He Ate Us

I’d love to discuss the man, the master, Hannibal Lecter but this is actually a sorry attempt at a title. Folks this is it, my official “hiatus”. I’ve toyed with the idea for a while now and decided last week that it’d be for the better. I can’t say exactly how long this will last because I don’t know.

While I don’t exactly have This to look forward to, I still need this break and I guess I can think of it as a preview for retirement because we all know what’s about to go down in 2007.

Thanks for all the love so far and as I mentioned before, I’ll still be around reading everyone else’s Jones (stealing ideas).

Holla atchya boy.

Note: Tuesdays are always good to take hiatuses and Wednesdays are even better to say, “I’m kidding”. Seriously though, I can’t wait to come back and talk some shit. Jam Of the moment (appropriately): Method Man “Break Ups 2 Make Ups”

Things That Go Bump in the Night

As always, the weekend was uneventful (again, that’s not a bad thing). Friday night was better than Saturday and we all know that any day is better than Sunday.

I’ve always been highly irritated by people who go to public places and then have issues when strangers bump into them, brush by them or inadvertantly have any sort of contact. You fucking idiots. Stay your ass home if you’re one of those people. What do you think will happen in a place where decent sized crowds congregate?

Of course I’m writing from a bystander point of view, I only SEE people bumping into other people, and never do it myself. This never happens to me because I was blessed with the agility of a frigid fox. I’m just saying... I’ve had this observation and seen so many instances of what I consider unreasonable reactions. One might ask, what is an unreasonable reaction? Well …

1) Certainly, if you react with anything physical such as a ‘push’ back, you’ve just reacted unreasonably.
2) When you interrupt your conversation and turn to give the person a dirty look, you’ve just reacted unreasonably.
3) When you give the your ‘apology/ insincere hand wave’ not accepted look, you’ve just reacted unreasonably.
4) When you ‘brush off’ the area where someone made contact, you’ve just reacted unreasonably.
5) When you use the dew from your glass to ‘wash away’ the contact area, you’ve just reacted unreasonably.

I’ve seen several of these reactions and have always been tempted to intervene by saying something (alright, I'll admit - any intervention would definitely up the night's entertainment value). I’m going to have to be frank here, and say that most these reactions I’ve seen have come from women. Ladies, what’s going on? Why is this an issue for you? You’re dishing out more attitudes than you can handle (as always) and NO, time of the month is not a fucking excuse to be rude.

Clearly, should one chose to return the favor by reacting to your unreasonable reaction and being mean … they could. I’ve taken the liberty to come up with some lines for those who don’t like to let things go and get offended by any of the unreasonable reactions mentioned above. Feel free to use them (I never will because remember, I have the agility of a frigid fox):

“Oh, I’m sorry – you take up so much space that I don’t see how it’s possible not to bump into you.”

“Oh sorry, you looked kinda good from behind, but then I saw your face.”

“Oh, my apologies … I just wanted to make sure you weren’t a Halloween prop.”

This weekend, I witnessed what I consider the best and most reasonable reaction to the “things that go bump in the night”. This comes to us courtesy of Erin. It was late in the night/ early in the morning, the crowds were simultaneously pouring out in masses. People were bumping into each other everywhere (but not me) and sure enough, Erin was bumped into by some random. This is how it went down:

The guy turned around and apologized (as most normal people would do) as he continued walking on his way. Instead of reacting unreasonably, Erin coolly quipped, “It’s okay, I liked it.”
Of course, the guy had to stop, turn around and come back thinking she was dead serious. This was great comedy at that time of the night. The award for classiest (or funniest) response to something that goes bump in the night goes to Erin.

Which brings us to what I call damage control and I’ve got to make a short mention of those several damage control techniques.

We’ve all seen the raising of the hand, as an (insincere) apology, but my recommendation is that you do it anyways … just to be nice. There’s also the verbal “I’m sorry” or “excuse me”, which frankly (notice how I’m being very frank today), most people don’t deserve. My personal favorite is the sideways shuffle. Forget the whole part about these people being aloof shit-holes who are opposed to the idea of contact, just turn sideways and risk a sexual misinterpretation of the whole thing. Go ahead; rub your shit on their shit.

Last but not least, no discussion about “things that go bump in the night” would be complete without discussing The Skeleton Key. I did see the movie this weekend and I hereby reserve any discussion about it because I can’t intelligently do so without giving it away. I’ve learned my lesson after hearing it from sense-of-humorless Harry Potter fanatics. Speaking of, can someone tell me what REALLY happened in that damn book? I need it for conversation starters.

Note: I’ve decided that I need to go on a hiatus from blogging for a little while, maybe I’ll move to Bahrain and buy an island, the isle of molestaboyé, to be more specific (remember, it’s Monday). But seriously, more on the subject in this week’s posts. Jam of the moment Edward Shearmur “Death Letter. ”

Egotestical

I have HUUUGE balls.

