What I’m Thankful For: Random Rant Style

In the spirit of the season and the recent Thanksgiving holiday, here is a list of things I am thankful for. Well I guess it’s not really in the true spirit but rather a symbolic reading of the holiday, as a literal interpretation of Thanksgiving would involve the systematic mass murder of an indigenous people, distribution of disease riddled blankets, and the illegal seizure of land. Worthwhile endeavors all, but sadly my plate is currently full. Although a choice few may luck out and receive those “special” blankets for Christmas. Enough dithering, on to the list…

1. Free Speech. Without which my head would most definitely have imploded long ago.

2. My mother. Without whose unpredictable mood swings and superhuman ability to guilt trip even the most cherubic of souls, I would not have developed my sarcastic super powers.

3. Babysitting charges everywhere for rendering the use of contraceptives completely unnecessary.

4. Foreign Countries. Without the hours I spend daydreaming of escape to your shores, I would have succumbed to deep and irreversible depression.

5. Inept coworkers. Without whose spirited, yet dimwitted conversations I would surely fall asleep at my desk.

6. Parents, who despite knowing full well the obvious negative repercussions that await the children, persist in naming their offspring things that condemn them to the following prescribed lives/traits: (*note all the names come from actual people I interact with daily)

Vibe: stripper

Ebony: but she a white girl

Franco: what other choice does he have but to be a douche

Gertrude:  destined to be a librarian or homely recluse

Spencer: gay or repressed passive aggressive

Princess: seriously?

7. The Grammatically Challenged. Your inability to differentiate between the correct usages of the following have served as endless entertainment for me.

your vs. you’re

their vs. there

its vs. it’s

too vs. to

a lot vs. alot (hint: alot is not actually a word)

8. The cast of Jersey Shore, whose continued existence goes against every rational law of nature, for finally proving that God does not in fact exist.

9. Beer. For taking the edge off. Bless you.

10. Dictionaries. For continuing to persevere despite being criminally underused.

11. All the fictional literary figures who filled my childhood and continue to fill my adulthood with a much-needed pleasant escape from my reality.

12. My friends who put up with my myriad of issues, including but not limited to: volume control, obnoxious behavior, tactless nature, propensity to laugh at grossly inappropriate situations, and my inability to stop saying “homeboy” and “y’all”  despite my obvious lack of pigment and utterly unhip sensibilities.

A heartfelt thank you, merci, danke, shoukran, gracias, arigato, grazie, obrigado, spasibo to you all.

Random Rant #6

Mission Statement: When the world conspires to repeatedly accost me with individuals and situations that defy all human decency and are walking affronts to basically everyone…I feel the need to reciprocate or at the very least unburden myself by berating them, all passive-aggressive-like, through the oh-so fantabulous medium of the internet.

***

It was brought to my attention by several of you that apparently my last rant wasn’t up to snuff. I offer my humblest apologies and the following rant as penance in the hopes of winning back your allegiance as my evil minions. As an added bonus, I have finally succumbed and started a blog wherein you can subscribe to receive said rants as well as peruse past bursts of hatred and bile at your leisure. Have at it. Added feature, now you can comment, rant back, tell me how wonderful I am, etc. I leave it to your discretion.

Random Observations:

1. Do you ever get the urge to just lean forward and tap the person talking to you in the forehead? The way you would with a dim, flickering bulb, because they are just so stupid? I do. I figure it’s an attempt to improve a bad situation.

2. Did you ever notice that cars reflect the foibles and eccentric driving habits of their drivers/owners? I speak of you, man-older-than-Moses in the Lincoln Town Car putt-putting your way down the 101, and you, sanctimonious prick in the Prius. Despite what you may believe, you are no better than those of us who still drive gas guzzling vehicles and FYI your car has the ability to exceed 35mph, the gas pedal is to the right, use it. This also goes out to you, dumb chick in the convertible Beemer applying makeup. I am continually shocked that you can drive and breathe at the same time. Let’s not push our luck by multi-tasking with the makeup. And last but not least, a shout out to the white trash, mullet sporting red-neck in the raised truck littered with death metal band stickers. I simply choose to give you a wide berth. I’m not the stupid one after all.

