Ash Wednesday Conundrum

I'm a religious person. I'm just not a religious person in the sense that other "faithers" are.

For instance, at 12PM today I decided that it was lunch time. I had two pieces of pizza. My initial thought was one of, "I'm going to destroy this first piece without any sacrilegious feelings." 

The next piece made me pause and ruminate over whether I can convince the heavens that pepperoni isn't really a meat. I've had success in the past with bologna, hot dogs, and almost made a convincing argument for a surf n turf meal a few years ago. That one didn't end well as my penance was an upset stomach (code for the shits).

Then again, I also think that God & Lucifer are both looking upon me with their beady omnipotent eyes and simultaneously thinking, "He can have him." 

I firmly believe this is why I'm still alive right now. I annoy both worlds so much that they aren't ready for me yet.

I've drawn another of my masterpieces illustrating this:

Another Oldie

There was a conspiracy against me formulated by my friend Jesse several years ago. We were still at the age where visiting your alma mater was OK and we weren't considered has beens yet. We still had some friends that attended the school as well. Apparently I woke up in the same bed as Jesse while we were visiting. Not a big deal really, its not like he woke up saying "THOSE AREN'T PILLOWS!" Jesse spun it so I once again looked like a fool though. I felt enough was enough.  I wasn't even there to defend and explain my side of that story. Well, since Jesse tarnished my sparkling image by spreading lies about my exploits to his whole family (which is weird in itself) I felt it was my duty...NO...my obligation as a citizen to spread propaganda of the same effect about his meanderings. 

So without further ado here is my story of Jesse's plight with Psycho Sue.  It is entitled:

"A Coward's Escape"

Our story begins several years ago in our characters' sophomore year at the college formerly known as Bryant.  It is spring time, a time where everyone is thawing out like their environmental surroundings. Young coeds start shedding clothing more and more each week, people actually say hello to each other, and spirits are flowing down gullets like a perpetual Irish festival.  This last fact lends itself to random procreation with strangers with no discrimination for looks or reputations.  

We pan into the 2nd floor dorm room in Hall 2 on a Thursday where we find the roommates chortling about some stupid soundbyte they found on the computer.  Jesse and Quin have just received their weekend's supply of alcohol from the senior staff (it should later be noted that the supply ran out on Thursday night to be refilled Friday night...and then again Saturday night.).  You can sense their pending excitement about the night's festivities to come, especially from Jesse, as he giggles like a school gir and tweaks his nipples much to Quin's disgust. 

As Quin contemplates his roommate's sexuality with much fear we'll fast forward this story to the night the horror show began.  We'll see it from Quin's eyes since he remembers everything crystal clear because he is like an elephant when he drinks, he never forgets (shut up I'm not fat and not gay like Jesse).

Unlike his gay and super uncool counterpart, Jesse, Quin can hold his liquor unlike no other.  Just because he likes to enjoy random forays into nature at odd times at night after having a few brews doesn't mean he's a wandering moron who ends up waking up next to his ex-roommate upon visiting college after graduation even though the bed was clearly his and the ex-roommate should have realized this but he's gay so he planted himself there knowing Quin would sleep there anyway...but this author digresses.  Where was I?  Oh right, the night Jesse met his chemically imbalanced mate.

She was a woman of stout stature, voluminous blond hair, blue eyes, and broad shoulders.  Any man would pine after her (stifling laughter).  She drew first blood by approaching Jesse in a cheetah like fashion during a party and not letting go of his jugular.  This often happened at parties for our dimwitted friend.  He'd stand there looking and acting like Kelso and the lady folk would flock to him.  No effort was ever made by Jesse.  Quin on the other hand had to club girls over the head with blunt objects and even then he got turned down (shut up I'm not ugly).  So anyway this girl fancied Jesse and Jesse obliged mostly because he just got through 690 games of Beirut.  Details are hazy at best from here on out,  but what happens the next morning on will forever be burned in our memories.

Author's best depiction Psycho Sue

Quin awakes the next morning in a haze only to find a bra-clad woman giving him the evil eye and saying, "You get a good look?" Quin, fearing for his life, says "No ma'am. Sorry ma'am. I'll just be on my way."  Quin wonders what the hell just happened there as he somehow just got kicked out of his own room.  He immediatly has no sympathy for his roommate and whatever may come to him in the next 24 hours.

