Attention Wal-Mart Shoppers!
Is there a correlation between money and manners?
Common sense tells me a person can have manners or kindness or class no matter what their stock portfolio contains. Hell, I don't even HAVE a stock portfolio and I think I'm more often nice than not nice.
Common sense does not apply at Wal-Mart.
I realize people from all backgrounds shop there. But what is it about those Always Low Prices that brings out the ass in people?
Tonight I was doomed to go there after work. Had to have food for dinner, mainly. I realize Wal-Mart is evil and I shouldn't shop there. But give me a break. I literally can't afford Price Chopper. Even HyVee is a bit out of my budget on some things.
As I sat in the parking lot (because I whined and Mr. Buffie went in without me) I observed the most obnoxious behavior.
First of all, we encountered the classic "I know you were waiting for this space, but I was able to pull in faster, so fuck you" move. Fucking bad-highlights bitch and her bad-highlights in training fugly frowning teen daughter. Fuck you both, bitches. For all you know we would have offered you the space. You didn't have to be a hateful selfish whore.
Then I witness other outrageous things. People will drive on your ass if you don't move. Apparently waiting for a pedestrian to walk 5 yards is JUSTTOOLONGTOWAIT because they are INAHURRY! Therefore they're going to pause and creep forward as you walk, creeping faster the closer you get to the other side, finally reaching about 45 mph when you've cleared their path. No they literally DO NOT have an extra 30 seconds to let you cross without fear. THEY are VERY important people who have places to GO and people to SEE!!!! Very important! Hurry! Move along! Coming through!
What's worse? These people are steadily rolling toward you as you're walking AND they're swatting at 15 loose kids floundering in the back seat while trying to insert their cell phones into their skulls and scounting a parking space to steal from someone else who's been waiting for it for 5 minutes.
Ohhh, let's not forget my favorite part of the Wal-Mart parking lot experience... the varied flotsam and jetsam strewn about the place. Dirty diapers, plastic cups, those notorious blue bags. Yet I see trash can after trash can, too. All standing purposefully in their convenient locations, ready and willing to accept your refuse. What lovely people must have left these treasures just lying on the ground? Why, I can't possibly imagine.
Shopping carts. They revolutionized the grocery store experience. Life would not be the same without them. Yet they're abandoned among the cars or the little grassy medians at the end of the parking rows. Meanwhile the shopping cart return stalls are ghost towns with tumbleweeds blowing across their dusty lanes.
To summarize - Wal-Mart parking lots are viewed by most as a good place to:
qualify for a NASCAR race.
discuss football practice schedules on your cell phone.
be as selfish as humanly possible.
leave shit-bombs... err... diapers for others to find and enjoy.
discard your used shopping cart by picking any direction that points away from your car and shoving it as hard as you can.
do all of the above at the exact same moment.
...and ... my favorite... observe some of the worst that humanity has to offer without being involved in active warfare or being in maximum security prison.
Clean up on aisle 3.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Perez Hilton goes from fat... to fat hater? Must be bitchy cuz he’s HUNGRY! 09Aug08
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Thursday, August 7, 2008
From the ashes of the most insignificant thing I’ve done all day... 07Aug08
If you know me, or if you're at least familiar with me, then you're probably aware that I'm not exactly "serious". Sure, I fuss and complain a lot, but it's mostly for fun.
There isn't a lot worth taking "seriously". Life is too short to live without humor in massive amounts. A light heart is a happy heart.
But, being a sensible girl, I do hold a few tasks in rather high regard when it comes to seriousness.
One of those things is driving. I ~heart~ horsepower, but I'm not willing to risk my life or someone else's life by using horsepower foolishly. Going fast is for race tracks or places where you pose a danger only to yourself and even then the chances are slim. Horsepower is for a controlled environment.
Driving means driving. Not texting, talking on the phone, eating, putting on make up, dicking around with the iPod, gawking at things that aren't on the road, not the place to be if you've been partying with adult beverages or other substances.
Tonight I was at a red light, a notoriously long one. So I used that moment to call home and let someone know to expect me soon. Just in case I should be kidnapped en route or something. (As if someone could actually do that.)
I used the time at the light to make a simple call and put my phone back in my purse in the passenger seat. After the call ended, I hung up the phone and checked the light. Still red. I opened my purse. Checked again and the light was green. I hesitated, just long enough to make sure I dropped the phone into the open top of my bag. I pushed on the pedal. The car crept forward. (Like I said, even though I -could- treat every intersection like the starting line at the drag strip, that's a waste of gas and just kind of dumb.)
