Tuesday, March 31, 2009

I'm Doing It For The Kids

Smoking cigarettes has become very politically un-correct. I smoke cigarettes at times. Mostly when I am drinking, but at times out of boredom. Today, I was at the bus stop. While waiting for the bus, one other person was waiting on the bench. I was smoking a cigarette. I purposely sat approximately 5 feet away on a cement wall near the bus stop from the other person, so as not to get my nasty habit smell on them. They then got up, moved another 5 feet away, and shot a disparaging look at me. Ironically, they were listening to their ipod. Isn't that the international sign for ignore me? It was not an enclosed area, nor was I intentionally in their space. Yet, I was offended, as apparently was he.

I know smoking is bad. I know it causes and adds to many diseases. But if I didn't smoke, who would help the children? Tobacco taxes solely go to education and soon, children's health care. I have no children at home. I pay cash for my children's continued education. I don't smoke around children.

I do, however, have to send out a big FUCK YOU to all those people who have given me dirty looks whilst I smoke in places reserved for smokers (as lonely as they may be), or in open spaces. The bus stop placed precariously on the public city sidewalk. How dare they!

I know it's not enough that taking public transportation is a benefit to our society, go green. But now I am chastised for helping our youth?! I have a mind to just give it up. Let you parents foot the bill. Let these progeny become the acorn that doesn't fall far from the unappreciative tree.

To all those with children, against those who smoke...I challenge you to a duel. Let the best retard win, then run our country!

Monday, March 30, 2009


Oh Nadya Suleman, what goes through that sick selfish mind of yours? I was trying my best to look the other way when I saw your ascitic looking belly on TV before you bore those eight babies. I was really hoping you just had some nachos hiding in there, like on the Taco Bell commercial. But no, you had those embryos implanted. Six children was not enough? Charles Darwin must be turning in his grave.

The basic theory of evolution is to get one's genes into the next generation. Natural selection, in a nutshell, is a process causing heritable traits that are helpful for survival and reproduction to become more common in a population, and harmful traits to become more rare. This occurs because individuals with advantageous traits are more likely to reproduce, so that more individuals in the next generation inherit these traits. Ms. Suleman, your traits are not advantageous. You are scary. There is a reason you needed all in vitro pregnancies...no one wanted your genes to be passed on. It seems not even your own mother.

I am not sure how this woman financially provides for her children. Maybe she is still stripping on the side. I know many men who are hot for a stripper whose uterus hangs out between their legs, especially when she is an Angelina Jolie wannabe. The tips should just roll in for that freak show.

I recently read (albeit in a tabloid, so I'm not sure how valid the source) that she has moved into a house, 2500 square feet to be exact, at a cost of a mere $564,900. The house is in La Habra, California, located in the northwestern corner of the OC (tell those crazy Cohens I said hey). The cribs, mattresses, and bedding for these new octuplets only cost $12,000. The saddest part of the furniture and accessory situation is that the poor little creatures will have to double up. I know when I was growing up sharing a room with my sister, I was just glad we didn't have to share a bed. That would have just been embarrassing.

A toast to you Ms. Suleman. May the road rise to meet your sagging uterus. May the wind be stong enough to push it back where it belongs.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Plan B

The Pro-Choice agenda is very near and dear to my heart. For those who may be against abortion or birth control, the operative word in the first sentence is choice. Not everyone is ready to have children. See Did They Think I'd Have To Go To High School.

I have two adult children who are also very near and dear to my heart (I know, I know, I don't look old enough to have two adult children...you're sweet). Yet, I taught them they have choices. Now, all sexually active women have a choice if they think they may have an unwanted pregnancy with Plan B. Plan B is the emergency contraceptive that can be used within 72 hours of unprotected sex. Remember ladies, unprotected sex is not a good idea. You don't want to go around telling people you might have "The H". But, why isn't there a plan b for those who made the choice to have children that turn into unruly ingrates? Merck? Pzifer? Bausch and Lomb? For god sakes, invent some rose colored valium.