Sorry, I kid (not really, I mean, I kid in the sense that this will not really be the subject of today’s post – I’ve been thinking about writing a post called “egotestical” and I’ve always pictured that to be my opening line).

So, the post is really about a fantasy. It’s my kink, if you will. I’ve discussed this with many friends before and they think I’m nuts (same friends who meet their dads at STD check ups, get taken by internet sluts and buy those damn kiddie balls) so it’s understandable when I say that most of what they throw at me doesn’t really phase me.

Modern science, technology and medicine are all wondrous things, no? Without really getting into a sticky discussion over creationism vs. evolution, I want to mention that I think the past 100 years have been good to humans, but we haven’t really taken advantage of anything apart from what I consider ‘minor’ things that could be classified as ‘basic survival’ (i.e. healing our jones when we get sick).

I always immerse myself into quasi-futuristic scenarios of how we, as a species could accomplish more. Granted that most governments place some serious restriction on experimental stuff, I think it’s important to experiment. Otherwise, things get boring.

My kink is that I basically think our bones are useless, in the bluntest form of the statement. I would love the opportunity to replace every single bone in my body with a more kick-ass piece of titanium. Weird, You say? Yeah, I’ve accepted that fact, and still stand by my fantasy. I am of course talking about every single bone, including our three smallest, the hammer, the anvil, and the stirrup (why do we need bones in our ears in the first place?!?)

Come to think of it, I feel this is a very do-able thing. A lot of people get bones replaced with metal after some irreconcilable fractures, so why not just do-away with that crap in the first place? I've yet decide which I think would be a more complicated procedure. Is it replacing the pelvic bone? The rib cage? or the skull? I'm thinking skull so far.

Let me just say that I’m not a sci-fi person, or a comic book “geek” so attributing this to the aforementioned wouldn’t really make sense. Shit, I haven’t even seen the ‘Spiderman’ movies, because they don’t really strike me as ‘cool.’ I did enjoy X-Men. Naturally, one would think that my opinion has something to do with a liking to the Wolverine character, it doesn’t. I think titanium might actually be cooler than that fictional adamantium shit.

I’m struggling to understand (and therefore explain) the reasoning behind this. I just know I’m personally convinced, and probably need to work on how to word it so that others would be convinced. Or, I could just wait until everyone sees my new titanium skeleton and start wanting one of their own.

Is this another ego thing? Do I subconsciously want to be a super human, indestructible robot thing? Possibly, who knows, it’d be cool for a day or so. Just picture that, I can go anywhere in this world (that would give me a fucking VISA) and no one would be able to break my bones. They’ll try all right, but they won’t succeed.

Side note: I remembered all this when I recently downloaded a song that I really liked from a few years back. I saw the video for this song and was blown away; it’s called “Rabbit in your headlights” by U.N.K.L.E. (a collaboration between DJ shadow and Thom Yorke from Radiohead). To this day, this music video is probably one of the coolest videos I have ever seen. (If you listen closely enough, you’ll catch some craziness from “Jacob’s Ladder”).

The video isn’t the main reason for me wanting to disown my own bones (it’s a Thursday morning, and disowning things is ALWAYS acceptable on Thursday mornings, in fact, it’s encouraged). It actually has nothing to do with it; the song (and video) is much deeper and deals with (I presume) a mental comeback, nothing physical per se.

Anyone up for this? Just think of all the fun you could have walking through a metal detector. You’re at least guaranteed a scenario where you have to do a fully nude walk-through. Besides, clothes are like bones … painfully dispensable. Just wanted to share.

A big thank you goes out to Southerngirl and Mybrid. My guest posters this week did a great job on holding down the fort at Culture Shock. Your posts were great and gave me a good kick (and about 30-60 minutes of extra sleep on both days). When that one day comes, when neither of you feel like writing, I’ll repay the favor (or you could make bets with me and TRY to win, but I usually prefer to put some dollars at stake … and I never lose bets).

Note: First, I think I should get some points for talking about BONES, skeletons and not throwing out a plug for THE SKELETON KEY’, in theatres tomorrow, Friday the 12th. Tomorrow, I will be tackling the (really tough) task bestowed upon me by the zombieslayer. 3? ONLY three? That’s arguably unfair, but I think I can bang it out. I already have 2 in mind. Stay tuned. Jam of the moment: U.N.K.L.E. “Rabbit In Your Headlights.”

Legal Alien: A post by Mybrid

A post by Mybrid.

Question # 86: Name one benefit of being a citizen of the United States.
Answer # 86: Obtain federal government jobs...

Well, what better reason than that to apply for U.S. citizenship. So as I sat this morning in the trailer across a government agency building, bored to tears, and decided it was a perfect time to connect with my dial-up connection to U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services and figure out what miracles I need to perform in order to become a U.S. Citizen.

I e-filed the I-90 last week, to request a new Green Card since mine expires next week. This morning I downloaded the N-400 (N stands for Naturalization, and the I stands for Immigration). Sixteen pages later, plus a hundred sample questions from a citizenship exam, and I'm ready to spend my day filling in questions about myself that I had never really taken the time to give it second thought until today.

