I'm From the Government and I'm Here to Help

The government will take care of us in every aspect of our lives. All we have to do is give it more power (and money). Don't believe me? See for yourself. Success, everywhere you look.

The war on drugs has been fought and won. Nobody produces, sells or ingests illegal drugs in this country.

The creation of the U.S. Department of Education in the 1970's has resulted in American students leading the world in math, the sciences, the arts and every other sector worth leading.

Our borders are so secure, no one even dares to attempt a crossing without permission. Punishment would be swift and severe.

All the regulations and laws pertaining to firearms have taken weapons out of the hands of those who would use them to commit violent crimes. It's a good thing, too, because without these gun laws, our cities would be overrun with gangsters, big and small.

I just love sending my money to the IRS every year. Also, to my state franchise tax board. Why? Well, shit, if you have to ask, then you wouldn't understand. But, I'll tell you anyway. Every penny I contribute (completely voluntarily) is used with the utmost care to cover the debts of this country and to finance the completely necessary and not at all wasteful or redundant programs we all enjoy.

Can we talk about Social Security? That is one amazingly well-run program.  It's genius, I tell you. OF COURSE you can't be trusted to invest and save your own money for your golden years. Who the hell do you think you are, anyway? Give it to the government, and don't ask any questions. THEY WILL TAKE CARE OF IT FOR YOU. Ok?

The growing problem of the online trafficking of intellectual property and counterfeit goods has one solution and one solution only. More government intervention. SOPA and PIPA. Make it happen, and online piracy will be a thing of the past. This new legislation will be 100% effective, with no chance whatsoever of it being used to abuse power.




Tomorrow, we will discuss how the Berlin Wall kept evil Western elements from corrupting the desire of the East German people to live under a socialist dictatorship.

Class dismissed.

Ohhh Yeah, Baby

Really?

I'll say this for you. You've got chutzpah.  Either that or you're incredibly clueless and should have your breeding rights curtailed immediately.

All I wanted to do was take the dogs out for a few minutes and let them take care of business, then hurry home and eat something. See, I've been working a lot lately and reaching the point of exhaustion, so I let myself sleep in a little.  I got up so late, I didn't have time for a real meal before my tap class. Then I shuffle ball changed, flapped and time stepped my little heart out for a couple of hours. And now I'm sweaty and starving. But, when the dogs gotta go, they gotta go, so here I am.

I don't even know why I'm explaining myself. There is no possible way for you to hear me.

Because there you are, sitting in your stupid tricked-out SUV, blasting something that out here sounds like the bombing of Sarajevo. And my dogs are so freaked out by your seismic booms that their little anuses have clenched up. You know what that means? As soon as we get home and they feel safe again, they will unleash their malodorous gems all over my carpet.

I have no problem giving you the stinkeye. Only, every time I look at you, you hit me with what you clearly consider your most irresistible sexy face.

Yeah.

Rest assured, the only thing you arouse in me is my fight or flight response. And maybe the need to lie down, because your assault on my eardrums has given rise to a budding migraine.

Thanks a lot, dumbass.

You Are a Dumbass

"Mano a mano" does not mean "man to man". Please do a bit of self-educating before you go butchering a foreign language.

I suppose next you'll be using the term "manual" to describe something pertaining to man.

Dumbass.

Taking It To The Streets

First of all, a three day fast is not a hunger strike. It's a quick weight loss technique.

Secondly, let's suspend all critical thought for a moment and say that you have a good point. Do you think that intentionally closing the already stuffed-to-the-gills streets of Los Angeles, and adding hours to the abysmal commute most people endure, is going to win you support from anyone who doesn't already share your dimwitted world view?

Dumbass.

P.S. Apparently the streets no longer belong to the public. They have been annexed by the bufoons we hire to run our municipalities. Most notably, this jack-off.

You Just Keep Me Hanging On

If I had a wish for today... It would be that the damn period button on your phone... Would stop working... Because every time you text me... I'm left with this uneasy feeling... That there is more to come... And I can't get on with my day... Because you're trying to communicate ... But somehow it takes 132 separate messages... and an unholy amount of ellipses... for you to clog up my phone memory... to say nothing of stealing my time... and say absolutely nothing... at... all... and the fact... that you are a college graduate... does not... in the least...  make you appear any less of a ... DUMBASS


PS... I luv u... ur my homegurrl... hv a gr8 day... l8er

Yadda Yadda

So, when your mouth opens to speak, does it consult with your brain first? Or do words spill out of their own accord, randomly selected from the bubbling cauldron of cliches you carry around in your head?

"It is what it is."

Really? I thought it was something it was not.

I can't thank you enough for setting me straight.