Later in the day Jesse still has that post "i just hooked up" grin on his face until one of the dorm mates friends says "Dude, you hooked up with Psycho Sue?" Jesse's face shows confusion and he responds, "Yeah..Psycho Sue?" Dorm mate says, "hahaha oh man I used to date her, she is a whack job, do yourself a favor and GET OUT NOW!" 

Jesse's crestfallen face says it all and he now goes into a whirlwind of overanalysis on how to get out of his current predicament.  Quin is enjoying this news all too much as we see him curled up in a ball laughing at the mess Jesse has gotten himself into.  Jesse wants a second opinion...it is confirmed from several sources that Sue, is indeed, psycho. 

Now, there are a few options that Jesse could use here that could get him out of this jam:

1. He could flat out tell her if she comes a knocking that he wants nothing to do with her and what they did was from the effects of alcohol.  This apparently takes balls so that option is out for Jesse.
2. He could avoid her until he graduates college and is far away from her.  This is just outrageous, but probably his first choice
3. He could avoid her all day, and night, and ask his roommate to cover for him.  Then have someone else break the news to her. 

Bingo! We have a winner.  Let's take the story from there.

Jesse successfully avoids his mistress all night.  Its  kind of a game to him and he's enjoying it.  Everywhere he goes someone kiddingly says, "I just saw Psycho Sue and she's looking for you" upon which Jesse darts out of that establishment to find his next sanctuary. 

This was one of Jesse's genius disguises

Eventually he barges back into his room in hall 2, much to Quin's surprise.  Jesse blurts out in an exhausted mumble, "I was never here, you never saw me." He then proceeds to clear out beneath his bed, the snake aquarium thing, and laundry baskets.  He barricades himself under the bed and says, "you can't see me right?".  Quin, chuckling to himself says, "Nope...Psycho Sue?" Jesse, "yup." Quin nods to himself and continues watching the TV saying, "You know she's called like 40349 times." Jesse nervously responds," shhhh don't talk anymore."

Then there's a knock on the door. 

Psycho Sue, "Have you seen Jesse?"

Quin, "Nah sorry, don't know where he is."

Psycho Sue distraught and knowing whats going on, "You tell him I'm looking for him."

Quin trying his hardest not to laugh in her face because he values his balls and doesn't want to lose them, "OK". 

Quin to Jesse, She's gone now."

Jesse didn't come out from underneath that bed for another few hours according to Quin.  To think all that could have been avoided with something most humans call a confrontation.  How bad could it have been? 

We all know Quin would have handled it differently...  yup and he'd probably be married to her today.

The End

Old Travel Journal

I like to go back and read what I wrote years ago to see if it still holds up or if it was extremely lame. This entry was from around 2006 I think when a friend of mine was getting married in Long Island. I labeled "lame" in parenthesis for things that didn't hold up too well.

Hoolan's Wedding circa 2006?

I'd like to thank my counterparts for being "on point" with their ribbings, observations, and general boobery this weekend.  Everyone brought their "A" game which I was not expecting. 

The following events took place from Friday to Monday for the end of Hoolan's life as we know it...The Wedding in Long Island (lame and cliche line):

Friday:

I meet up with some college buddies of mine J-man and Dave a half hour after I told them I would.  Based on the intelligent texts and voicemails I got stating "Get your sweaty ass over here" I surmised that they weren't too happy with me. 

Upon disembarking from the Red Line I see J-man with a butt hanging out of his mouth ranting about how some Vietnamese guy was making him crack up.  Awesome start to the trip.

Our odyssey has begun with catch phrases and ongoing themes in hand for the weekend:

1. "WTF"(lame, I guess this was funny 6 years ago?),
2. "LOOOOOORD Jonathon Covington"(seems lame, but hilarious if you were there), and
3. "Fun Sponge"
4. "What's that smell?...oh jesus Dave, that's like hot garbage...no actually that's more like that beach bathroom smell where its like sand, shit, and urine mixed together." 

We stop off for food and Dave gets a steak Caesar wrap, his reaction was one of irate anger. 

• 30 minutes into the ride and we realize we have no clue how to get to Jesse's.
• 35 minutes into the ride I yell at Jesse to pick up his damn phone, I left a voicemail with the words that shall not be repeated for print. 
• 40 minutes in we realize we have GPS in the car and we are in the clear. 