Nebraska had a novel idea when it passed a law allowing parents to leave their children at a safe place, like a hospital, without fear of prosecution. Apparently, this backfired for the Nebraskans. The lawmakers did not define child. People began leaving unmanageable children, toddlers to teens, at hospitals. I think that has been changed now.

The contraceptive Plan B has some side affects such as, nausea, abdominal pain, fatigue, headache, and dizziness. These symptoms are the same for parents which seem to intensify in the child's tween, teen, and adult years. As I continue to wait tables, I continue to see horrible acting children with no manners or respect for anything. It makes me wonder what will happen when these kids grow up and rule the world.

Maybe we should just go back to Plan A where children were seen and not heard. Maybe my grandmother was right.

Monday, March 23, 2009

The Flip Flop Fiasco

Summer is approaching fast and flip flops are all the rage. The flip flop keeps feet cool while showing off that new pedicure with the latest OPI color (I'm Not Really A Waitress is among my favorites). The flip flop is a popular shoe for the summer season, yet, last year at my office job, there was a big hullabaloo regarding this style of shoe. I am still unsure what caused all the ruckus but, the shoe was banned by management. Memos were sent, and some managers walked around checking feet (sorry Clair).

The first memo I saw was on an e-bulletin board which read, "Please relay to all staff that flip flops are not allowed. Have all your managers be consistent". The proletariat became angry putting letters to the management in a comment box. Some of these contained complaints such as, "Please let it be known, that a few individuals have been asked to discontinue wearing flip flops or were asked to go home and change. The following day several persons from the same area were wearing flip flops with no reprimand given to those persons. Please explain to me why it is acceptable for some to wear these shoes when others cannot? I suggest that a general dress code needs to be developed for the entire agency, not for some" and "Are House shoes OK? What about bare feet? Sending someone home for the shoe -- Duh". The policy was vague and clarification was needed.

The second memo was sent, "
The referral to "flip flops" in the dress code is for the plastic or rubber "shower" shoes. This does NOT apply to other types of "flip flops" or sandals that are made of leather or other appropriate man-made materials". Here I thought rubber was an appropriate man-made material. Poop, on the other hand, I consider to be an inappropriate man-made material. But what do I know?

Co-workers began tattling on one another. I thought to myself, these are professionals, right?! Shouldn't they be working instead of worrying about what type of shoe one has on ones feet? I know I can't get any work done when someone near me is wearing flip flops. I just want to know the name of their toenail polish, and whether I can I borrow it on break. A friend with a sense of humor, who likes to make funny videos, brought her camera in, walked around filming feet, asking folks if their sandals were flip flops. These buffoons became irate, then started a rumor that management had asked her to film feet (again, sorry Clair) for proof of blatant disregard of this new policy.

Now with the warm weather upon us, I must decide if I want that new pair of Havaianas made of rubber costing $25.00 or, that pair made of leather from Nine West at a cost of $95.00, which, I may or may not be able to sport at work. I think I'll just stick to the Converse. Thanks Chuck Taylor, I knew I could always count on you for that professional look.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Did They Think I'd Have To Go To High School?

The first six years of my professional career were spent working at a no-income welfare office. I hold no ill will towards this population of our society sometimes called the underclass. The way I see it you are what you know. My parents went to work to get money, therefore I went to work. If my parents went to the welfare office for income, then I would have probably done the same. What soured me on the job was my inability to help educate people on such issues as family planning (it wasn't allowed...thanks pro-life lobby) and the value of higher education, or, just education in general, to name a few. I began to become frustrated with those who blamed me for their children being hungry. Now granted, I did not father these children, as I am female, nor did I tell them to miss an appointment resulting in a delay in their benefits. But what really put me in a conniption fit, daily, was the names they gave their children.

