MAD AS HELL

STAYING IN THE LINES

2009-09-17T18:28:00.000-07:00

Let’s get one thing clear from the word “go.” I hate driving. I detest the entire experience. From turning the key in the ignition to arriving at my destination, operating a motor vehicle in Los Angeles is a live-fire exercise in survival. For me, there is no such thing as a “leisurely drive” to any destination.   Why? Because I am surrounded by jackholes who just don’t know how to properly operate a motor vehicle.

But ranting about the sorry state of driving on our streets and highways would be too easy for me. Not gonna do it. Instead, I’m going to talk about what people do with their cars when they’re not even moving at all.

There is some seriously annoying crap going on in our shopping mall parking lots today, people and it makes me mad as hell.

DING-BATS
You know what I just love? I love coming out of Target with 25 bags of stuff, throwing it all in my trunk, putting my key in the driver’s side door, and then seeing that brand new nasty looking DING that the inconsiderate douche bag who parked next to me just made with their door before speeding off.

I mean, what the hell? There’s a car right next to you. How about not opening your door like you’re throwing a Frisbee? Are you kicking that sucker open like it’s a fucking drug raid or what? My car has so many dings in it from the doors of douche bags next to me that it looks like a dimpled golf ball.

And let’s get one thing straight. I’m not crowding anybody either. I stay in the lines and give people plenty of room when I pull into a parking space. Which leads me to my next offender…

STAY IN THE LINES, IDIOT
You know what else I love? I love coming out of Target with 25 bags of stuff, throwing it all in my trunk, and then realizing that some jackhole has parked so close to me that I can’t even open my driver’s side door enough to get in my car.

This drives me fucking nuts. If your stupid Lincoln Navigator or your piece of shit Hummer can’t fit in the parking space then DON’T PARK THERE.

And how about the idiot who pulls into the parking space at an angle and blocks the only spot left in the entire mall because they just couldn’t be bothered to straighten out their car. Jeez, Kojack, I know you’re workin’ a case and you had to just screech that Ford Escape right into that space at a freakin’ right angle – because you’re just in such a rush - and jump right out and run into Sears to question some suspects, but how about a little common courtesy? Moron.

And speaking of parking spaces, how about the idiot who insists on doing a 17 point turn in the parking lot and holding up the flow of traffic just so they can BACK IN to the parking space instead of pulling-in forward like everyone else? What, are you robbing the K-Mart and you need to make a fast getaway, Bonnie and Clyde?

And by the way, it’s almost always some dipshit in a pick-up truck with the jacked up suspension and the monster truck wheels that pulls this “Dukes of Hazzard’, I-gotta-back-into-this-mall-parking-space asshole move.

And then there’s this dickweed:

IT’S MY PARKING SPACE AND I’M NOT GIVING IT TO YOU UNTIL I THINK YOU DESERVE IT

You know what else I love? I’ve been circling the mall parking lot for an hour, looking for a parking space and finally I see someone right in front of me get into their car! Jackpot! A space! I stop – my blinker politely clicking – and patiently wait for them to pull out of the space…..and I wait…and I wait…and I wait….

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, ASSHOLE? Are you doing your taxes while I’m waiting for your stupid parking space? You know, it’s just a PARKING SPACE.   You’re not selling me your condo. I don’t need to wait until escrow closes for you to pull your crappy Volkswagen Golf the fuck out of here.

That’s it.
No more shopping malls.
I’m buying everything online from now on.

PEOPLE FIRST, ANIMALS SECOND. PLANTS THIRD

2009-09-16T11:37:00.000-07:00

People who put the welfare of animals before the welfare of human beings really piss me off. These are the people who contribute money to PETA but won’t give a homeless guy on the street a fucking dime. These are often childless people who treat their animals as if they WERE their human children.

Guess what, cat lady….they’re ANIMALS. Not people.

Hey, I love animals. I have a cat. I’ve had dogs all my life. I had hamsters, guinea pigs, parakeets, turtles and fish. I’m a regular fucking Doctor Doolitle, okay?

But HUMAN BEINGS will always come first with me no matter what.