We get to Jesse's a few hours later and we decide to go cosmic bowling...you heard me.  This is where it gets terrific.  Cosmic bowling involves a darkened alley, a DJ playing some of the latest hits (CT is behind the times like Germany so its actually stuff from our middle school dances as J-man shrewdly pointed out several times), and goofy looking children. I felt like I was at the Chernobyl incident. 

RIGHT when we got there Jesse excitedly states "LOOK AT THIS KID!, He's unbelievable! Seriously, just watch him."

Ummm...Jesse you frequent this place?

"Uhhh..."  Jesse proves us right by bowling quite the round, BUT NOTHING compared to the aforementioned neighbor who was bowling FOUR strings at a time and averaging a 260 on each. 

What was his name you ask??? It was Flash, his name was Flash.  I can't wrap my mind around this.  This kid, I can't even do it justice, I'm shaking right now trying to describe him.  He was like the Quasimodo of the bowling alley except he Cosmic sweated through his shirt more and he didn't have a bell tower to escape to when the other yokels started to harass him. 

Jesse took pity on the popularly challenged young lad and started yelling at the toothless Children of the Corn who were openly mocking him. I believe he called them bitches and spit tobacco at them even though he doesn't chew tobacco.  By the by, this courage came from the fact that the kids were barely 16.  In any event, it left Dave J-man and I cackling with delight. 

My comments didn't go over to well when I started saying "We don't solve our problems with our fists Jesse, we TAKE IT TO THE LANES!"  no one found it funny when we first walked in...no one found it funny at that moment, but I still tried to press it. 

Oh that's not all that happened folks, we took off with Jesse's sister, Tina, after this event and went to the Cadillac Ranch bar errrr saloon errr local sock hop joint? All I know is that it had a lot of wood and cowboy hats.  I felt like hitting someone over the head with a chair or a bottle the entire time I was there.  No lie, I could have sworn I saw 14 Jeff Foxworthy's there, so basically the bar can be summed up in one word, Awesome. 

We get in there and play some pool.  I REFUSE to repeat the thing I said that was just awful...eh screw it, Dave would tell you if I didn't so here it goes, but I'm throwing a disclaimer in here that this has happened to everyone on some level.  Have you ever had something in your head that said "this is going to kill" and then when you are saying it are like "oh shit, close your mouth now...close it you ass!"? Yeah, HUUUGE moment for me where not only was it met with awkward silence, it made me look and sound very gay.  NOT MY intent at all (I like caps lock apparently).

Ok having said that the waitress was going around with Jell-O shots in these plastic syringes and vials.  I took the plastic syringe thing and said "yeah, just shoot it into your mouth like a cumshot." wait for it...wait for it...OK now you can start making fun of me. In my head it was meant to make everyone else look gay, but it backfired. Needless to say my face was really red afterwards and Dave being the dickhead that he is wouldn't let it go. 

After pool we went down to the "dance floor".  It was a bunch of people doing a hick version of the Electric Slide continuously.  The same exact dance every single song, and they all looked miserable doing it.  Miserable or intense I couldn't tell.  J-man tried and they booted him off.  They seriously had a boundary line going all around the floor.  It was quite a sight to behold. 

I'm not going to go into the footprint I saw on the bathroom stall that was just entirely out of place because no one will, or did appreciate that as much as I did. 

I'm also not going to go into the fact that J-man got shot down by some girl after he saved her from someone even creepier than him because he and Dave are the ones who witnessed that fiasco, I can't do it justice. 

We go to the regular bar and we are sitting there when I hear this gurgling sound behind me, then a splatter, then J-man saying VERY calmly, "Ok bout time we get out of here." I look, and there's J-man's first puke of the weekend.  He acted like it never even happened.  You are supposed to be somewhat fatigued and have a weird glossy look to your face after puking, but J-man is a seasoned veteran and all you get is a gurgle, splat, and amusing comment afterwards.  Bravo J-man.

It was uneventful after this...or maybe I just semi blacked out.  OH wait, I learned the EXACT mechanics on how to arm wrestle from the Over the Top arm wrestling champions of the world, The Miron Siblings.  Good stuff.  Dave passed out spooning with the dog, good for him.