Then my windshield was dark, yet only for a moment. For just a whisper of a second, I was engulfed in the shadow of a commercial truck hauling a container. Full speed ahead. Woosh. In it's wake, it left a quiet but powerful wave of air that slightly rocked my car as it blew past, less than a yard from the forward edge of my car. Perhaps closer.
I can't remember now if the container was grey or that faded rusty red color so many of them seem to be. I am pretty sure the truck was dark blue. But at that moment, things were happening so fast and so slow at the same time. For some reason, my memory forgot to record in color.
My mind hasn't been so clear in years. I remember every song I heard on the way home. I remember thinking of all the things I would have done for the last time, had I not hesitated at that light. I thought about the last phone call I had with Mr. Buffie. I thought about all the mundane things I did today and how I have every intention of showing up tomorrow to do them again because I've become so arrogant in my thinking that I feel entitled to the future.
The future is just a theory. Just an idea. It isn't "real". Only right now is real. Only right now is a guarantee.
It took hours, minutes, days to digest what happened. I let off the gas and just sat there in disbelief. I looked around at the other cars to see if anyone saw what I did, like catching a look at bigfoot and wondering if you were the only one who noticed. I don't even remember what I saw. There's just a blur and the moment really only lasted a fraction of a second but felt like a wait in line at the DMV.
I did go through the intersection eventually. And I think I kind of floated home.
People joke about being run over by a bus or getting hit by a Mack truck. I joke about that stuff, too. I joke a lot about being plowed over by a crazed, distracted, pill popping soccer mom speeding in her giant SUV while she's on her cell phone, eating a power bar, and yelling at her kids.
I will probably joke about it tomorrow. But it will never be the same. Because sometimes, that red light really is just a suggestion to someone. Why am I so sure this was almost Buffie's Last Night in Town? Think about it. The speed limit on that highway is 45 to 55 depending on where you are. This is a huge commercial truck, and I have no way of knowing (thank goodness) whether he was loaded or unladen. Still, that's a lot more iron and steel than my Z28. I don't even have a real roof on my car. I have glass t-tops. Total pancake scenario.
(Disclaimer - The vast majority of commercial truck drivers are experienced professionals who would never dream of doing something so dangerous and STUPID. In fact, stats show that in accidents involving passenger cars and commercial trucks, the PASSENGER CAR is *at fault* MOST of the time. I have a lot of respect for truck drivers and what they mean to life as we know it. If it weren't for truck drivers, we'd be going to the train depot to buy groceries, clothes, and electronics. No thank you.)
Who would ever guess that the most insignificant task could have an impact on whether you live or die in a given moment. Putting my cell phone in my purse. I hesitated to make sure it actually fell into my purse, instead of on to the seat. Had I not done that, I would have accelerated just far enough for my hood to be under the front tires and the passenger compartment to absorb the impact of the radiator and engine.
Coming home tonight was like coming home for the first time. It's like waking up and not knowing where I am now. This near-encounter has blown a fuse in me and now I'm not as familiar as I used to be.
This is so dumb. Am I overreacting? Am I not reacting enough? I've never been so numb and I've never been so cautiously aware of my world. I'm equally glad it happened and wishing it would never have happened. Experiences like these... what can I really learn from it? I'm already a very good, careful, responsible driver. (Not perfect, but a damn lot better than MANY people with whom I must unfortunately share the road.) If nothing more comes of this than a weeks long episode of insomnia, then what's it for?
Does it have to be "for" anything? Does everything truly happen for a reason? Tonight has been both an argument for and against that philosophy. Perhaps hesitating with my cell phone happened for a reason, because I was not in the intersection when the truck ran the light. However, the truck ran the light and this is the closest thing I have ever had to a near-death experience (and something I do NOT wish to repeat).
Tomorrow is going to be the same as it ever was, but it isn't going to look at all how I expected.
There isn't a lot worth taking "seriously". Life is too short to live without humor in massive amounts. A light heart is a happy heart.
But, being a sensible girl, I do hold a few tasks in rather high regard when it comes to seriousness.
One of those things is driving. I ~heart~ horsepower, but I'm not willing to risk my life or someone else's life by using horsepower foolishly. Going fast is for race tracks or places where you pose a danger only to yourself and even then the chances are slim. Horsepower is for a controlled environment.
Driving means driving. Not texting, talking on the phone, eating, putting on make up, dicking around with the iPod, gawking at things that aren't on the road, not the place to be if you've been partying with adult beverages or other substances.
Tonight I was at a red light, a notoriously long one. So I used that moment to call home and let someone know to expect me soon. Just in case I should be kidnapped en route or something. (As if someone could actually do that.)