I have a relative in her sixties who never had children. She treats her dog better than she treats my kids. She told us she’ll baby-sit but she absolutely will not change diapers. Okay, fine. You don’t want to change my kids diaper? Fine. Got it.

But picking up an enormous, steaming pile of crap that just came out of your dog’s ass with your hand is perfectly okay with you? My kid – the one you’re actually RELATED to – makes a crap in a diaper and you won’t go near it without a HASMAT suit.

But dog shit – that’s okay?

This is also the same woman who contributed money to the “Help The Animals” fund after Hurricane Katrina but not the fund to help the PEOPLE.

What the fuck is the matter with a person like this?

These people who put animals first are also the same people who get all indignant when they find out that the parents of a brand new baby had to get rid of a pet because it became harmful to the child for one reason or another.

I personally know two instances where one couple had to get rid of their cat because the baby was very allergic and another couple had to get rid of their dog because it bit the baby. Now the PETA pussy who thinks animals are more important than people gets their panties all in a bunch over these situations.

“Oh, how could you just dump your animal off at the pound!? How dare you treat your dog/cat this way!”

Excuse me, but fuck you. Human beings come first.

If a baby is allergic to the cat, the cat goes bye-bye. The end. I was told that the baby was getting very bad asthma attacks. And this was a newborn, people. You don’t put a newborn on potentially harmful allergy medication because of a fucking ANIMAL. You get rid of the animal.

The other couple – the dog BIT the baby and drew blood. It was bad. Good-bye dog. The end. You don’t EVER fuck around with things like this because there have been instances where jealous domestic pets have KILLED infants. So the fucking dog GOES. Because the welfare of a human baby is more important than a dog. Really people, do I need to explain this one?

Apparently I do because I know someone who was just SO very OFFENDED that the biting dog couple got rid of the animal.

Offended?? Really? How would you feel if they kept the dog and it bit the kids hand off? You would probably feel bad for the dog because it could have choked on those human finger bones.

My bottom line: You’re a total asshole if you put animals before people.

Ask yourself this: If your 2 year old son and your 2 year old dog both fell off a cliff and you were there to catch them – one in each hand – but you only had the strength to pull up ONE of them and save their lives, who would you save? Your child or the dog?

Oh, wait. I forgot. You don’t have kids.
You only have animals.
Never mind, Ace Ventura.
See you at the next PETA fundraiser.

DRAWING THE LINE

2009-01-20T11:44:00.000-08:00

Waiting in line. Just about every time I leave my house I’m forced to wait in some kind of line. Whether it be at the supermarket, the bank, the DMV, a fast food drive-thru, a movie concession stand, an elevator, a theme park, a ticket window, even a red light. I am constantly being forced to wait on some kind of line to get what I want.

Lines, lines, everywhere lines!

Maybe it’s just my imagination but it seems as if these lines are taking longer and longer to traverse. And let me be clear. I didn’t say the lines themselves were getting longer. It’s just taking longer and longer to GET THROUGH the line. It’s not a problem of volume but of velocity.

Just this weekend I waited for a whopping FIFTEEN MINUTES on a movie concession stand line. And there were only TWO people in front of me! (More on that later)

Why the hell do these lines take so damn long? Let’s take them one at a time.

SUPERMARKET CHECK-OUT

First things first. If you’re standing in the “ten-items-or-less” line and you have eleven items, get your sorry ass out of that line now. Period. I don’t want to hear the old, “oh it’s just one extra thing” excuse. Get in another line.

And have you ever seen this one? Where some jack hole lays down 25 cans of cat food and then tries to say, “But it’s only one item.” Get your ass out of the line, crazy cat lady.

And you know what else is infuriating about the “ten-items-or-less” line? The cashiers NEVER enforce the rule. I have never EVER seen a cashier look a customer in the eye and tell them that they need to pick up their over-the-limit crap and go to another line. EVER. And that’s why people do it. Because there are no penalties or repercussions.

And how about this one. The market is packed and I’m standing in line behind the woman with her cart filled so high with crap that she should have just wheeled a dumpster through the aisles. It’s bad enough that she’s basically buying one of EVERYTHING in the whole market, but then I look to see who’s bagging all this stuff and I see…shocker… NOBODY.