Saturday:

We wake up to play some golf.  Everyone sucks except me, that's a shame. Thanks for the money guys.  I don't remember anything all that funny happening on the golf course (see semi blacked out) so we'll move on to the commute down to Long Island. 

Dave wanted Twisted Teas (lame for Dave, he called them "Pounders" too) for the ride down and Jesse wanted coffee, neither of them knew the other was going for this.  Jesse went in for coffee, Dave went into the liquor store shortly after. 

Jesse gets back into the car and drives off with J-man and I snickering in the back.  Guilt overcame me for some reason so I yelled "KEVIN!" like in Home Alone and we turned around to see Dave standing outside the liquor store like an abandoned waif.  Very amusing. 

Again thank god for GPS or I don't think we would have found our way around anywhere this weekend.  We get down to the hotel and check in, I can't upgrade my room to 2 beds, nor a cot. Dave, J-man, and I get into our room and notice that the bed looks like something out of a 3 Stooges episode, it was huge.  Yup we all slept in it, I think I was Moe...or Shemp. 

We then went to eat next door at this place called Ciao Baby.  We are waited on by a man who likes other men and a women who likes young men.  We bought her a drink and told the other waiter to screw...the chefs in the backroom.  Dave tried to give her lip and she called him an "obvious virgin". 

I got the filet mignon which when served resembled steak tartar, and it was cold in the middle.  I still ate it because I'm a tough guy.  Filet mignon is usually 8 oz or so, this thing was 16oz. I'm an idiot, didn't realize ...you know what, its irrelevant.  The bill comes to 4380234 dollars and we get a call from the rest of the crew that they are at T.G.I.F down the street where we could have eaten for $25 so it leaves me saying W.T.F., and I'm the dolt who volunteered his credit card. 

Nothing much happens at TGIF other than Jesse calling Mike a fun sponge...or did he do that at the wedding...ehhh doesn't matter, fun sponge was the phrase of the weekend for whoever looked miserable or angry.  Amie regaled everyone with her gross nursing stories per Jesse's urging.  As we were leaving Friday's J-man began his second puking binge of the weekend leaving Joey Caps to say "Nice Distance."  That kid has to have the most soft spoken and best one liners anywhere.  In Atlantic City a certain individual asked what to do about a lodged booger that he was trying to wrangle free and Joe replied with "Don't give up." Guess you had to be there.

Sunday:

None of the boobs had gotten cards yet so we traveled to Wal-Mart where I was designated fun sponge for the day. 

We were at the stage of hungoverness where everything is funny.  Dave decided to get a card with a dog on the front that said "Adios!" and on the inside it said "That's Spanish for: See you later.  Never to see the people you care about ever again."...or at least something like that. 

Keep in mind these guys only had cards to buy and for some reason this Wal-Mart didn't have an express line, and I wasn't buying anything.  I went because there was promise of food. You can imagine my ire rising when I saw how long the lines were. 

That didn't stop the good mood of the Goof Troop and their observations of the top 5 ugliest families ever inbred..i mean bred.  Dave pointed out the biggest mustache I have ever seen on the moth...I mean father.  I was distracted by the asses that were hanging out of the daughters shorts, yes I pluralized the ass because there were like 45 of them. 

Something else caught my eye when the buzzers went off for the 11th time on someone trying to steal, but I didn't really catch this anomaly until the 12th time...A MIDGET came out of nowhere and intercepted an old man trying to smuggle some shaving cream out of the place.  She was like a small ninja repelling from ropes in the ceiling.  A Wal-Mart oompa loompa if you will, but it just thoroughly fascinated me that she commanded this presence and intimidated these people. 

We go back and get ready for the wedding.  I get ripped on for having Barbasol shaving cream and my barber gel.  I respond in kind by making fun of Andy for his Alex P Keaton outfit consisting of a blazer and khaki pants.  That took the heat off me for a bit until the fun sponge comments started really roaring. 

We get to the church after a stunt jump over some railroad tracks and I immediately fall asleep.  I'm thinking the wedding was probably nice.  I woke up in time to whisper "can I get in on that." (*joke from Atlantic City) to Dave when Hoolan kissed Hope to complete the marriage sacrament. 