I used the time at the light to make a simple call and put my phone back in my purse in the passenger seat. After the call ended, I hung up the phone and checked the light. Still red. I opened my purse. Checked again and the light was green. I hesitated, just long enough to make sure I dropped the phone into the open top of my bag. I pushed on the pedal. The car crept forward. (Like I said, even though I -could- treat every intersection like the starting line at the drag strip, that's a waste of gas and just kind of dumb.)
Then my windshield was dark, yet only for a moment. For just a whisper of a second, I was engulfed in the shadow of a commercial truck hauling a container. Full speed ahead. Woosh. In it's wake, it left a quiet but powerful wave of air that slightly rocked my car as it blew past, less than a yard from the forward edge of my car. Perhaps closer.
I can't remember now if the container was grey or that faded rusty red color so many of them seem to be. I am pretty sure the truck was dark blue. But at that moment, things were happening so fast and so slow at the same time. For some reason, my memory forgot to record in color.
My mind hasn't been so clear in years. I remember every song I heard on the way home. I remember thinking of all the things I would have done for the last time, had I not hesitated at that light. I thought about the last phone call I had with Mr. Buffie. I thought about all the mundane things I did today and how I have every intention of showing up tomorrow to do them again because I've become so arrogant in my thinking that I feel entitled to the future.
The future is just a theory. Just an idea. It isn't "real". Only right now is real. Only right now is a guarantee.
It took hours, minutes, days to digest what happened. I let off the gas and just sat there in disbelief. I looked around at the other cars to see if anyone saw what I did, like catching a look at bigfoot and wondering if you were the only one who noticed. I don't even remember what I saw. There's just a blur and the moment really only lasted a fraction of a second but felt like a wait in line at the DMV.
I did go through the intersection eventually. And I think I kind of floated home.
People joke about being run over by a bus or getting hit by a Mack truck. I joke about that stuff, too. I joke a lot about being plowed over by a crazed, distracted, pill popping soccer mom speeding in her giant SUV while she's on her cell phone, eating a power bar, and yelling at her kids.
I will probably joke about it tomorrow. But it will never be the same. Because sometimes, that red light really is just a suggestion to someone. Why am I so sure this was almost Buffie's Last Night in Town? Think about it. The speed limit on that highway is 45 to 55 depending on where you are. This is a huge commercial truck, and I have no way of knowing (thank goodness) whether he was loaded or unladen. Still, that's a lot more iron and steel than my Z28. I don't even have a real roof on my car. I have glass t-tops. Total pancake scenario.
(Disclaimer - The vast majority of commercial truck drivers are experienced professionals who would never dream of doing something so dangerous and STUPID. In fact, stats show that in accidents involving passenger cars and commercial trucks, the PASSENGER CAR is *at fault* MOST of the time. I have a lot of respect for truck drivers and what they mean to life as we know it. If it weren't for truck drivers, we'd be going to the train depot to buy groceries, clothes, and electronics. No thank you.)
Who would ever guess that the most insignificant task could have an impact on whether you live or die in a given moment. Putting my cell phone in my purse. I hesitated to make sure it actually fell into my purse, instead of on to the seat. Had I not done that, I would have accelerated just far enough for my hood to be under the front tires and the passenger compartment to absorb the impact of the radiator and engine.
Coming home tonight was like coming home for the first time. It's like waking up and not knowing where I am now. This near-encounter has blown a fuse in me and now I'm not as familiar as I used to be.
This is so dumb. Am I overreacting? Am I not reacting enough? I've never been so numb and I've never been so cautiously aware of my world. I'm equally glad it happened and wishing it would never have happened. Experiences like these... what can I really learn from it? I'm already a very good, careful, responsible driver. (Not perfect, but a damn lot better than MANY people with whom I must unfortunately share the road.) If nothing more comes of this than a weeks long episode of insomnia, then what's it for?
Does it have to be "for" anything? Does everything truly happen for a reason? Tonight has been both an argument for and against that philosophy. Perhaps hesitating with my cell phone happened for a reason, because I was not in the intersection when the truck ran the light. However, the truck ran the light and this is the closest thing I have ever had to a near-death experience (and something I do NOT wish to repeat).
Tomorrow is going to be the same as it ever was, but it isn't going to look at all how I expected.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
She LIES! Jillian Barberie and Nutrisystem LIE LIE LIE LIE LIE! 05Aug08
How fucking dumb do the folks at Nutrisystem's ad firm think we are? That's a rehtorical question. Obviously they think we're extremely fucked up to believe their shit products actually "work".
Case in point:
Jillian Barberie is now doing the "I lost weight on Nutrisystem and YOU can too! Here's my fat 'before' picture and look at my cocaine-slim frame now!" schtick.
