political correctness that's just ridiculous and it's a point people don't need to go beyond, but it seems we as a society go beyond it all the time.
The EC's (at least the one I heard today, a Mr. Robert Schenk (sp?) believe that by not specifically naming Christmas as the reason for the season, we are somehow belittling their beliefs. While I agree with him (holy shit-I never thought I'd say that) about the fact that Christmas trees should be called what they are, I don't agree with him that Holiday sales should be called "Christmas sales", because that excludes everyone else.
Mr. Schenk expressed irritation that being labeled as an "Evangelical Christian" often carries with it a kind of perjorative connotation, unless the people doing the labelling happen to be EC's themselves. Again, I agree (holy crap on toast-twice in one day!) Know why?
Because arguments like this are stupid, and I REALLY DON'T FUCKING CARE ABOUT THIS SHIT AT ALL. Nor should you. Hey Mr. Schenk...how about devoting your Christian concern (and money) to things that fucking MATTER, like Hurricane relief and combating poverty, instead of wasting everyone's time with bullshit like this that should be common sense to anyone with half a fucking brain? And if the EC's didn't constantly try to make their religious beliefs NATIONAL POLICY, maybe the rest of us who don't happen to share them wouldn't think that in general, EC's are narrow-minded, exclusive, gay-hating, bible-thumping, science-restricting, morality-touting, political power-hungry holier-than-thou assholes.
Just a thought.
First off: what's with this latest trend of chicks going out in public in their pajamas? Every time I go to the grocery store there's at least a dozen women of all ages parading around in their pajama pants. I've seen them at the bank, at the mall, pretty much anywhere. Is it that much of a fucking chore to get your ass dressed in the morning? Or in the afternoon? Or whenever you roll your ass out of bed and go out to a public place? If I walked around in public in what I normally slept in, I'd be walking around in boxer shorts, which, while I've no doubt it would drive the women insane with lust, would just look damn trashy. Put some goddamn pants on, for Christ's sake.
As I write this, it is currently snowing outside. Actually, I should say it's white-out conditions beyond my window. I wouldn't be surprised if it's all gone by tomorrow, but for now it looks like Antarctica out there. It's a heavy, wet snow that was a driving hail a few hours ago, and last night it was a powdery yet steady shower. In other words, it's not the best driving conditions outside. Glad I'm home.
Not because of the snow, mind you. I usually have no problem driving in the snow. I drive a standard transmission, which, as anyone who drives one knows, is exponentially better than driving an automatic in the snow. No, I don't fear the weather at all.
Instead, I fear the fucking idiots who suffer from what I like to call "SUV syndrome". Picture it: you can barely see out your windshield. The middle lane is the only lane on the highway that is not covered with snow. Traffic is slowed to a crawl. These are the fucking dickheads who, while you're trying very hard to simply follow the tail lights of the car in front of you, screw past you in the high speed lane doing ninety. They splatter your windshield with the crap from their lane, and usually have their high-beams on, reducing your visibility further. Most of them are soccer moms yapping on their cell phones drunk on the power of their new Hummer (they just HAVE to call someone and tell them how bad the driving is- WHILE THEY'RE DRIVING) or Bubbas in pickups with stickers that say witty things like "I still miss my ex-wife, but my aim is improving" or "Good girls get fat, bad girls get eaten" or "Bush/Cheney '04".
One of these shitheads caused a 15 car accident the other day. I woke up early to set up at a comic show in Providence, RI. It was snowing, but nowhere near as badly as it is now. On my way to the show, I passed 15 cars- including two Mass. State Police cars- in various stages of destruction on the same highway. I don't drive a SUV. Anyone out there who does can perhaps answer this question for me: when you buy one, do you suddenly become a complete moron and forget that snow and ice are slippery? Do you, be you male or female, suddenly grow enormous, elephantine testicles proportionate to the size of your ride? Do you become firmly convinced that the laws of physics (i.e.friction) do not apply to your vehicle? Get a fucking clue, shithead, before you kill someone other than yourself.