***

Random Annoyances Coupled with Things/People I loathe:

1. The fact that commercials on your laptop play clearly, loudly and without interruption but the minute the movie or show starts you are greeted with copious amounts of “buffering”.

2. People who insist on using words, not big words mind you, just everyday ordinary words, incorrectly.

3. Actually having to endure the following exchange in a bar:
Him: “You’re pretty”
Me: “Oh. Wow. Thanks.”
Him: “Wanna make out?”
I thought this shit only happened in movies. What a gem.

4. When you’re in line at the supermarket and only have 5 items but are subjected to the bitch in front of you who has 3 million and unloads her cart like an arthritic retard and arranges each item on the belt as if it’s a picture frame on her mantle. Juuuuust so.

***

Lyrics I love: Just released single from Cake: “I’m so sick of you, I don’t want to be with you, I just want to fly away.” (Can you imagine someone dedicating this song to you?)

Lyrics I hate: Newest song released by Katy Perry: “Baby you’re a firework. Come on let your colors burst. Make them say ah, ah, ah.” (Really?! Really?! I get that she’s trying to share an inspirational message, but no. Just no.)

***

Lessons in Etiquette:
General Rules for when you insist on going out in public despite being a Neanderthal and well past your “So stupid, how am I not extinct yet date”

Car/Driving Related:

1. Picture it. A woman driving, applying makeup with one hand, talking on her cell phone with the other, with a handicapped license no less, all while trying to change lanes on the 110 interchange. This woman should be drawn and quartered. Firing squad would be too quick and painless. I’m picturing the torture scene in Braveheart or something similar.

2. As much as people would like to think of their cars as personal space where privacy rules, they need to come to the realization that they are sitting in a metal box surrounded by windows. Yes, this comment is to all of you nose-pickers. Peek-a-boo. Ya that’s right moron, windows are transparent. Stop digging for gold up there. You are in PUBLIC, this is not acceptable behavior from grown ups. Even my 1st graders knew enough to hide when they did it in class. Please also refrain from flossing your teeth while driving. I understand that gum disease is a serious issue, but there is a time and place for everything.

3. To Creepy Grinners: it is unsettling and weird to be grinned at in a lewd and inappropriate manner while driving or stuck in traffic. Please stop immediately.

4. That big yellow sign with the two arrows coming together indicates a MERGING lane, not a riddle from the sphinx. Get a move on.

Concert Related:

1. Group of Tipsy girls at the Temper Trap concert. Stop yelling before, during, and after every song. Can you even hear the band through the incessant cacophony you insist on creating? May some well-placed non-cancerous growth rob you of your ability to “Woo Hoo”.

2. PSA #5: Whether you’re the Douche to my left or the obese Fan Girl to my right, no amount of guy-liner or screaming “I wanna blow you/have your baby” is going get you on stage let alone backstage. So let’s do everyone a big fat fucking favor, Shut Up! and take a huge honking step back. Why you ask? Because Batman enjoys her personal space waaaaaaay more than having dirty sweaty horny tweens touching her unmentionable bits in public.

Miscellaneous:

1. Rule of Thumb: If your coffee takes longer to order than it does to drink, you are a douche.
2. To my new coworkers: Do NOT hover in my personal space just as I put my lunch in the microwave. Its 2 god-damn minutes of your life. Wait your turn.
3. UGGS: They are not appropriate footwear if the temperature exceeds 85 degrees and you are spitting distance from the beach.

***

On a more personal note:

• To the fates, the powers that be, Zeus, the big jujubee in the sky, I send a heartfelt thank you for my new job. But for future reference please note that you are not always required to follow up something good with something horrible to even stuff out. I get the importance of balance in the universe, yin & yang, and all that jazz, but come on! 2 root canals in a week. I’m out $2000. This shit isn’t funny anymore.

• Seeing as how everyone encourages having a positive outlook, I will consider my turning 30 not as a milestone (too grown up) but rather a Lego block, nay a Tinker Toy in my voyage nearer and nearer to death. Sounds more uplifting and child-like, no?