Here's where I have a problem. Her "BEFORE" picture was OBVIOUSLY taken while she was preganant! DUH! Her pregnancy was in the celebrity gossip rags for one thing. Plus, in the "Before" photo, she's all baby-belly. No actual "fat" is seen on her body.
She lost 40 pounds on Nutrisystem! (What she fails to mention is that she lost 18 pounds on the day she GAVE BIRTH.) I don't really know if she had assistance from the nose powder, but let's face it, that's how a lot of Hollywood achieves the whippet look.
What pandering bullshit is this anyway? Come ON Nutrisystem. Don't feed me yellow snow and tell me it's a lemon slush.
But it just goes to show how many morons in this world, in 2008, still adhere to the belief that fat people are generally stupid, lazy slobs. Here's a newsflash, stupid lazy slobs come in ALL shapes and sizes. Likewise fat people possess an array of qualities, including intelligence, motivation, cleanliness and beauty. Get with the NOW already. 2009 will be here in a matter of months. Do you really want to be the last person stumbling around in life with a bunch of tired, old, lame stereotypes clouding up your thoughts? Not saying folks have to learn to "like" big people if they don't already, but they could at least not assume we're all dumb as a sack full of hammers.
For the record, Nutrisystem's diet doesn't sound appealing at all. Even if I wanted to be skinny, I wouldn't eat that stuff. Countless people describe it as unedible, salty, horrible looking, awful tasting microwave food. Nooooo thanks. Fresh salads and running around the block sounds by far and wide like a better deal.
So that's three shove-it's in one day!
A Shove It to Nutrisystem.
A Shove It to Jilliam Barberie for allowing her pregnancy to be exploited in that way.
An earlier Shove It to the fear mongering media.
That was exhausting. Shoving is good exercise. ~winkies~
Case in point:
Jillian Barberie is now doing the "I lost weight on Nutrisystem and YOU can too! Here's my fat 'before' picture and look at my cocaine-slim frame now!" schtick.
Here's where I have a problem. Her "BEFORE" picture was OBVIOUSLY taken while she was preganant! DUH! Her pregnancy was in the celebrity gossip rags for one thing. Plus, in the "Before" photo, she's all baby-belly. No actual "fat" is seen on her body.
She lost 40 pounds on Nutrisystem! (What she fails to mention is that she lost 18 pounds on the day she GAVE BIRTH.) I don't really know if she had assistance from the nose powder, but let's face it, that's how a lot of Hollywood achieves the whippet look.
What pandering bullshit is this anyway? Come ON Nutrisystem. Don't feed me yellow snow and tell me it's a lemon slush.
But it just goes to show how many morons in this world, in 2008, still adhere to the belief that fat people are generally stupid, lazy slobs. Here's a newsflash, stupid lazy slobs come in ALL shapes and sizes. Likewise fat people possess an array of qualities, including intelligence, motivation, cleanliness and beauty. Get with the NOW already. 2009 will be here in a matter of months. Do you really want to be the last person stumbling around in life with a bunch of tired, old, lame stereotypes clouding up your thoughts? Not saying folks have to learn to "like" big people if they don't already, but they could at least not assume we're all dumb as a sack full of hammers.
For the record, Nutrisystem's diet doesn't sound appealing at all. Even if I wanted to be skinny, I wouldn't eat that stuff. Countless people describe it as unedible, salty, horrible looking, awful tasting microwave food. Nooooo thanks. Fresh salads and running around the block sounds by far and wide like a better deal.
So that's three shove-it's in one day!
A Shove It to Nutrisystem.
A Shove It to Jilliam Barberie for allowing her pregnancy to be exploited in that way.
An earlier Shove It to the fear mongering media.
That was exhausting. Shoving is good exercise. ~winkies~
Monday, August 4, 2008
Ramble at your own risk! BEWARE! People may actually read it! 04Aug08
For punishment, I often read CNN.com, MSNBC.com and if I've been really naughty, FoxNews.com.
On one of those sites I read an article about how medical students could be doing "damage" to their careers by posting photos of themselves on the MySpace or FaceBook or whatever else.
Really?
Because frankly, how many people expect their doctor to be a robot who has never been photographed, never socialized online, never done anything resembling fun ever ever ever? A show of hands please?
I didn't think so.
Now, it's one thing to be photographed burning a cross and wearing a big white hood and expect to have ethnically diverse clients. But if that is who you really are, by all means, BE who you really are. I'm sure black patients would rather know you're a bigot in order to avoid seeking your services. You'd be doing them and yourself a favor. Same goes for the ObGyn who might post photos of himself with a "No Fat Chicks" t-shirt. Sure as the sun rises, I would not want to have him for a doctor, so if he discloses that on his MySpace (and who checks our their doctor on MySpace anyway) then this is information that helps me very much in my decision making.