And speaking of cell phones: I fucking hate cell phones. I hate them with the white-hot intensity of 1000 suns. I hate them like Ahab hates the white whale. Like Gollum hates the Baggins. Like slugs hate salt. Like I hate humanity in general. I fucking despise cell phones. However, before I go any further, I feel I should own up to the fact that I, the Angry Piper, hater extraordinaire of cell phones and people who use them, do, in fact, own a cell phone myself. After much deliberation, I got one two years ago because I got a job that requires me to be on the road much of the time, travelling far away from my home. I didn't want to break down in Boston traffic in weather like what's currently raging outside and not have any way to call for assistance. So I bought one. 98% of all my cell phone calls (with a 2% margin of error) are work-related. Aside from my co-workers, there are only a handful of people ( I can think of 5) who have my cell phone number, and most of them (3) have the same last name as me. They all have instructions not to call me on it unless SOMEONE IS DEAD. One person who feels he is an exception to this, of course, is the Angry Veteran, who I once gave my cell number to. I forget why, but there was a definite purpose, like he was coming to town and I was going to be out or something. Rest assured he got the same instructions as everyone else, i.e. aside from that one time, he was only to call me on my cell phone in time of direst emergency. Despite this, he and my brother continue to call me on my cell phone when they can't get in touch with me normally, which annoys me. A lot. So fucking stop it.
People who use cell phones in public places are generally rude and ignorant. A while back, my West Coast chum Tel did a blogpost all her own about some asshole using a cell phone in a movie theater, to which I responded with typical Angry Piper sympathy (i.e. anger). Nothing pisses me off more than browsing in a bookstore and hearing some assclown's cell phone an aisle over ringing with some personalized Nelly ringtone and then having to listen to some vapid ditz chat about her day while she searches frantically for the latest Oprah book club selection. Or getting into an elevator and riding 15 floors with a guy who acts like he's psychotic because he's having a conversation with HIMSELF, until I notice the headset he's chatting away on wrapped around his jaws like a pair of ants' mandibles. Or being behind someone who's driving like they just quaffed an entire box o'wine and washed it down with a few shots of Dewar's, cautiously passing them in hopes of getting out of their crazed, maniacally swerving path, only to look over and see the reason they can't drive is because they're blabbing away, holding a cell phone in one hand and clutching a fucking MAPQUEST in the other.
Once upon a time, not so long ago (thanks JBJ), I was eating dinner in a crowded restaurant. At the next table was an older couple. No sooner had they ordered their meal then the woman takes out her cell phone and calls, of all people, her mother. How do I know it was her mother? Because apparently, the reception inside the restaurant where dozens of people(including myself) were eating their dinner was not the best. So I got to hear the entire one-sided conversation, which, I shit you not, went like this:
Old Lady: Hi Mom. I said HI MOM. Yeah. We're at the HILLTOP. YEAH. THE HILLTOP. WE'RE HAVING DINNAH. WALTAH ORDERED THE PORTAH-HOUSE. YEAH. I'M HAVING THE STEAK TIPS. WITH MASHED POTADAHS. YEAH. HE'S HAVING THE SALAD. THE DOCTAH SAID HE SHOULD WATCH HIS CHOLESTEROL, SO HE'S NOT GONNA EAT THE POTADAHS. WHY? CUZ THEY HAVE A LOT OF BUTTAH...
I'm sure you get the point. This went on for about five minutes, during which time Walter expressionlessly ate the dinner rolls like he was chewing ashes. Walter was a broken, beaten and hollow man. It seemed as though he was resigned to the shrill voice of this cackling harpy he called a wife. He said nothing during her phone call and I'm pretty sure he said nothing for the rest of his meal. At least I didn't see them talk to each other at all. I'm pretty sure that had the lady choked to death in mid-phone call, Walter would have had no reaction but for a small, slow smile spreading across his face as she hacked out her last feeble, wheezing breath. I am certain that would have been my reaction, had I been Walter.