Granted, in this great land of ours, freedom is valued. However, I know some who think deeply about names they give their children. I have several friends who have recently become parents and they thought intelligently about their children's names. I even know one couple who did not divulge the name of their child until after it's birth for good reason. They wanted to see their child before naming it. Nor did they did not want comments regarding their choice, and I respected that. But sometimes one can't help but wonder, where the hell did they come up with that name? It is for that reason I will reveal to you some names I have seen or had to hear pronounced to believe.

There are the "I thought it was a minimal pair": Female pronounced fah-ma-lay: Expedition pronounced ex-po-di-shawn; Shithead prounounced shi-tayed. There are the what were you drinking?: Sharddonnay; Cabernnay. The what were you doing?: Quinella; Trifecta. The what were you driving?: Lexus; Porche. There are the "I love being a woman": Placenta; Clitoris. There are the "I thought I was a Royal": Jennifer II; George I, II, III, IV, V (sorry Foreman, he was never a client). There are ones named after periods of time: Todae; Yesterdae; and Sherman Tonight. And finally, there are the what the fuck were you thinking?: Babe~e~luv (That's original, right?!); Orangejello; Lemonjello; Alien Paz; Aryan (unfortunately, everyone will know what they think/believe). Incidentally, most of the related themes were siblings.

A big special thanks goes out Christopher Lee Mello. For if I had never asked him if his parents realized that they named him Chris Mello, he would never have responded, "Did they think I'd have to go to high school?".

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

But I'm Not A Doctor Or Anything

Working two jobs can sometimes be tiring but it pays the bills. Coincidentally, I must deal with doctors at both jobs. One as a professional, the other as a waitress. I wait tables at a restaurant next to a hospital. I also work with doctors, as a peer, helping people in need of medical assistance from the government. What I have found is that doctors, generally, are not very nice, have no sense of humor, think they are gods, and expect to be treated as such.

The doctors that come into the restaurant, usually in scrubs, are always talking on a cell phone, and are somehow very important(cutting in line), or so they think. They race to the host stand announcing that they need a table immediately because they are a doctor (yes, they say that). I suppose as a simpleton waiter or host, one could not figure out from the scrubs what they did for a living. I know I find them so intriguingly intelligent because they know by my apron and shirt with the restaurant logo that I am their waiter. Once, I walked up to a table and the 'doctor' was on his phone. I politely said that I would return when he was done with his conversation, but, to my surprise, he stated very loudly that he was a doctor and wanted an iced tea, now. Why must it be announced at every opportunity? I could'nt care less what you do for a living. Just leave me a good tip because I am a good waitress.

When not waiting tables, I work with doctors who work for the government. The majority of them do not have private practices and honestly don't know an ass from an eyeball. But hey, somebody had to graduate at the bottom of their class. I feel I know more about medical maladies than these said healers. What was that thing called again? Oh yeah...the Hippocratic Oath. For this job, I think they spell it Hypocrite-ick Oath. I can't ever remember who they are helping more their wallets or our clients.

So, I have found a way to amuse myself and save my sanity. Whenever a doctor asks me a question, whether at the restaurant or the government job, I always answer the question, politely of course, then add but I'm not a doctor or anything (adding a little spirit fingers hand motion). Most doctors do not find this funny. I however, howl with laughter until a little pee comes out.

Monday, March 9, 2009

John 3:16

My favorite place to shop for clothing is Forever 21. Maybe it is because I perpetually lie about my age and will be forever 21 or because one is able to find inexpensive clothing that is trendy. There are some things I don't like about this store. One being their return policy: Exchange or store credit is allowed within 21 days of purchase with original receipt and tags attached. Merchandise must be unwashed, unworn(define please-see last sentence of this paragraph), and undamaged for exchange or store credit. Don't get me started on sale items, you just can't exchange them, or get store credit, so you better like it. I suppose in this economy, that is good for them, but it is a pain in the ass for me. Why, you may ask? Because you have to try everything on right then and there to see if it fits and looks good. The store is forever crowded and one is only allowed 6 items in the dressing room at a time. I have spent several hours standing in line for a dressing room then trying on items only to end up buying one shirt.