***

As always, if this post and all others of similar ilk are an affront to your delicate senses and you would like to be excluded from any further burst of vitriolic commentary which is to be my current chosen form of catharsis and the only reason I don’t reach back and bitch slap most people upon first meeting them, please don’t search out my blog as you must be a humorless drone.

Batman out.

Random Rant #5

Originally Posted: 10/4/2010

Mission Statement: When the world conspires to repeatedly accost me with individuals and situations that defy all human decency and are walking affronts to basically everyone…I feel the need to reciprocate or at the very least unburden myself by berating them, all passive-aggressive-like, through the oh-so fantabulous medium of the internet.

***

I don’t know if I’m getting soft or if maybe my recent induction into SOOP (Society of Old People) has had a more profound affect than anticipated on my energy level, but as of late I have found myself simply too tired (emotionally and physically) to be bothered with documenting and commenting on the bad behavior and foibles of others, however irksome they may be.

But for you devoted few, I’ll make an attempt.

A quick clarification before we start: It has recently been brought to my attention, repeatedly, by numerous individuals (friends and strangers alike), that you all think I’m mean. I posit that, these rants notwithstanding, I am often a very pleasant person. I am not mean; I am simply observant and truthful. Much like a Hippogriff (read your Harry Potter people) I am fiercely proud and only really lash out when provoked. Besides, I try to make up for my lack of tact with wit. Therefore, either stop provoking me or stop asking me questions you don’t want truthful answers to. Either way, I would thank you all to stop judging me and let me get on with berating and judging others. Thank you very much.

With no further ado, I give you Random Rant #5.

***

Miscellaneous tidbits that have annoyed me since Random Rant #4

• That particular brand of person who frequents coffee shops like Starbucks and proceeds to speak so loudly that even with headphones blasting, you are unable to drown out their obnoxious verbal diarrhea. Shut up. NO ONE cares that you just updated your Facebook status or that “like, I totally told her that she looked great but really I didn’t like her makeup”. In particular, I could’ve lived a full and happy life without knowing intimate details regarding your last bowel movement or the ins and outs of your current body ailments. I care not that the douche bag you slept with last week gave you crabs, although thanks for the heads up, I won’t be touching anything you did at the condiment counter. I vote to institute a policy against all volume-awareness-deficient people.

Side Note: Why is it that the people having the loudest conversations in a place are never having a conversation worth over hearing. You never get a group discussing a great book or movie, current political event, or awesome country/place they just visited. It’s all just useless drivel.

• Why oh why must I constantly find myself cringing in shame at the behavior of my fellow Armenians? Yes, I’m talking about you, disgusting hayastantsi girl in Malibu. Why do you insist on going out into public if you are only going to behave in the most abhorrent way possible? Miss Manners would definitely not approve of [a] your outfit (a particularly tasteless ugly patterned skirt and top, not a natural fiber to be found between the two. Neither of which covered your ample pregnant belly), [b] your posture (the way she was sitting and I use the term “sitting” very loosely, as she was slouched so far down in her seat that she was almost parallel with the floor), [c] nor your behavior (she had her finger stuffed so far into her mouth, picking her teeth, that I was gagging). Please, please, please, do me and the world a big fat fucking favor and crawl back under the rock from whence you came. And stop procreating immediately. The world is already too overrun with people of your ilk. No more I say. No more!

***

I give you the…Douche Bag of the Month

This goes out to you, “Talking on your cell phone while driving” Guy. Not a particularly original topic for a rant, I admit. However, I find it is necessary nonetheless because despite reports of rampant ticketing by police to the rank and file who still persist in texting & talking while driving, there does not seem to be a dwindling in your numbers. Rather you seem to have increased exponentially and keep cropping up all around me, hindering my attempts to drive anywhere unmolested.

PSA #4 (Public Service Announcement):  For you geniuses out there, “Hands Free” means without hands. Sans appendages. And once more for those of you who only speak simpleton: “no can holdee the phonee in your handsies”.  Furthermore, “Hands Free” does not mean, hold the phone in your hand, away from your face and speak on speakerphone. The law doesn’t say “Ear Free or Face Free”. Catch up, would ya?