Was this phone call really necessary? Fuck no. Couldn't this hag with the fingernails-on-the-chalkboard-of-my-soul voice have waited until she was in the fucking car with a belly full o'beef to call Mom? Fuck yes. Does her mother need to know what she eats every night? Sweet merciful crap, lady...have some fucking consideration for people around you, who maybe want to eat a quiet meal and enjoy the company of the person they're with without having to hear about your husband's cholesterol level and your choice of entrees!
Here's a newsflash to all the people reading this who may find in themselves a bit of the folks described above: You are not that fucking important. Get off your goddamn phone. Turn it off in stores, restaurants, churches and movie theaters. (As I told Tel, I firmly believe anyone who uses a cell phone in a theater should be caned to within an inch of their life. I'm not kidding.) If you feel you are Mr. Important and can't be out of touch with anyone for the time it takes to drive somewhere, see a movie or go into a retail store, then take a cab, wait for the fucking rental and shop online. Don't be a fucking ignorant asshole.
Speaking of assholes, I was listening to NPR today and I heard one of these Evangelical Christians talking about the latest stupid fucking debate in our country, the "Hijacking of Christmas." For those who don't know, the ECs are particularly distressed by the fact that retail stores like Target (among others), refer to their sales as "Holiday sales" and not "Christmas sales." According to them, this, and saying "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas" is an attempt to deliberately exclude their beliefs from the season.
Sigh. Where do I begin?
Saying "Happy Holidays" to someone is inclusive. See, my Jewish friends (one of whom needs to post to this blog more often and submit some poetry to Hill-TV-you know who you are) celebrate Hannukah. My Muslim friends (if I had any) celebrate Ramadan. My Buddhist friends...well, they don't celebrate anything this time of year that I know of. My athiest friend, Dr. Mantodea, celebrates Christmas not out of any religious observation, but because he enjoys gift-giving and receiving and is just brimming with goodwill for his fellow man. I assume Just Me celebrates Yule, but I don't know her personally and I could be wrong. I don't know anyone who celebrates Kwanzaa, but I hear some people do. Jehovah's Witnesses don't celebrate anything, so if you know one don't offer holiday salutations, although I'm fairly certain they've come to terms with the fact that other folks celebrate stuff and wouldn't be too shocked to see a "holiday sale" this time of year. Also, a week after Christmas, there's a holiday you may have heard of called New Year's Day.
So you see, saying "Happy Holidays" means different things to different people. It's an attempt to be inclusive, not divisive-kind of like how Barnes & Noble plays Jewish music like the Hannukah song (not the Adam Sandler version-the actual light the menorah-dance around the Torah-explanation of the holiday song) in addition to incessant Christmas music. I'm willing to bet that since Hannukah also falls on the 25th this year, some Jewish folks may do some gift shopping at Target. So that company's "Holiday Sale" could be an attempt to appeal to people who observe this holiday as well. Just a guess.
Of course, there is a limit to this kind of political correctness. Calling a big fir tree with lights, garland and ornaments on it a "Holiday Tree" is fucking stupid, because as any kindergartener knows, it's obviously a Christmas tree. In other words, if you don't celebrate Christmas, you likely won't have a big decorated tree in your living room. You wouldn't call a menorah a "holiday candelabra" unless you had the intelligence of a corn-fed mule. It's obviously an object associated with Jewish tradition, and someone who isn't Jewish (like me) wouldn't have one in their home, so just call it what it is. There's a point of political correctness that's just ridiculous and it's a point people don't need to go beyond, but it seems we as a society go beyond it all the time.
The EC's (at least the one I heard today, a Mr. Robert Schenk (sp?) believe that by not specifically naming Christmas as the reason for the season, we are somehow belittling their beliefs. While I agree with him (holy shit-I never thought I'd say that) about the fact that Christmas trees should be called what they are, I don't agree with him that Holiday sales should be called "Christmas sales", because that excludes everyone else.