Within a couple of minutes I reached my first hurdle. There's a biometrics fee - $70 if you file the I-90. Strangely enough, there's a biometrics fee ($70) if you file in the N-400. So I think to myself, "Alright, it's fingerprints. It's electronic. It's with the USCIS agency. Do I really need to pay twice???" So I called them up. Care to guess what the Capitalistic government of the U.S.A. answered me? Yeah, no surprise there. Just a huge amount of frustration when I'm being treated like an idiot - "Well, of course you have to pay it twice. It's a different file!" I really wanted to answer her back with, "Well, no wonder your government is all screwed up, if they cannot keep one set of fingerprints for each terrorist in your database!" But I didn't want to be stripped off my citizenship before I even got it. So I kept my mouth shut.

Back to my N-400 form. Part 5.C. Weight: Hmmmm....okay, do I exaggarate to the top or to the bottom. Will I add 10lb or lose 10lb by the time the immigration officer sees me? Minor hurdle, I erred on the side of low. It's easier to explain gaining weight.

Part 5.G. Eye Color: Alright, what are my options? Brown - no; Blue - Yeah, I think so; Green - no ; Hazel - ok, what's this in Hebrew? ; Gray - is that a color?; Black - no ; Pink - ??!!! ; Maroon - ! ; Other - "I'm blind can't you see."

Part 7.A. How many total days did you spend outside of the United States during the past 5 years? You mean to tell me, that America's advanced technology hasn't reached a point where they can just look into their U.S. Customs database and at a click of a button get that information based on my departure and entry stamps? Yeah, I definitely need to get this citizenship so I can help this government develop better functioning databases.

Part 7.B. How many trips of 24 hours or more have you taken outside of the United States during the past 5 years? I would have told you if I had a passport that made sense. But for some reason, your agents keep stamping it either wrong way up or wrong side left. No matter how many times immigration officers encounter an Israeli passport, they still haven't figured out it opens from right to left. Needless to say, I have quite a few back pages stamped, a whole lot of empty in the center, and the mandatory Israeli entry stamps on the right side. Every so often someone gets smart and throws my passport in the air, and whatever page it falls on - they stamp it.

Part 7.C. List below all the trips of 24 hours or more that you have taken outside of the United States since becoming a Lawful Permanent Resident. You have GOT to be kidding me! I need to recall now all my trips spanned over two passports, in the past 10 years??? And if I forget one, will you deport me?

And now we reach the trick questions.
Part 8. Information About Your Marital History.
Part 8.G. How many times has your current spouse been married (including annulled marriages)? Umm...err....okay, 'been' as in 'before he married me'? or 'been' as in 'so far'? To be safe, I text message the question to my spouse. His reply: 1. Ok, fine - 1 it is. [Though after the third call to my spouse he declared right out, "you call me one more time with these silly questions, and you'll be writing 2 in this part!"]

Part 10.A.6. Do you have any title of nobility in any foreign country? No, but I'm dying to find out what this means for them. Do they get the red carpet treatment? Or the public flogging?

Part 10.B.8.a. Have you EVER been a member of or associated with any organization, association, fund, foundation, party, club, society, or similar group in the United States or in any other place? Well, according to all the junk mail I get I'm a member of a couple dozen associations and foundations just by default of paying $10 one time when I felt charitable. Does that count?

Part 10.B.9.c Have you EVER been a member of or in any way associated (either directly or indirectly) with: A terrorist organization? At this point I'd like to express my concern at the American government's method of finding terrorists. I'm just not too confident this will work. But hey, what the heck, I'll be a trooper and answer "no."

Part 10.B.11 Have you ever persecuted (either directly or indirectly) any person because of race, religion, national origin, membership in a particular social group, or political opinion? Now here's the thing, I didn't persecute anyone. But I definitely harrassed a couple of Israelis for holding a right-(read: wrong)-wing political view. Of course, this carries about zero relevance to your question, but I want you to know that I'm on the U.S.-side on this issue. DeSettle them all, I say.

Part 10.B.12. Between March 23, 1933 and May 8, 1945.... Okay, seriously folks, I just told you I was born decades later. You can't possibly hold me accountable for something my previous reincarnation had done. Can you?


Fun part is here:
Part 10. D. Good Moral Character. I should pass this with flying colours! Oh, sorry - colors (do I also need to learn how to spell and speak like Americans to pass this citizenship test?).

Part 10.D.22.a. Have you EVER been a habitual drunkard? Define habitual? And I'd like to report some friends who should be accused of "behaviour of unbecoming a citizen."
Part 10.D.22.b. Have you EVER been a prostitute, or procured anyone for prostitution? Bummer. The U.S. draws the line at prostitutes becoming citizens.

And now we're off to the most difficult part of this questionnaire. The Oath Requirements.
Part 10.H.35. Do you understand the full Oath of Allegiance to the United States? Yeah, yeah, get on with it.