***

In a loving homage to “How I Met Your Mother”, here’s a new section entitled: “Haaaaaave you met….”

Haaaaaaave you met Mortimer? But don’t call him that, he prefers Morty. Morty is my porcupine. His primary residence is hanging from my rear view mirror. He is known by some for his famous suicide attempt. One day back in the late 90’s (not a good time for Morty) he tried to fling himself out of my open driver-side window while I was driving on the freeway. Mind you, this was not a comment on my driving, but rather on his unfortunate lack of self esteem and feelings of low self worth. Luckily, I have the reflexes of a jungle cat and was able to stop him. I would like to thank Morty for his (somewhat) unwavering support and companionship over the last 19 years. Despite his unfortunate suicidal tendencies, he is a real boon to my spirit. He’s my little buddy. My car would feel empty without him. So today we raise our glasses to Morty, a finer porcupine there never was.

***

As always, if this email and all others of similar ilk are an affront to your delicate senses and you would like to be excluded from any further burst of vitriolic commentary which is to be my current chosen form of catharsis and the only reason I don’t reach back and bitch slap most people upon first meeting them, please just reply with “I bite the big one”.

Batman out.

Random Rant #4

Originally Posted: 8/8/2010

Mission Statement: When the world conspires to repeatedly accost me with individuals and situations that defy all human decency and are walking affronts to basically everyone…I feel the need to reciprocate or at the very least unburden myself by berating them, all passive-aggressive-like, through the oh-so fantabulous medium of the internet.

***

Miscellaneous thoughts and things that have annoyed me since Random Rant #3

• While admittedly not a bird lover, even I must admit to having in the past admired the pretty twittering of their song, the cool way they fly in perfect formations, and on rare occasion the gorgeous plumage of a peacock. However, as of late things have gone too far and I’m drawing the line. Birds are evil, vile creatures now on my shit list almost on par with the fluffy tailed vermin known as squirrels. As someone who has been shat on, on more than one oh-so-pleasant occasion, I can attest that it has no positive effect whatsoever on your luck as mine has remained decidedly flat-lined. In addition, the cracked-out bird of summers past has returned much to my chagrin and has once again taken up residence outside my bedroom window. It commences its incessant “Bbbbrrrrrrrring Bbbbbbbbbrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeng”-ing cacophony at the most excellent hour of 2 or 3 am and does not desist until after 10am making any kind of slumber quite impossible. If I had a shotgun I would fill it with buckshot and go postal on the fluffy feathered demon spawn. Bonus: despite its eardrum exploding range, it can be amazingly ninja-like when I attempt to pinpoint its exact location in the tree in order to throw any and all heavy objects that might be handy at the time.
• How about a shout out to all the crazies? Not the garden variety, “I don’t realize I’m insane” kooks I run into fairly frequently, but rather the “I’m completely aware of my unhinged and unbalanced nature and have embraced it whole heartedly” variety. I tip my hat to you, my friends. Well done. Well done indeed.
• To the month of July I say, good riddance and if it weren’t for some close friends whose birthdays reside within your confines I would say I hope you never return.
• To August, I want to say thanks for coming and offer a warning. Just when all hope was almost lost you came through. You are the king of months. In addition to being the only true summer month (you remain blissfully uncluttered by useless holidays and their unavoidable obligations and requisite traffic), you bring me my birthday, you house the KCRW Summer Pledge Drive (which may not sound like much, but I quite enjoy it), and this year you offer the only thing I truly wanted for my birthday. The best gift of all…an honest to goodness job interview. Now is your chance to make up for the fiasco that was August 2008, when you blew out both my dog’s knees and informed me that I did not in fact get the UCLA job all on my 28^th birthday. I’m still pissed at you for that. This is your shot, don’t choke or I may disown you and start referring to you as “July the remix”. And not a good remix either. One of those shitty trans/house remixes that just takes the most memorable line of a great song and plunks it down amid an endless stream of repetitive beats until you want to cut your ears off using a dull scissor.