The reception line had me saying to Hope, "Eh you look alright." and then continuing on down the line.  She didn't like that too much, but I was obviously kidding.  Actually maybe she didn't like the booze smell that was dripping off of me. 

We get a shuttle to the reception and stand around like boobs for an hour before we go inside.  It was all beautiful, blah blah blah.  Anyway we sit down and the 2nd half of the Bryant tables blurts out in laughter because they are the only table without a centerpiece.  Hoolan must have known something bad would have happened if glass and candles were within a 50 ft radius of Pete Mulligan. 

This later turned out to be true as Pete slipped hard on the dance floor with me almost going right after him.  Ah yes the boobery on the dance floor where I defied the laws of biophysics with sweat from my shoulder outward rather than my armpits.  Jesse and I managed to ruin several pictures that we weren't supposed to be in but popped into anyway.
Here are three from that weekend:



Please Note the aforementioned sweat on my shoulder.



I'm starting to fizzle out here so I'll just say that I got drunk and it culminated in me yelling at Andy to drink a beer like he was pledging again.  The ride home sucked and I haven't shaken that bad since I kicked heroin (*that’s a joke by the way it was actually crystal meth).



The Quin Report

By Stephen P. Quin
I emailed this yesterday after the B's took Game 3 of the Stanley Cup Finals.

 Boston (QP)- I will always remember the smell at around 9:30PM on June 6, 2011. Victory never smelled so much like bacon being cooked.

Unfortunately it was a Pyrrhic victory as our most clutch soldier fell on the frozen grounds of the Garden. Struck down by an errant, and malicious, shoulder to the head. As I watched while Horton was in the throes of early rigor mortis, I found myself with some vomit in my mouth...and a multitude of questions as they sent him off the ice like a Viking funeral.
Would this galvanize the team? Shatter their psyche? Would the crowd put the green men's heads on pikes?Would Milbury zip line with his Salvation Army tie from the rafters and beat everyone with his shoes?

A 5 minute major power play did not instill much confidence, a listless response to a fallen hero had me confused, and a lackluster announcing team that wants to suck Vancouver's collective nether regions did nothing to calm my burning anger. To that point, Mad Jack Edwards was sorely needed. The first period left me confused, extremely angry, but at the same time deflated. The only saving grace was Thomas, who seemed hell bent on putting a chastity belt on that net.
I took that morsel of hope into the second period and then...a broken stick...an aggressive forecheck...a pass to the point...knuckle puck...screen...GOAAAAL!!!
Fast forward a little, what's that smell? sniff sniff...oh man that smells good. Marchand self passes. Is that bacon? Marchand outspeeds his defender. Cripes! That is bacon. Marchand patiently waits for Luongo to do his best earthquake safety drill. BACONNN!!!! Marchand roofs the puck for the knife, no bet yet, the machete to the chest. The rest of that period was a blur of Vancouver bodies being annihilated into the boards like cartoon characters.
The third period had more chips than a Lays bag. Vancouver was owned in the 2nd period through offense and grit. Then they were owned in the third period through defilement (see Milan Lucic's Dirty Sanchez to Burrows) and utter physical domination (see any number of destructive body checks). I've never seen fear on a hockey player's face before, but Burrows wore it like "The Scream" by Munch.
I hope the epliogue to this Stanley Cup run is that Horton makes a miraculous comeback in Game 6 and scores the game winning goal with a neck brace on.

Gets My Goat Series Entry 4- "You want misogyny...I'll give you misogyny"

Why is it that EVERY fucking female feels the need to put their arsenal of supplies on FAST food service counters? They need to have a fucking Express Male Correct Change Line for all of us "on the go" types.



"Medium Coffee please, $2.56. Here's $3."

See you later.

I’m out the door without my change. I don't care about those nickels. Thomas Jefferson can go lie in the change drawer with the rest of his cronies. My point is, I'm in and out.



However, these stupid women want a "Double Mocha Latte with extra sugar, a twist of lime, several varieties of cream, and a husband. Oh oh Yes and I’d like 25 munchkins and a dozen donuts...no no not that donut those are filled with carbs." (They are all filled with f'ing carbs you fat wilderbeast.)



Since none of the people speak English they come back every 2 seconds with "did you want sugar in that?" "how many munchkins did you want?" except it sounds more like "gooba dee baba go go?"