Part 10.H.37. If the law requires it, are you willing to bear arms on behalf of the United States? WHOA! Now wait a minute. Hold on! NOW you ask me this??? Forget the other 16 pages. Stop the train, I'm getting off. This was all fun and entertaining. But this is serious shit here. You want me to do WHAT? Ummm...I have the right to maintain dual citizenship. This means I bear arms on behalf of Israel. If Congress decides to declare war against Israel, you're on your own. I'm not bearing no arms. You carry your own damn weapons.

Yup, I'll be a model citizen, I will. Just you wait.

Oh yeah, I forgot - there's still 100 questions to answer on the test. A good reason for a whole new post...

A post by Mybrid.

Living Out Loud: A post by Southerngirl

It's always interesting to find out how people perceive you. It's always so different from how you perceive yourself. I consider myself to be a bit shy and kinda humble, but when I mention this obvious fact to my friends, they fall down on the floor, hooting and laughing, with tears streaming down their cheeks. It is not that funny.

So here are some of the things I've had said to me over the years. See if you can draw a picture of me from these descriptions.

Story 1

Upon meeting my college roommate for the first time, she said: "Well, I guess you're beautiful, but in a very strange way."

Now this chick came from Oklahoma and was very strange, albeit mentally, herself. When I asked her if she had a boyfriend, she said," Yes he's studying to be a dentist."

Not wanting to show how boring that was, I replied, "Oh, a dentist. Wow."

And she replied, "Yeah, we don't have a dentist in our town. They have one on the reservation outside of town for the Indians, but not one for Real People."

I should have walked out on her right then. But my shyness and humility overrode my desire to punch her in the face, so I decided to give her another chance.

I had the propensity not to spend weekends in the dorm. My roommate did not like this propensity and would often call around trying to find me in the middle of the night, which made for very grumpy boyfriends. Often she would call early on Sunday morning to ask me if I wanted to go to church with her (Miss Not Real People was, of course, a Christian). I NEVER went to church, but she would not give up—even after I threatened to send her to heaven Real Soon if she didn't stop.

The final straw was when I came back to my dorm room one Monday morning and found she had destroyed my JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR CD because it was "the work of the devil".

I moved to a different dorm room the same day.

Story 2

I met my best friend, Deb, when we were put on the same work project—me from the computer center, her from the library. Being a state employee sucks (although the Bullshit Bingo is always good) because the state NEVER has enough money to give raises, yet you have to have an employee evaluation every year. And it being state government, the evaluation process changes every year. Well, this particular year you had to have five other state employees fill out an evaluation on you. So I gave them to five friends who I knew would only say good things. These evaluations were done anonymously and I got copies of them.

I was reading through them, admiring how wonderful I was from all the great things my friends b-sed about me and I noticed that everyone had left Question 10 blank: "What does this person need to work on to improve him/herself?" And they were right. There was No Way I could improve myself. I was exemplary. But then I got to the last evaluation and someone had written on Question 10: "Needs more patience with herself and others." !!!!!!!!!!!

I immediately went to Deb and started ranting about how could someone, someone who is supposedly a friend, say that about me, a person who has the patience of Job and Mother Theresa rolled into one. Deb calmly listened to me until I wound down and then said, "That was me. As a reference librarian, I can't leave any question blank."

Story 3

I lived in Arizona for a while and worked as a press aide for a political campaign while I was there. The guy was running for governor. He was rich and totally looney. I would get him all this great statewide press coverage and he would come into my office and bitch about how the National Press was ignoring him. Of course, bozo, you're running for Governor. Anyway, the guy ends up losing (I mean, he was a liberal in Arizona, what can I say) and when the local paper called me for a quote, I said, "Well, that's showbiz."

The candidate was not pleased with this quote, but the campaign manager (who was from DC) came into my office laughing and said, "I'm always impressed by people who have that bizarre combination of competence and goofiness."

So there you are. Got a picture of me now? I wonder if it’s the same one I have of myself.

A post by southerngirl

Kiddie Balls

It’s Monday again and Mondays (and Thursdays) mean it’s okay to take a stab at Michael Jackson. I kid (OK, maybe just one last stab), I don’t really have much to say on the man.

The weekend was rather uneventful, that’s now become my typical response after any given weekend. It doesn’t really matter what happened, the mere fact that the weekend is over … makes it uneventful. It could turn out to be the most fun and enjoyable weekend but it’ll still get a big fat ‘UNEVENTFUL’ stamp come Monday morning. Of course, there’ll have to be a distinction between ‘uneventful’ and the really bad weekends. I’ll have to think of a reference for the “bad” weekends.

Uneventful weekends make me do stupid things. You know, when everything else goes, so does your common sense. I bought another $200.00 tennis racquet. I know, how insidious of those damn sports equipment companies to take advantage of my fable willpower. FUCKING BASTARDS. (I also bought a T.O. NFL jersey ... Football season is coming up and people around here don't like T.O. too much).