***

Here’s a new section I like to call “Things and People I Hate”:

1.      When the rudest person attempts to “teach” you manners. Akin to when the dumbest person in a room attempts to correct your grammar.

2.      People who make the “45 minute lane change or right turn”. If I have time to read Infinite Jest cover to cover twice before your car has completed its maneuver you’re taking too damn long.

3.      Incompetent people of any kind. If you can’t remember your name let alone my order, waiting tables is just not for you; if you can’t count past your fingers, don’t work in a bank, etc, ad nauseum.

4.      Zealots of all stripes, particularly those of a religious variety. If I thought an old bearded white man was the omnipotent creator and ruler of my world, I would have been a Dead-Head. Stop trying to convert me, I’m liable to forget my manners and hurt you in some sadistic fashion. And in case you were wondering, I consider this fair and ample warning.

5.      Negative people. Debbie Downers. People who only complain. But I won’t linger here, lest you label me a hypocrite.

6.      Passive-Aggressive types. If you’re mad at me for being insensitive about something that happened to you this week, don’t get mad at me three weeks from now for eating the last choreg. Homey don’t play that.

7.      Technology. But only because it apparently hates me. I frequently am made to believe that there must be some sort of jamming-signal implanted in my head somewhere that makes any and all technology freak out around me. My cousin can attest to this, having had to “fix” my cell phones on more occasions that would seem humanely possible. I sorry. (In case you’re wondering, I think it is the same beacon that attracts any and all losers and weirdos to talk to me in bars).

8.      The words “puss” because it just grosses me out, “volumptuous” because it just means fat, and “obligatory” because I don’t like being forced into things.

9.      Having one item to purchase when the only cashier working can’t tell his/her ass from the register and you’re stuck behind someone with coupons/mental problems/sloth-like reflexes.

10.  Service Fees: Ticketmaster is basically satan. I can’t make up my mind if the term “convenience charge” is just the dumbest misnomer of all time or the most brilliant “fuck you” a company has every come up with. And you can take your “facilities fee” and shove it.

In a rare fit of positivity I give you 5 things I love…

a.       My friends.

b.      Travel.

c.       The word “idiot” because its just so damn satisfying to say.

d.      My niece. Because in her smile, eyes, and rolls of pudgy goodness I see hope for a better tomorrow.

e.       Okay, so I could only come up with four but at least I tried. See I’m growing.

***

As always, if this post and all others of similar ilk are an affront to your delicate senses and you would like to be excluded from any further burst of vitriolic commentary which is to be my current chosen form of catharsis and the only reason I don’t reach back and bitch slap most people upon first meeting them, please just reply with “I am a humorless drone”.

Batman out.

Random Rant #3

Originally Posted: 6/25/2010

Mission Statement: When the world conspires to repeatedly accost me with individuals and situations that defy all human decency and are walking affronts to basically everyone…I feel the need to reciprocate or at the very least unburden myself by berating them, all passive-aggressive-like, through the oh-so fantabulous medium of the internet.

With that I give you, Random Rant #3

Things that have annoyed me since writing Random Rant #2

1.      Insect & all insect-like creatures and I have never been on great terms, although there was a short lived morbid fascination with Venus Flytraps back in 3^rd grade. So I do not appreciate when people laugh and consider it unlike me, when I jump up and frantically try to remove an offending spider from my person. I think it is completely acceptable, when accosted by a spider, to remove it by any means necessary.

2.      If my dad asks me one more time, how to check the voicemails on his cellphone I may very well commit patricide.

3.      PSA #1: Public Service Announcement to all LA Females: Just because you live in LA does not automatically guarantee that the weather will always be a consistent and comfortable 75 degrees, especially after dark. If you choose to attend events that take place outdoors and also choose to dress like the whore that you are, DO NOT complain that you are cold.