Why all the paranoia about what we do online? Is this somehow worse than what we do in person? Because frankly, if there's a witness, then it's history you can't erase, whether it's stored digitally or in someone's memory. A digital record is at least typically more reliable than a memory... less open for debate, all things considered and if the data has not been manipulated or altered.
Should I be paranoid about what I do online? Heck no. What I do here I would do anywhere. Why does it matter if it's preserved in text and photos? Some of this stuff I don't want to forget. This serves as a great record of good times I've had and fun people I know. Even if I were going to be a doctor, I would not change a thing.
Don't misunderstand me to say that I think someone should act however the fuck they want in whatever company. I do believe in manners and respect and certain social standards. But that's mostly a matter of common sense. Don't swear in front of your grandparents. Don't wear low-rise jeans exposing your purple glitter thong to your office unless your boss is Hugh Hefner. Chew with your mouth closed. Say 'please' and 'thank you' when it's appropriate. Simple stuff.
But don't hide under your bed and think you've ruined your life because you were photographed holding a beer at a pub with some friends. I'm relatively sure at some point in history, at least one successful doctor has had a beer or been in a pub.
People who are paranoid and freaking out about things they've done or said online should perhaps evaluate who they are in person. Why do they feel like they have to be different where the interwebs is concerned? The best person you can be is who you ARE. Own it. No one is perfect, including you. So say 'fuck it' and have a life you enjoy and share that life with the people who matter to you.
Don't let the media's fear mongering bully you away from being yourself. No one likes it when the bully wins.
Screw you, medical-student-online-life-study-people! Quit snooping around on other people and find your own way to post drunken slack-jaw photos of yourself online. Maybe if you weren't acting all super spy online, you'd actually have drunken fun worthy of photographing!
Pfffffttttt!!!!!!!
On one of those sites I read an article about how medical students could be doing "damage" to their careers by posting photos of themselves on the MySpace or FaceBook or whatever else.
Really?
Because frankly, how many people expect their doctor to be a robot who has never been photographed, never socialized online, never done anything resembling fun ever ever ever? A show of hands please?
I didn't think so.
Now, it's one thing to be photographed burning a cross and wearing a big white hood and expect to have ethnically diverse clients. But if that is who you really are, by all means, BE who you really are. I'm sure black patients would rather know you're a bigot in order to avoid seeking your services. You'd be doing them and yourself a favor. Same goes for the ObGyn who might post photos of himself with a "No Fat Chicks" t-shirt. Sure as the sun rises, I would not want to have him for a doctor, so if he discloses that on his MySpace (and who checks our their doctor on MySpace anyway) then this is information that helps me very much in my decision making.
Why all the paranoia about what we do online? Is this somehow worse than what we do in person? Because frankly, if there's a witness, then it's history you can't erase, whether it's stored digitally or in someone's memory. A digital record is at least typically more reliable than a memory... less open for debate, all things considered and if the data has not been manipulated or altered.
Should I be paranoid about what I do online? Heck no. What I do here I would do anywhere. Why does it matter if it's preserved in text and photos? Some of this stuff I don't want to forget. This serves as a great record of good times I've had and fun people I know. Even if I were going to be a doctor, I would not change a thing.
Don't misunderstand me to say that I think someone should act however the fuck they want in whatever company. I do believe in manners and respect and certain social standards. But that's mostly a matter of common sense. Don't swear in front of your grandparents. Don't wear low-rise jeans exposing your purple glitter thong to your office unless your boss is Hugh Hefner. Chew with your mouth closed. Say 'please' and 'thank you' when it's appropriate. Simple stuff.
But don't hide under your bed and think you've ruined your life because you were photographed holding a beer at a pub with some friends. I'm relatively sure at some point in history, at least one successful doctor has had a beer or been in a pub.
People who are paranoid and freaking out about things they've done or said online should perhaps evaluate who they are in person. Why do they feel like they have to be different where the interwebs is concerned? The best person you can be is who you ARE. Own it. No one is perfect, including you. So say 'fuck it' and have a life you enjoy and share that life with the people who matter to you.
Don't let the media's fear mongering bully you away from being yourself. No one likes it when the bully wins.
Screw you, medical-student-online-life-study-people! Quit snooping around on other people and find your own way to post drunken slack-jaw photos of yourself online. Maybe if you weren't acting all super spy online, you'd actually have drunken fun worthy of photographing!
Pfffffttttt!!!!!!!
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