The good news is that my carrying bag is now at ‘full’ capacity (4) …which means that I won’t buy any more racquets (because there’s no where to put them), unless you would want to count ‘replacing’ racquets as a technical exception to this new rule. Again, I’m no psychologist but I think the fact that there was always a free slot in the bag, weighed heavily on my mind. Who needs to restring when you’re stupid enough to buy a new racquet everyday?

I of course had to test my new racquet out, so Sunday afternoon was a good day to do so. I don’t want to jinx anything, but I love it. I was on my way to doing the nasty double bagel when “previous commitments’ interrupted the second set with me leading 2-0.

The main courts we play at had a fundraising event for sickle cell anemia. The courts we found were so much better, and they’re on top of a hill, which makes it cooler and a little breezy. The downside was that someone bought “kiddie balls” instead of buying normal balls. They’re not really for kids, they’re practice balls … oversize, really heavy, really bright balls. They suck.

Special Edition: Guest Posts

The main aim of today’s post is a solicitation.

Since I’ve had a relatively uneventful weekend, it’s time to change things up a little bit. Being someone who MUST be kept on his toes at all times (otherwise, I’d bore … and divorce or something), I can appreciate change. I’m soliciting “guest posts” all this week. PLEASE help me out. I’ll even go ahead and inflate your egos; I’ll call this “all star week.” Logistically, it’s pretty simple, since I post in the mornings, I’d just need to receive the post by the morning, 7 a.m. EST. Any takers?

Topics are of course completely up to the writer. Anything interesting, culutrally shocking or just anything that can't go untold. Length is also negotiable, but I can only suggest to whoever wishes to write, something that can be read in about 5 minutes or so (remember, MINIMIZE it).

Otherwise, depending on the (lack of) response, this might have to change to "short post week".

Note: I mentioned before that I didn’t have a DVD player (other than on my computer). I was ‘alerted’ about a THUNDERCATS DVD coming out with the entire first season's episodes. I can’t even begin to tell you how tempting this is, I can order it, and order a DVD player … they’ll BOTH get here on the same day. Jam of the moment: Gregory Isaacs - “Material Man.”

The Skeleton Keys

Can everyone bear me talking about The Skeleton Key” anymore? I might as well just write about it from here on out, until August 12th hits and I can finally fulfill my boredom by picking up a new obsession from the previews I see.

The answer is no, not even I can bear talking about this movie anymore (but I’ll still see it) and since it’s Friday, we don’t really have to talk about things we don’t want to talk about – ya heard? (One LAST thing, the old lady in the previews, with the blanked out eyes looks wicked)!

Spare me, spare you … I didn’t really plan on talking about that to close out the week. Instead, I give you something else:

Hi, I’m Nafie and I have eleven keys on my keychain. Technically, there are only four keys out of this set of 11 that I use on a daily basis. One would bring forth an argument over why I carry eleven keys if I only use four of them. The answer is simple, where else would the other seven keys go?

I don’t want to lose them as I use them (yeah, intentional rhyme … 50 ain’t got shit on me) every now and then, so it wouldn’t really make sense for me to put those keys away. I’d either a) keep them in the car, or b) keep them in my apartment both of which I’d need A key to access so why not just keep them all together in the first place, on the key chain that was made to hold the keys.

I’m one of those people who throw their keys on the table (as opposed to keeping my keys in my pocket). I hate this about myself, I think it’s such a vulgar and socially intrusive act and when OTHER people do it, I feel like telling them to take their shit and put it back in their pockets, where the sun don’t shine. I personally do it out of frustration and a need to part with my clunk of keys as fast as possible. I presume others do it for other reasons and those OTHER reasons fall under the above description.

Throwing my keys on the nearest table or countertop is just asking for disaster isn't it? It would be too easy to forget them somewhere. However, I doubt that will ever happen to me because I’ve lost my keys once and it wasn’t pleasant (technically didn’t ‘lose’ them, I locked them in the car during a serious rainstorm). Since that cursed night, I vowed never to let it happen again. What I do now is basically treat them like a bunch of kids (11), that I have to watch over 24/7, and I haven’t lost them since (see, I CAN be responsible afterall, will baby-sit for food).

Now, I’m a peaceful guy, I’ve only been in one fight my whole entire life. Of course, one fight constitutes the other person putting up a resistance and actually hitting me back. The ones where I knock ‘em down without taking any damage don’t count as full-blown ‘fights’. It’s not worth an entire post, so I’ll just summarize the story:

I don’t even remember the reason but this kid got in my face about some stupid shit. I think I was 13 or so. I was into the whole WWF thing back then, so he PUSHED me first and punched my arm. Out of self-defense (of course), I pummeled him back until he was dragging on the floor, but I was still mad and decided that I would keep going and see if I can execute some of my favorite wrestling moves.

I tried to go for Bret Hart’s Sharpshooter, but it was too tough to master and I’ve seen it being countered on too many times … so I figured I’d go for Razor Ramon’s much simpler Razor’s Edge or a Jackknife Powerbomb, ala Big Daddy Cool Diesel (Kevin Nash). Luckily, Mr. Nixon caught the fight and we got sent to detention. Which was probably better for me than making front-page news for breaking someone’s neck.