4.      PSA#2 to all LA Females: When out in public, be it at a concert, bar, or simply walking down the sidewalk, learn to control your alcohol intake. I recently witnessed a drunk, belligerent, blonde female fall behind my bar stool. In an uncharacteristic act of kindness, I leaned over and extended my hand to help her up. She not only did not take my proffered hand but attempted rather unsuccessfully to stand up on her on. In doing so her left boob rebelliously fought free of the synthetic, too tight, hideous top it was sausage-like encased in and exposed itself. While no prude, I immediately felt the need to look away from the unfolding train wreck. This is not something I want to see. And before the guys reading this disagree because it was after all a free peepshow, I must add that I observed several guys around us also look away since she was such a disaster zone. Side note: it took her several moments to even realize, in her drunken stupor that her boob was partying it up outside her blouse.

5.      PSA #3: Public Service Announcement to all LA Males: When approaching women in a bar, have a better game plan than to walk up and do any of the following:

a.       Stare

b.      Proceed to insult or put down the woman you’re chatting up

c.       Announce that you are in a band

(FYI: None of these will work)

6.      I am increasingly peeved by the sheer number of imbeciles who are employed and are pulling in obscene amounts of money but yet can’t seem to perform any kind of useful task without passing out because they forgot to breath (being unable to sustain carrying out more than one function at any time). If you can’t spell…how in god did you become a surgeon? If you cannot follow simple instructions like: print your name in the boxes provided and then bubble in the corresponding letter underneath, do not even bother showing up for the testing phase of a city job and DEFINITELY do not turn to another job applicant seated next to you (namely, me) and ask them to help you.

Random Sightings

Sighting 1: While stuck in traffic on the way to the Hollywood Bowl to see my inappropriate older man crush, Sting, in concert, I witnessed a taxi that had a live, African Grey-type parrot sitting atop the taxi meter with the windows open. Is it just me, or don’t most people prefer their taxi rides to be bird feces free? Isn’t this some kind of health code violation?

Sighting 2: The crypt keeper driving maddeningly slowly on the 134 East last Wednesday. I am so tired of screaming myself hoarse in frustration when stuck in a lane behind the world’s slowest driver only to discover upon passing them that they are older than god himself and subsequently feeling guilty for having been mean (albeit mean in the privacy of my own car where they didn’t hear me, but still).

Bucket List

Upon the epic (well, epic to me) occasion of my turning 30 in August (who would have even thought I’d make it to thirty considering my propensity to “poke the bear”) … I have decided to start my very own bucket list. Here it is for your amusement:

1.      Get a real job. While I realize this is much more pragmatic than most bucket list items tend to be, my current employment situation is beginning to border on absurd. With all due respect to my current employer and while I appreciate the measly amount I laughingly call a paycheck, being told that I need to sit in an all but empty building (to which I must bring my OWN laptop since there is no functioning computer) and stare blankly at 4 grey walls for any amount of time, is a serious waste of what I humbly consider to be my few talents.

2.      Move out of my parents’ house. Simply put, living with one’s parents after a certain age borders not only on pathetic but also “cruel and unusual punishment”.

3.      Be in possession of a checking account with a balance exceeding $800. If you need further explanation at this point, you should seriously consider quietly removing yourself from this mailing list.

4.      Travel more. Considering what an epic disaster zone the US is both politically and environmentally…

a. Go to Ireland. Drink a Guinness at the Guinness Factory in Dublin. It tastes like chocolate and coffee. ‘Nuff said. Oh and kiss   the Blarney Stone.  While it sounds slightly unhygienic, I’m game.

b. Along the same line, go on safari in Africa, watch football matches throughout South America, eat Indian food in India, walk on a glacier in New Zealand, finally learn to surf in Australia…there are more but in an effort to save time and space, I basically want to go everywhere.

More to come…suggestions are welcome.

As always, if these posts are an affront to your delicate senses and you would like to be excluded from any similar bursts of vitriolic commentary which is to be my chosen form of catharsis (yoga is for sissies) and the only reason I don’t reach back and bitch slap most people upon first meeting them, please just reply with “I have no taste or sense of humor”.

Batman out.

This email will self-destruct in 5 seconds. Well, no it won’t but how cool would it be if I could actually get it to do that (damage to your computers/cellphones notwithstanding)?