Mr. Schenk expressed irritation that being labeled as an "Evangelical Christian" often carries with it a kind of perjorative connotation, unless the people doing the labelling happen to be EC's themselves. Again, I agree (holy crap on toast-twice in one day!) Know why?
Because arguments like this are stupid, and I REALLY DON'T FUCKING CARE ABOUT THIS SHIT AT ALL. Nor should you. Hey Mr. Schenk...how about devoting your Christian concern (and money) to things that fucking MATTER, like Hurricane relief and combating poverty, instead of wasting everyone's time with bullshit like this that should be common sense to anyone with half a fucking brain? And if the EC's didn't constantly try to make their religious beliefs NATIONAL POLICY, maybe the rest of us who don't happen to share them wouldn't think that in general, EC's are narrow-minded, exclusive, gay-hating, bible-thumping, science-restricting, morality-touting, political power-hungry holier-than-thou assholes.
Just a thought.
posted by The Angry Piper at 3:22 PM
13 Comments:
1. I am a SUV owner, and in complete agreement with you. You see people with 4WD will notice how well that vehicle performs straightline in inclement weather. Now, do you 90, try to turn to stop quickly. Dickhead in the SUV, meet Mr. Gaurdrail
2. Cell Phones, hate em too. I have one I use for my business and emergencies. I use it on occasion (of course as I write this it is ringing). I rarely answer it when driving, and never really use it after 4PM. Wife and I went to McD's several months ago and this 15 year old homey gets on here break, immediately get on her cell, and loudly talks to a homegirl dropping F Bombs the entire time. Needless to say that emptied the resturant, and guess what the Manager did nothing.
3. EC's I am currently debating some EC's at Minimum Security about the Bible. It is Funny that EC's rail against Catholicism, yet Catholicism is the thing that gave them their Jesus Canon. It is also interesing to consider that Jesus was a political agitator, claimant to the Hebrew throne, and killed as such.
Do what I do. When somebody uses a cell phone inappropriately, take yours out and say:
HELLO? YES I'M VERY IMPORTANT. I HAVE A CELL PHONE. I'M A VERY BIG DEAL. I SAID FIVE MILLION! THAT'S HOW I ROLL! I have to go now. Some guy with a really crappy cheap phone is giving me the jealous look. Plus I have another call on MY CELL PHONE! I'M RICH! ONLY RICH PEOPLE HAVE CELL PHONES!
*I hate cell phones in movie theaters because it is costing me close to $30.00 to attend and I would actually like to hear the fucking movie.
*A close second to that is the woman who sat besides me who brought her 18 month old to go see Harry Potter. She sat there the whole time her child screamed and tried to act like the child was invisible.
*The ignorant redneck woman in front of me at my oldest daughter choir concert also pissed me off. The choir teacher asked everyone to turn off their phones for the sake of the kids who have worked hard. The woman in front of me must have had too much meat in her ears because she did not listen and in the middle of a beautiful song had to rush to find her ringing fucking phone.
You see ignorance abounds. Do what I do and when you spot it say it out loud, Like "wow you listen well, I could have sworn we were asked to turn our phones off earlier." It makes you feel so good.
My goodness. Where to begin?
My first major driving experience that involved snow required me to drive my Honda Civic from Boston to Amherst in a blizzard. I'm sure I drove too slowly, but at least I lived to tell the tale. It would never occur to me to drive fast in that kind of weather, just like it would never occur to me to buy an SUV.
Lately, much of my cell phone usage has revolved around telling the husband what to fetch from the supermarket or telling him how a job interview went. I won't lie and say I don't use it socially, but I generally leave it in the car when I am out in the world. My big peeve is the people who insist on calling that number when they know it's rarely actually turned on.
I read about the proposed Target boycott too. I guess playing insipid Christmas music and selling the Christmas-themed goodies isn't good enough for the ECs if they don't have a giant sign wishing people a Merry Christmas. Whatever. My stepdaughter goes to an EC elementary school (her mother's choice). Can I tell you much I am not looking forward to Tuesday's winter concert and the regularly-scheduled sermon from the school director? My guess is that I will have more to say about that on Wednesday.