Point of the story? I’ve always figured that having eleven keys would be good for self-defense if I get hassled by a group of drunkards. One full swing (topspin forehand style) and someone would be getting several needles to their face. Again, I’m not a violent person, I’m just saying …

Advice: If approached by a group wanting to beat you up, focus your attention on just ONE person, the biggest most menacing person. Make an example out of him and the rest will scurry off like vermin (or tend to their friend, also like vermin).

Happy Friday.

Note: Now that I’ve quit the whole Glass Steel thing, I need to find something else to lengthen my post by a couple extra words. Still thinking about it, but for now, jam of the moment: Lucy Pearl – “I can’t stand your mother.”

Cornbread, Fish and Collard Greens

(The title is somewhat unrelated, it's a hot song though).

We all have daily routines that can be somewhat stressful at times, so the last thing anyone needs to be doing is come home and cook dinner. Remember, I am a sheep and I hate to go against the majority so I absolutely DO NOT look forward to coming home and preparing dinner.
Again, please don’t mistake my disinterest for an inability to cook, because I really think I can bang it out, most of the time (as long as it’s not a fucking cake). Which means you can go ahead and mistake my disinterest for laziness if you want … I like to think it’s for reasons more like a ‘lack of groceries’.

However, everyone knows that one has to eat. You know the drill, 3 full meals a day or “five to seven smaller ones” if you’re packing some junk in the trunk What a crock of shit – What am I? A fucking mouse? You want me to nibble on food all day?

So what do people who are disinterested in cooking everyday do to eat? One of three:

a) Eat Out.
b) Order Delivery
c) Marry a stay at home wife (OR husband, for all you high-powered career ladies out there - you see how politically correct I am? After all, Condoleeza Rice may be reading this).

Any marriage that I'm involved in over the next 5 years would be highly unlikely and probably not so sweet for the lucky lady (also, according to some, divorce is definitely in my future because I bore too easily). It’s cool, this is for an entirely separate post, but I will say that if that’s the case …I’m getting my name legally changed to Pre-nup O. Pre-nup, you know, it works both ways.

I eat out often and it’s not really fun, it requires a decent amount of planning and you end up wasting the majority of the evening because eating out is such an involved process.

I’m left with the delivery option. Delivery is cool, you can order some really fattening stuff and have it sent home to you, and so that way, you don’t even have to burn those extra calories when tying your shoelaces to go out (EVERYONE answers the door for a delivery barefooted).

Case in point, I order delivery the other day and I usually pay by plastic over the phone (because remember, I hate carrying things on me, among them is cash). Given how it’s all panned out recently, it’s probably a good thing to lay low and order some food every now and then … It’s not Delivery, it’s D-ucking from helicopters.

This particular store requires you to show the plastic magic when the driver brings your food. They perform some ghetto-bastardized version of a carbon copy (put your card under the receipt and rub it with a coin) and THEN, only then will they give you your food. Apparently this is a MUST, and every time (not too often, about 5 times, ever) I’ve ordered from here, I’ve had to show my card.

The delivery guy shows up the other day, and instinctually, I give him my card. He then goes:

"Nah man, it’s cool I remember you, I’ve been delivering to you for three years."

Really? That’s funny; I’ve only lived here for just shy of a year. Of course I didn’t tell him that, it would be stupid of me to tell him that because I’ve been a first-hand witness/ observer on what delivery drivers could do to your food if you’re an asshole.

Everyone knows that, I’d mention the details but the Internet is corrupting our kids these days … and though this is not exactly a family oriented bl…AH what the heck, Motherfuckers spit in your food, sprinkle shoe dirt on your food and an ex co-worker claims to have even urinated on someone’s food. I’m just saying …

But I digress, so this guy has had a long day, a long week, a long month, maybe even a long year … but DAMN, it’s pretty rough when you mistake five trips in the span of several months for THREE years. He could have been backhandedly telling me I’m a lazy ass motherfucker and need to start cooking more, who knows?

It happened with television, and now it’s happening with delivery … I’m on an indefinite boycott from ordering delivery. In fact, today I’ll go over to the grocery store and buy some groceries (I’ve always loved how we buy groceries at the grocery store … as opposed to other shit like car batteries and you know, handcuffs). I’m not talking canned or microwavable stuff, which would be terribly foolish since I don’t really have a microwave, I’m talking the real deal here … fresh, labor-intensive produce and meat that’s full of skin and bones.

Note: this reminds me of a co-worker, KM. We went to eat buffalo wings for lunch one day; she would take one bite from the wing, and discard it. Finally, someone asked her why she’s doing that and she told us that she absolutely CANNOT allow bones to come in contact with her teeth. Today: I think it’s time to stop this glass/steel stuff. I’ll explain sometime soon (plus the damn thing's been stuck on steel for a while).