Random Rant #2

Originally Posted: 4/15/2010

When the world conspires to repeatedly accost me with individuals and situations that defy all human decency and are walking affronts to my “delicate” senses…I feel the need to reciprocate or at the very least unburden myself by berating them, all passive-aggressive-like, through the oh-so fantabulous medium of the internet. 

With that I give you, Random Rant #2

Concerts: I realize my first rant focused mainly on a concert-related occurrence, so I apologize for my lack of originality but apparently concerts are breeding grounds for douchebagery and what-not. Who am I to argue? I merely comment on what I have experienced.

So, on with it. Last night a friend and I were lucky enough to take in a Vampire Weekend concert at the Fox Theater in Pomona. Amazing show! Really great! But wow, where to start.

(a) It is neither normal nor acceptable that when doors opened at 8pm, there still be a line wrapped around the block (approximate wait time 1 hour) of people waiting to get into the venue at 9pm. We realized 1/2 an hour into our wait, that as people 21+ we could have walked right in. There was absolutely no signage and even fewer helpful ushers to point this out to the clueless masses outside. We only found out because my friend stepped into one of the stores we were standing in front of while waiting in line and the guy working inside told her. Apparently the 21+ benefit has a expiration time and we were well past it at this point, but a security guard took pity on us, since we had already gotten outta line and she let us in. 

(b) Once we got to the security check we were informed that not only did we have to throw away all gum (fine, I get it, old theater, don’t want it all gross with gum stuck everywhere) but also our lip gloss. I mean come on. Lip gloss? What was I gonna do, leave lurid notes on the restroom mirrors or horror of all horrors, turn it into a projectile and pelt the lead singer? Or maybe put too much on in order to temporarily blind the security guard with the glare and then sneak backstage. It was Dior for christ sake. And the security check lady had the nerve to look at the line behind us and suggest, “Well you can always go put it in your car and then come back”. Right like I was gonna get back in that line.

(c) Joy of all joys, once inside we were confronted with yet more lines. We waited to get wristbands and then got in the 3rd line of the night for some much needed alcohol only to see that they had started passing out wristbands in the bar line as well. What a waste of 20 minutes.

(d) Alcohol purchased (we were both double fisting beers. I was not about to find a place to stand and then abandon it to get a second drink.), we set out to find a spot to stand in, preferably behind 2 short guys (I have found them to be the least problematic at concerts). Who we ended up behind was the annoying variety of chick that bounce along to any noise as if its a dance beat, complete with hair tossing, too much drinking, and taking every opportunity to squeeze themselves ever closer to the railing, people in the way be damned. Standing next to them were the gems of the evening. A couple, who can only be described as the Grand Tetons, in human form. In our defense when we got behind them, we had a great view because the male Teton (also known as the Douchebagy version of Goliath) was in the restroom, and we had no idea he existed.

The evening basically devolved into all of us (the people around us banded together to form a unified front of hate) bending, leaning, and contorting to get a view of the stage. Oh did I mention that GOLIATH was uber talkative, drunk, and constantly “apologizing” for his mother having fed him milk when he was young (because our mothers didn’t love us enough to make us grow big and tall).  He was the man of the repetitive questions because he was too drunk to remember he had just asked you the same question two seconds prior. We later learned that the girl he was with was his wife. Someone PICKED this man, for better or worse. May god grant her patience. In the end, we all agreed that venues need to designate an area for “Freakishly tall people” to keep them corralled away from the average-height folk. 

Random: In an unrelated story, to be filed under the topic of “Too weird not to mention” belongs the following:

Starbucks…yes I know. its a soul sucking corporation and we shouldn’t support it, but a girls gotta get her caffeine fix somewhere. So I’m in starbucks and a seemingly normal person is in line ahead of me. She pays with a starbucks gold card. Fancy. I only take notice when I overhear the words “Yes. That’s right. 14 pumps please”. Seriously? 14 pumps of anything available at starbucks is too many. But it continues. She then goes on to ask for 5 more pumps. This time of sugar-free cinnamon on top of the original 14 pumps of mystery flavor. All in a venti plastic cup topped only by ice and water. Disgusting right? Wait. It gets worse. She then takes her noxious concoction over to the condiment bar, grabs two handfuls of Splenda and proceeds to pour them into her beverage (and I use that term loosely, as at this point its more solid than liquid). No joke, she had at least 20 packets. By this time, both me and the barista are staring at her in utter astonishment with our mouths agape. By the time my grande americano was ready, she had moved onto packets of sweet ‘n low, sugar in the raw, and equal. There was a mountain of white powder growing atop her drink when I left. I wish I had the time to see her take her first sip. Must have been foul. But let me remind you that she specified that she wanted 5 pumps of “SUGAR-FREE” cinnamon. I mean really? Who are you kidding at this point? Now I know what you’re thinking. This isn’t annoying. Why is she ranting about it? While I acknowledge your point, I felt that this was a great example of “Weirdos I encounter on a daily basis”.

If in the future, you would like to be excluded from any similar bursts of vitriolic commentary which is to be my chosen form of catharsis (yoga is for sissies) and the only reason I don’t reach back and bitch slap most annoying people upon first meeting them, please just reply with “No Thanks”.

Batman out.

Random Rant #1

Originally Posted: 8/17/2009

Ok…my brother used to do this years ago when he was in college and created his first website. Instead of an online diary, he sublimated his rage through online rants….

As of late I’ve too often been feeling an overwhelming amount of disappointment that I cannot compel the earth to simply open up on command and swallow certain individuals due to their:

a. sheer stupidity

b. level of annoyance they cause nearby innocents

c. grotesque hygiene and or fashion disaster status

d. inherent douche-baginess, imbecility, miserableness, grossness, etc… you get the picture

e. and in certain very special instances, you come across the rare gem that is “ALL OF THE ABOVE”

So you may ask, what prompted this oh-so-rare outburst of uncharacteristic hatred, annoyance, and sheer bile towards all examples of “human” listed above…well I’ll tell you.

I went to an amazing concert last night. I FINALLY got to see Depeche Mode live in concert. Something I’ve wanted to do since the early 80′s when my older cousins prompted my infatuation with all things Depeche! Everything was great! We found amazing parking, there were no lines when we tried to go to the restroom, the weather was not too hot, not too cold, our bellies were full and we had wonderfully frosty beers in hand. All in all, the setup for the perfect concert experience. Then the concert started and the two deplorable gargoyles from hell emerged behind us as if from the ether.

The expression, I hate you with the heat of a thousand suns, was… I think…invented for these two individuals. Rude and obnoxious jerks doesn’t quite cut it.

Here’s some free advice to the couple from hell:

To the girl with the most annoying voice I’ve ever heard:

1. FYI: Shrieking at the top of your lungs is unnecessary. Especially when you do it at the beginning, middle and end of every song. Learn how to cheer properly or just shut your face.

2. Stating that “Its a concert. Lighten up.” will only irk me further and move you ever closer to the moment when I grab you by the hair and physically (and hopefully painfully) remove you from my presence.

To the guy…who can only be described as drunk beyond all recognition (at 2 minutes into the concert, which must be some sort of record):

1. Knowing EXACTLY what every song is from the first 3 opening notes does not make you the best fan in the world and all the rest of us poseurs…it does however make you a loser with nothing better to do with your time and unnecessarily aggressive towards others when you stand there and taunt your surrounding concert goers with verbal abuse.

2. FYI: I don’t think calling your favorite band “Mother Fuckers” is going to make them any more prone to listen to your song requests….which, contrary to your frequent insistance that ”you can hear me mother fuckers”, they can’t, seeing as how over 3 thousand other screaming fans stand between you and them.

3. And last but not least … Miss Manners recommends that when you spill almost an entire beer on the person in front of you…it is not enough to just stare stupidly at them and then mumble “uh. sorry.” Get a napkin douch bag!

Despite the above, I did in fact have a blast.

I just thought I’d share my random rant with you all. If in the future, you would like to be excluded from any similar bursts of vitriolic humor which are to be my new chosen form of catharsis (yoga is for sissies) and the only reason I don’t reach back and bitch slap most annoying people upon first meeting them, please just reply with “No Thanks”.

Batman out.