Then I look for other lines to go in and its the same across the board; Antsy males with their money ready just waiting to order their coffees all with the same exasperated air about themselves. I give them all the courtesy nod, roll of the eyes, and shake of the head as if to say "Women can't live with em, can't punch them in the face with brass knuckles".



After these whores finally finish their order they have to search through their entire bag for their purse so they can give exact change with the big bill they have in their hand because they think that is faster than just paying with the $20 bill they have in their hand at the moment.



Not to mention the fact that the people at the counter are just extra confused when you give them change on top of the $20, and it takes them an extra (I’m not exaggerating) 2 minutes to figure out that they have to press one extra button on the register to compute the denomination. Actually, in another instance I saw one registrar call over an f'ing manager to help with the math I've seen dolphins do on the Discovery Channel, but I digress.



So after they've taken everything out of their purse and put it on the counter that is already housing their scarf, mittens, walkman/iPod, keys, license, wallet, small child, and birth control pills they of course have to put everything back into the purse. I swear one of these days I'm going to push the bitch out of the way, open her bag, and just slide everything into it in a messy manner. Then upon finishing that I'll give her a swift kick in the ass. I realize I talk the talk, but it would be great to be able to do this once...just once and not have to suffer the consequences.

Few ways this could be avoided

1) DON'T hold the door open for ladies. You aren't going to get their number, they never say thank you, and they never give you a second glance. It would be funnier if you didn't open the door for them and let it shut in their face because they aren't expecting it and they end up walking into the door. High and mighty bitches...MEET GLASS!

2) All women should go to Starbucks. You are ordering the stupidest drinks ever anyway so you might as well go to the stupidest coffee place ever. You are trying to pretend to be crunchy granolie so you might as well go to the crunchiest place on the planet. Coffee Barista, fuck off. You like the place, that’s fine. Starbucks is great if you HAVE time to sit and relax and have a cup of whatever it is you get. You like variety so Starbucks is definitely the place for you. Dunkin Donuts is meat and potatoes; I shouldn't have to deal with Prissy Miss Bitchfest every morning. They shouldn't be mad at the world because they got a degree in Art History or English Lit and the only job they could get was a two bit secretarial job...NOW go get my coffee and then fax this over to more important people than you...



3) Make coffee at home or get coffee at work. A very simple solution, and one I have abided by for several years until this morning. Nothing has changed

Gets My Goat Series: Entry 3- "You Can Fight City Hall" & "Its the Little Things"

"You Can Fight City Hall"

 

 

After appealing my 3rd or 4th parking ticket, and winning each, I had to go back to my first one to see why I've become so successful at it.

 

June 17, 2010

Hearing Officer
Salem City Hall
93 Washington Street
Salem, MA 01970

RE: Parking Ticket Violation #3221926
To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing to appeal parking ticket #3221926 from 6/3/10. The electronic parking machine was malfunctioning on the day in question and would not accept my card for payment. I did not have $2 cash on me at the time and the train was pulling in. I chose to catch the train as these machines have malfunctioned on many occasions.

 

Also, contrary to some people's belief, Good Samaritans do not exist. All of the people waiting in line looked at me like I had a cardboard cutout saying "Homeless, need $2 to live" after I asked if anyone had an extra $2. One person even spit on me, and another told me to get a job. I was wearing a suit. Its not as if I looked like this guy:

 

(I obviously did not put that picture or last paragraph in the letter...although maybe I should have)

Your office has probably heard numerous complaints since I saw a parking assistant down there the following Monday. I quickly blamed everything on him and would have promptly kicked him in the head, but he was wearing a neon orange protective vest coupled with an awesome moustache so I refrained from using force.

 

I do not have any additional supporting evidence other than a red face from anger, and a stubbed toe from kicking the machine (it wasn't wearing a vest).

I have enclosed a check for $2.00 as that is what I feel I owe. If my appeal is declined from this letter then I am requesting a hearing as stated in paragraph 2, sentence 2 on the violation.

Thank you in advance for your consideration on this matter.

Please contact me at (***-***-****) if further information is required.