Business or Pleasure

Just about every blog has had a post on this topic, and I’m not one to go against the majority (because I really am a sheep). The topic that ALL blogs have or will soon discuss is of course hit counters/ site tracking. It’s become somewhat of a right of passage to let the world in on your (equally entertaining) site tracker info.

First, the site tracker’s basic job is to count visits and page views on your blog (so yes, for all the COMPULSIVE people who hit ‘refresh’ a bunch of times, I see it all). Depending on the site tracking service you opt (bullshit!) to implement (bullshit!), there are extra features that I find more valuable.

For example, my site tracker allows me to view what pages referred any given visitor to my blog. This is particularly handy as sometimes people will link to you, and not let you know. It gives me a way to at the very least check out their respective blogs as well.

Another thing that I enjoy about the site tracker is the web search referrals. Ah, this is where the ULTIMATE weirdoes turn up. You basically get to see what people searched for on which search engine that eventually led them to your blog. Here are some of my favorites:

“Modasucka: welcome to America” (on google) Geez, thanks to you too modasucka.

“Home remedies for relieving inflamed pimples” (on google) – God help this person who probably had a bothersome issue, and instead of finding answers, was sent here.

“Black Women Tittie Milk” (on My Search) Ok, so this one wins the award for oddest!!!

“Recommendations for the president’s sona” (on google) Hmm, given the renewal of the big P to the A … I’m pretty sure I haven’t mentioned the “P” word on here – I was only quoting when I mentioned it just now.

“To kill wasps 1 can tuna Clorox etc” (on MSN) Damn right, I bet that would work … the TUNA to lure them and Clorox to cream them.

“Apple sand Oranges Verizon Mail” (on MSN) Not apples AND oranges, but apple SAND oranges.

The rest are somewhat obscene, which perhaps is a wake up call that I should clean up my act a little bit and become more responsible. There seems to be a lot of children on the Internet these days and maybe I should do my part in preserving the good morals of the future of the United States of America.

Most times, the site tracker will give me information on the server the accessing computer is jonesin’ at. So I will see quite a bit of corporate domain names on there (I saw apple.com as one of the domain names … I hope they read ‘Strange Fruit’ and ‘Planned Obsolescence: A pain in the ass’).

Seeing domain names is slightly entertaining. Entertainment is entertainment, site tracking is entertainment, it’s all entertainment and good fun but there come certain times when some things I see REALLY make me think, and down right worry. Everyone knows I’m paranoid and there are some things that I could do without seeing. With that said, I have a special message to send to a special someone (a ‘silent’ regular, if you will – also, note how nice I’m being to you):

I can see your domain name, it’s not comforting and as a matter of fact it’s straight up www.department-of-you-know-what.gov – Now, it would be real nice to know the answer to one simple question:

Business or Pleasure?

I regrettably sort of already know the answer, as this was also a ‘google’ referral and evidently said person knows how to spell my name (good job!)

How can I help ya? (Make that it would be real nice to know the answers to TWO simple questions).

Note: To foil them Black Helicopters, I should probably be taking a different route to work today. I hear that's good for you anyways. Today: Steel

The Garden State

(That movie sucked).

I hate talking about other drivers, but I do it so often and it’s always worth a mention when the dumbass squad does something worth mentioning. Perhaps I’ll try to make this my last post on the people who perform “The Most Dangerous Act anyone does on a regular basis.”

New Jersey drivers suck. I understand there’s some quote or saying about New Jersey drivers, I’m not familiar with it but I agree with it whatever the hell it is. I have never seen such a maniacal bunch of loons on the highway.

There seems to be this unspoken obsession with “where” certain people are from when driving on the highway. We’ve all seen it; someone will do something on the highway and everyone automatically wants to find out where they’re from. They swerve, merge, and change lanes just to catch a glimpse of the license plate. I assume some people do this because they are wondering what State was stupid enough to give said person a driver’s license, others just want a state less inferior than their own.

EVERY single time I’ve seen someone doing something STUPID on the highway, I check out the tag … and sure enough, New Jersey’s shitty yellow gradient tags.

First of all, they drive at insane speeds. I’m not even kidding you when I say that I’ve seen some Jersey folk who had to be pushing 100 (mph). That’s funny; I don’t understand what the rush is? It’s not like you got a hot state to go back home to … it’s New Jersey for fuck’s sake. I would personally want to prolong my ‘arrival’ at said state for as long as possible.

I saw a survey once that studied drivers’ IQs in a quest by my local news station to bombard me with further useless information (it makes for good blog material though). The most illiterate/ lowest IQ scoring drivers were revealed and can we all guess who our big fat #1 was? Yes, Florida … just kidding, it really was New Jersey.

Although we love Canada, and will not hereby shit-talk on them, New Jersey is to New York as Canada is to the United States. The Bastard Child if you will … New Jersey folk will go above and beyond to attract attention (usually for silly things) and establish their ‘separation’ and incomparable independence from New York (yeah, I said it).