Peek a Boo, I See You!

Good morni-

Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you were busy. Talking to the grocery bagger in a foreign tongue. While you are scanning the items I am purchasing.

Could I trouble you for an instant? Just some eye contact, perhaps an acknowledgment that we are standing in front of one another, engaging in a moment of human interaction?

No?

Ok. Maybe when you are done laughing hysterically at whatever it was your co-worker just said to you. I'll wait, I don't mind. I've already taken out my wallet. My keys and sunglasses are right here on the little shelf in front of me, so... I'll just look around at the display. Or something.

This is not in the least bit awkward.

And now you've tallied my last item. I'm pretty sure I know what comes next.

Only, it's not happening.

Really, all you have to do is touch the button that produces the total amount I owe you. It's not all that difficult, nor time consuming. But, I can see that all your attention is focused on the riveting story you are regaling your colleague with. Wish I could understand it. I like to laugh, too.

By some happenstance (divine intervention?) your finger brushes up against the keypad, and the total for my purchases appears on the screen. Only, I can't see the numbers from this angle. Maybe if I crane my neck and lean over a bit.

You know what? How about I just hand you this twenty, and you give me back whatever you think is fair.  I mean, what's this world come to if we can't trust each other with a few dollars, right?

I said I'll hand you this twenty. Come on, lady, work with me here, I can't do this thing alone.  Here, I'll wave my hand around and hope against hope that you'll see my money out of the corner of your eye.

I am using up reserves of patience I didn't know I had.

I add an "excuse me" to my efforts.

I do have to give you props. Because you can take the twenty, make change and pile the mountain of bills, coins and receipt, into the palm of my hand, without a hitch in the flow of your conversation.

"Thank you," I say.  If only one of us is allowed good manners in this scenario, I'll gladly volunteer myself.

Como se dice "Dumbass" en espanol?

I'm Vewy Fwightened

 

 

Friday is landscaping day in my condo complex. It takes the guys pretty much all day to accomplish the task, because there is a lot of ground to cover. First, they ride around on their mowers, then they trim the edges and finally, they clean up the clumps of cut grass that end up on the walkways. The place looks like freaking Shangri-La. They do a fabulous job.

During our poop-and-pee extravaganza this morning, we came across a section of walkway that had a higher than usual concentration of grass clumps on it. I felt a tugging at the end of Dolce's leash and turned to see if she was doing anything I would need to clean up. Nope, she was simply rooted in place.

Now, the thing you have to know about Dolce is that I have yet to plumb the full depths of her neuroses. Seriously, this dog is weird. 

She actually belongs to my niece and was named after the design team of Dolce and Gabbana. Dolce came into our lives right around the time my niece discovered fashion, Paris Hilton and The Simple Life. She was certain, right from the start, that the dog simply must be called Dolce.  No other name would do. I know. My entire family is somewhat touched in the head. What can I say? We're a small and nutty, yet lovable, bunch. Kind of like Grape-Nuts. I guess. Hell, we're all we've got. What do you want me to do?

Anyway, it turned out that my sister (niece's mom) had taken on more dogs than she could handle, and Dolce had to go.  I agreed to be her foster mommy until my niece was old enough to be able to take her back. This means that for the last three years, I've had to manufacture a weak giggle every time someone said to me, "Oh, your dog's name is Dolce? What's the other one called, Gabbana? Hahahaha." Oh my, you are clever! And so very original!

And now, back to our program.

So, I pulled gently on Dolce's leash to let her know it was time to move on. She responded by sitting down. "Come on, baby. Let's go." She put her paw on the leash. She was clearly trying to tell me something. I did a quick mental inventory. No abandoned mine shafts in the neighborhood.  Pretty sure no bombs planted nearby. What could it be?

I finally made the connection. She was afraid of the grass on the walkway. I tried reasoning with her.

"Dolce, it's just grass. You walk on it every day. You pee on it. You even do that thing where you try to cover your pee by scraping your back legs on the grass."

She either didn't understand what I was saying, or was unconvinced by my argument.

I tried the take-charge approach.

"Come on, let's go." I turned and walked purposefully. The leash strained and Dolce remained where she was. I looked back at her. She gave me one of these:

By this time, Miles was losing his patience. He put the full force of his 8 pound body into pulling us along. Something had to be done.

Since I didn't have a coat I could gallantly lay on the ground before her, I took the only other option available to me. I carried Dolce. For the entire remainder of our "walk".

Dolce : 1
Mustard : Total Dumbass

Annoyance of the Day

When I can't find the end of the toilet paper roll in a public bathroom, and I just sit there and impotently roll it around 83 times like a dumbass.