But, the one thing that really grinds my gears (to quote the sage, Peter Griffin) about Forever 21 is the bottom of their bags. On the bottom of the Forever 21 bags, in bold black letters, it says John 3:16. Now seeing that I am a recovering Catholic, I had to look this up online. It is from the most widely read book of fiction called the Bible. John 3:16 goes like this: For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

I wonder if Forever 21 sees the irony in this? Many of the clothes in this store, I'm sure, are made in sweatshops around the world. I would think those sweatshop kids are probably perishing and have a short life. A lot of their clothing is for the slutty and whore-y, myself included. From what I can gather from the news, Christians (Evangelicals the likes of Jim Baker, et al, excluded) are pretty much against sluts and whores. I also must wonder WWJD? I think he would have a better return policy.

I am baffled by this and wonder what John 3:16 has to do with clothing? But hey, thanks God.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

1000 Island Dressing

Working in a restaurant, one encounters all kinds. The restaurant where I currently work is located in the capital of Texas, Austin. Austin is also home to the UIL basketball tournament (high school basketball...let's go to state, ya'll). Every year during the first two weekends in March, the city is descended upon by high schoolers and their fans. This tournament brings with it folks from everywhere in Texas, including the smallest of towns. For example, White Settlement, population 14,831 and Concepcion, population 61 (I guess they are not taking the Spanish definition or the English translation literally).

Now don't get me wrong, I love me some Texans, but these people need to Google restaurant etiquette while dining in the big city before coming into my restaurant. $2.00 is not the proper tip on a check total of $68.93. Even if it is put directly into the palm of the waiter's hand while saying, "This is for you darlin. You bin the the best waitress ah've ever had serve me". I have heard little nuggets like, "Did ya'll see that guy's t-shirt? It said keep Austin weird. I told ya'll this was a blue town." Keep Austin Weird does not mean 'stinkin liberal commie town'. It was a campaign slogan made up by the city to encourage people to buy from local businesses...not Wal-Mart.

But my favorite, by far, I hear every year has to do with 1000 Island dressing. You know, that disgusting concoction that makes a good salad turn into a bad hamburger. We do not have 1000 Island dressing where I wait tables. We have scrumptious dressings made from scratch among them are Tomato Basil Vinaigrette and Parmesan Peppercorn. Yet, every year I hear statements such as: "If you ain't got no 1000 Island dressin, then I don't want no salad" or "You ain't got no 1000 Island dressin? What kinda restraunt you runnin?"

Maybe next year I will bring in a bottle of 1000 Island dressing, put it on the counter with a sign saying not for sale. That'll teach them not to mess with this stinkin liberal commie!

Friday, March 6, 2009

Reminder Item

I work in a large office building with over 1000 people. Many people walk the perimeter of the cubicles for exercise. However, these said walkers have no social boundaries or awareness of their coworkers who must leave their cubicles for work purposes. This memo was sent out by the management to quell the bitterness between the walkers and the non-walkers.

Reminder item--Please remind staff who utilize the hallways for exercise to be considerate of others while walking. If they are walking in groups, they should walk in a single file and noise levels should be kept to a minimum. There should be no running or jogging in the building. Please let me know if you have questions about this.

Well, I have some questions.

Dear Management,

I am offended by swaggering, strutting, sashaying, peacocking, and flouncing. What are you going to do about that?
Skipping wasn't mentioned. Is it banned? I hope not because I would totally die. Also, I frequently like to walk with a bounce in my step, much like Kirsten Dunst in Bring It On. Will that be prohibited in the building? Finally, are meandering, promenading, and sauntering allowed?

Please let me know as soon as possible so I may get back to work.