Sincerely,


SPQ
Enclosure

"Its the Little Things"

 

 Here is a list of three things that were bothering me in March of 2010, and easily would still bother me right now if it happened again (which they have):

1) Blue Cross/Blue Shield sending me a healthcare survey without return postage. They'll send another one next month saying that I haven't filled out the survey, and so on and so on. I refuse to do a chore if I have to pay for it.

2) Stupid lady on the train who smushed next to me. First of all, she decides to eat a delicious looking muffin, which isn't that aggravating. However, if you are going to eat a piece of art you should treat it with respect. Instead, she made it look like garbage after she licked her fingers very loudly after every bite. Fair warning to my fellow Boston commuters, don't shake her hand if you see her (she looked like Ricki Lake). It was like watching a child eat a cookie for 5 hours, all soggy and linty.

3) People who don't understand the physics of multiple objects occupying the same space. Run on sentence alert! Folks, you can't walk down the middle of a flight of stairs that is about 20 feet wide side by side at a snails pace during foot traffic rush hour, and expect me not to push you out of the way. Think twice before "guffawing" because I didn't make the rules, science did.

 

 

Gets My Goat Series: Entry 2 "Cats" & "Baby Age"



Really? This is a comforting animal?



Why I Hate Cats:

A Rant Brought to You by SQ

There are times when you realize that your handheld technology is obsolete and you wish you could upgrade instantly. This morning on the train I wish my iPod volume could go to 11 (may bad things happen to you if you don't understand that movie reference) due to an inane conversation between 2 ladies about their respective cats.

I hate cats.

Why do people love these creatures? I'm not an animal lover in the first place, but cats? really? They are rude, sneaky, lazy, pee all over the place in an extremely smelly manner (I hate that smell in houses), and way too arrogant for an animal beneath me on the food chain.

I hate cats.

They don't even have a good connotation associated with their species as opposed to their more favorable pet counterparts, dogs. Consider the following:

1. Catfight vs. Dogfight- Ummm, YES I'd definitely want to be associated with a kickass aerial battle rather than a slapfest over some stupid topic.
2. Pussy vs. Puppy- I'd rather be associated with something cute and harmless rather than weak or timid.
3. Acting catty vs. Dogging it- I'd much rather be seen as lazy than bitchy and jealous for no reason.
4. Tom, Garfield, Snagglepuss, Heathcliff, Mongo, Riff Raff, Wordsworth, and Cleo (slutty vixen) were all assholes but Underdog, Clifford, Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, Brandon from Punky, and Odie were all heroic or kind.

I hate cats.

 

"But Steve they are great to have around the house because they kill mice and other rodents" Really? First of all, if you are living in a house with a mouse problem that bad then you have other problems. Secondly, DeCon also kills mice and other rodents but I don't slap a collar on it and call those boxes Sheba.

 

I hate cats.

 

I hate cats.

 

Who wants an animal that more than 10 million people in the U.S. alone are allergic to? Is there another living thing on the planet that can make you break out in hives, incite asthma attacks, and make you want to take your eyeballs out? (cue the "my wife/husband" jokes) Bees don't count because they are vital to our ecosystem and are just protecting themselves. Cats do it to us just to piss us off.

 

I hate cats, did I mention that yet?.

 

Why I Hate Some People Reason #431:

Referring to children's ages by months

 

I've lamented this fact on several occassions, but it still really bugs me when parents continue to refer to their childrens' age by months after they turn one. Your child is not 24 months, he/she is 2.

 

I don't want to have to do math when I am asking a simple question. Its like giving me metric measurements instead of English ones. This is America people, lets not start acting like those whacky Europeans.

 

Why do you parents do this? If its just because toy stores and baby clothes label packages that way then I have to say, "Stop!" because that's a lame excuse to keep using months as an age. People aren't always asking the child's age because they are going to run out to the store and buy them a onesy the minute they find out.

 

They ask because they are curious about a potential oddity. For instance, "Wow, he speaks pretty well, how old is he?...Oh 48 months old you say?" (snicker to yourself because he does not speak well at ALL for a 4 year old.)  or "Wow look at the size of that noggin, how old?"

 

I FULLY give anyone permission to punch me directly in the nose if I become part of the rabble after my child turns 1....or is close to 1. If my boy/girl is 6 months old, he/she is now 1/2 year old and when he/she turns 7 months-11 months he/she is "almost 1" or "he/she will be one in August".