Oh by the way, I love Statler and Waldorf and I have a soft spot in my heart for Rolf the Dog.
P.S. I didn't necessarily mean to imply that all Christmas music is insipid. But I do have a limit on how much I can stand. And if they play Celine Dion or Michael Bolton, then all bets are off.
Malach: I did not know you owned a hated SUV. I do know how you drive, however, and you have a pretty safe record (aside from that time you plowed into that house and wandered away with a gushing head wound).
Murk: I may just take your advice once again. You should open a practice.
Eve: I agree with everything you say and I'm pretty much only replying to your comment because you complain I never do. So here you go. (I'd still take a bullet for you. After this comment I'll expect one FROM you.)
JenL: Most Christmas music is pretty insipid. My favorite, though, is the Peanuts Christmas album by the Vince Guaraldi Trio (except for that godawful Hark! The Herald Angels Sing done by the choir of kids. Ugh.) Harry Connick, Jr. does some cool Christmas tunes too.
Tel: Awww, thanks. "Who could ever love a beast?" Apparently you.
OK, so now I firmly believe in jinxing myself. Why?
I went to see Narnia on Saturday. At the most dramatic moment of the film, guess what happened?
A cellphone rang. The woman directly in front of me. AND SHE ANSWERED IT.
As I contemplated the odds of escaping arrest should I go through with my immediate instinctive response (i.e. dropping an axe kick on her head and yelling "WRONG NUMBER, ASSHOLE!") I realized another reason why I believe people who use cell phone in movie theatres should be beaten to death. It's not even the fact that this shithead, just like the rest of us, received FOUR on-screen reminders to silence cell phones before the show. It's that her cell phone completely ripped me out of the story.
I'm not kidding when I say it happened at the most dramatic moment of the film. Anyone who has read the book (including Dr. Mack'n, should she read this blog) will immediately know what event I'm talking about. I was immersed in the story and that cell phone ring unceremoniously yanked me out of it. I was so pissed off and enraged that I couldn't even concentrate on the film for the next three minutes or so, and all the cool scenes I saw didn't really register.
Anyway, for what it's worth, go see Narnia. It was great.
See, it’s a funny thing. I have seen many movies at local theaters since moving up to Boston. And I have yet to encounter these cell phone microcephalons. Now, it is possible that people in the greater Boston area are more polite than other regions… I’ll wait for you to stop laughing…. done?
Good.
But, no. Rather, I think it is for the very opposite reason. If you were in the Lowes theater in Boston common, whilst watching, let’s say Return of the King, and your phone rang and you answered and proceeded to chat obnoxiously during the battle for Minas Tirith, I am sure that all those surrounding your rude ass would pounce like those zombies did on that really annoying guy in Shawn of the Dead. Tearing your viscera from your abdominal cavity and your limbs from their sockets.
Because you see, in Boston, being rude is an arms race, and you had best not be outnumbered when you start it.
I think we can all learn a lesson here. When someone is rude, cut to the chase and eat their liver. Much Like Hannibal Lector.
You know, since your "accident", you've been much more bloodthirsty.
How did you know I spilled coffee myself earlier? Oh… THAT accident… I don’t thirst for blood, I don’t even care that much for the taste of it. That is why I always drain the corpses before eating them.
At least I am open about my predispositions, or should we take a look inside the trunk of your car, Mr. Those-are-just-my-bagpipes-in-there-Officer
Damn...I was plugged. Wait....uhhh.....moving a long.
Yes I celebrate the "holidays". *snicker* I'm all about the Winter Equinox, Christmas, Santa, Jezus Man and The Whole Nine Yards.
Thanks for the props you angry booger. *Holiday Cheer Hugs*
I will call you on that cell phone whenever I damn well please! Just to see how your day is going! Just to tell you what I'm eating for dinner! Mu ha ha ha ha ha!!!
This is not angry, it is more whiny.
Post a Comment
<< Home