I mentioned a ‘yo mama’ reference in a recent post, we’ve all heard them before “Yo Mama’s so fat, she jumped on a rainbow and made skittles” or “Yo Mama’s so stupid; it took her 2 hours to watch ’60 minutes’” and “Yo Mama's so ugly, when she passes by a bathroom the toilet flushes” etc.

Well, I think we should take it one step further and let our Jersey drivers in on the fun. “New Jersey drivers are so stupid; they weave back and forth between (double solid lines) lanes INSIDE Ft. Mc Henry tunnel.” or “New Jersey drivers are so fat; their feet get stuck and push the gas pedal all the way causing them to exceed speed of 100 mph.” and “New Jersey drivers are so ugly; they can’t look in their (rear view) mirrors.” And so on…

Here are a few “You might be a New Jersey driver if…”

- Under no circumstances should you leave a safe distance between you and the car in front of you, or the space will be filled in by somebody else putting you in an even more dangerous situation.

- Turn signals will give away your next move. A real New Jersey driver never uses them.

- The faster you drive through a red light, the smaller the chance you have of getting hit.

- Never, ever come to a complete stop at a stop sign. No one expects it and it will inevitably result in you being rear-ended. If you want your insurance company to pay for a new rear bumper, come to a complete stop at all stop signs.

- Real New Jersey women drivers can put on pantyhose and apply eye makeup at seventy-five miles per hour in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

- Real New Jersey men drivers can remove their girlfriend's panties and bra at seventy-five miles per hour or in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

And many more can be found here.

Much love for my Jersey crew (and Lauryn Hill) … you know I’m excluding you from the rest of your state's cohabitants throughout my tactless and gross generalization.

Note: Eventually I will compile a list of stereotypes for drivers from all the 50 states. Although, I've yet to see license plates from Hawaii, Alaska (do they even count???) and ... Arkansas. Y'all have cars out there? Today: Steel

The Waiting Room

In memoriam of EN

Waiting rooms are very boring places. It really doesn’t make that much sense for a place to have THAT many people and still be boring. Furthermore, the type of people that you come across at any given waiting room may as well get together and start a new planet; planet Freakshow. This is of course based on a terribly crude and baseless prejudgment … but it’s a Monday and that’s acceptable.

I was at a waiting room for a brief period of time, about thirty minutes or so. My car was getting some juice and so were the cars of the other 10 people waiting there.

This one guy, we’ll call him the tough guy -- homeboy was tattooed up to the T. Maybe it’s the new dukes of hazard movie coming out but confederate flags seem to be the “IN” thing these days, and sure enough he had the confederate cap to match. Everyone preoccupies their time with something. Tough guy chose to do that by flipping through an off-roading magazine.

Us stereotyping and bord folks will have nothing better to do than start playing the “fill in the blanks” game. It’s fun and it entails one filling in the blanks about a fellow waiter. For example, Tough guy drives The Truck in Service bay B.

As part of the game, I also went ahead and guessed tough guy’s name. I said Bubba or Jim but I was wrong. This is what happened while tough guy was being a bad ass in the waiting room, with his mean truck magazine:

The mechanic walked in and yelled: “Is Shannon in here?”

Tough guy stood up and walked towards the mechanic (doesn’t necessarily ‘admit’ to the name)… but it got worse for him, apparently “Shannon” was also that blonde co-ed, who simultaneously stood up and rushed for the door yelling, Yes, I’m Shannon. The look on his face was priceless. They both laughed it off and diffused the confusion when our co-ed wasn't too hot about discussing trucks.

Shannon must have free weekends on her phone (who doesn’t?) she spent the entire time she waited letting us all know her business such as the 17,000 in undergrad loans which she hasn’t consolidated by the July 1, 2005 interest hike deadline (uh oh). If there’s ever a planet Freakshow, I want shares in the telecomm company.

Shannon and ‘tough guy’ may not have shared reproductive organs but they shared a first name and that provided us with a decent break during the uneventful wait. Although it was a little more challenging to clear up, the entertainment was so 5-minutes-ago when 2 other fellow waiters shared a car make AND car color. You knew it was rough when they BOTH had to go outside and look at the license plate. If I were ever in the situation, I would have personally laid claim to the ‘nicer’ car without that scratch on the door (who wouldn’t?)

Perhaps we aren’t all strangers after all; the common bonds of androgynous first names and mass manufacturability tie us all.

There’s always “the cool guy” in every waiting room. He usually has headphones on and is seemingly the most anti-social of the entire group. Who goes into a waiting room with headphones? It’s somewhat insulting to the other people waiting in that “the cool guy” doesn’t acknowledge their existence or care about their phone conversations or what they were reading.
However, “the cool guy” is surely trickier than he seemed. Headphones on don’t necessarily mean music is on. It’s a TRAP! It’s a TRAP for all the other freak shows so that THIS cool guy can listen in on everything the fellow waiters reveal under the comfort blanket that he isn’t listening. Oh, but I was … I was listening and I have a decent memory.

Note: Also, R.I.P. John Garang. What happens now? Today: Steel.