Not only does the poor cashier have to spend a half hour scanning everything, but then she has to come around and BAG it all too. Really? I mean, who the fuck is managing these supermarkets? I don’t think you need an MBA from Harvard to know that there should be a bagger at every open check-out line.

And then comes the Pièce de résistance. How does this woman pay for groceries? WITH A CHECK! A fucking CHECK?! Are you kidding me?

Who the hell pays for groceries with a check anymore? Jesus Horatio Christ on the cross almighty! I mean, are you telling me that in 2009 you don’t have a debit card? Really? Now I have to stand in line for another ten minutes as the cashier checks three forms of I.D., gets approval from her manager and runs a chem panel on a urine sample just so she can accept that stupid check.

So I say, fine, forget it, I’m going to the brand spanking new ELECTRONIC SELF CHECK-OUT LANE! Woo hoo!

Yeah. No.

Because I’m either waiting just as long for some luddite to figure out how to USE the damn thing, or I’m trying to use it and it DOESN’T WORK!

THE BANK

To me, a trip to the bank should be – in military terms – like a surgical strike. You’re in, you’re out. Done and done. Unfortunately too many people liken the bank to a land war in Asia. They just don’t want to leave. Here are a few things that can help speed up my experience at the bank.

First of all, if you haven’t taken the time to fill out your deposit slip BEFORE you get in the line, you’re an asshole. Now, I take that back if you’re one of those people with a pen who can fill out the slip as you progress forward in line and you have it completed by the time you get to the window. Fine. Bravo for you. All good.

But most of the assholes who DON’T fill it out before they get in line waste MY time by filling it out as they stand there at the window. And there’s almost ALWAYS a sign that says: “ PLEASE HAVE YOUR DEPOSIT SLIPS READY BEFORE YOU ENTER THE LINE”

And is it enforced? Never. I have never seen a teller ask some jaggoff to go back and fill in their slip before they can help them. Never. I mean what’s the point of having these rules if they’re never enforced?

Okay so not only does this asshole not fill in their deposit slip but then they proceed to play 20 questions with the teller, argue about their balance, get a money order, buy a patriot bond, and generally chit-chat about a whole lot of bullshit while the 50 of us waiting in line want to kill him.

If you’ve got a lot of bullshit questions then call the fucking 800 number and let us get on with our lives!

THE DMV

Do I really need to go there?

FAST FOOD DRIVE-THRU

Why oh why does it take so freakin’ long at the drive-thru? I’ll tell you why.

First there’s this guy:

“Uh…I’ll have…a…lemme see....a…do you have…uh…lemme get a large….no wait…small….no….how about the….no the other thing….uh….”

JUST PICK SOMETHING YOU MORON!

Then there’s this guy:

“Yeah, lemme get 14 happy meals. 3 with hamburgers, 5 with cheeseburgers, 5 with nuggets, and one with a fish sandwich. Then I’ll need 17 combo meals. One with coke, one with orange, one with….”

This idiot is ALWAYS in front of me. ALWAYS. Ya know what? If you’re ordering for the whole soccer team, get the hell out of the drive-thru, park your Suburban and go into the restaurant. Have a little bit of consideration! It’s FAST FOOD for Christ’s sakes!

And hey you. Yeah, you working the drive-thru window. Any chance you could get my order right, like, just once? I mean, it’s not brain surgery. You read the computer screen and put whatever it says into the bag. That’s it. I mean holy crap if that’s just too complicated for you then I am truly afraid of you reproducing.

MOVIE CONCESSION STAND

Of all the lines I am forced to wait on, the movie concession stand is improbably longest wait with the shortest amount of people in front of me. And for the life of me I don’t know why. It’s just popcorn, candy and soda, people. The occasional hot dog. Maybe some nachos. So why does it take those concession people SO LONG to get it done?

I swear to you, my son and I waited a full 15 minutes on line for popcorn and there were only two people ahead of us. TWO. And I could not figure out what was taking so long. The popcorn was already popped. I mean are they choosing each kernel individually or what? Anybody out there work movie concessions? Can you please tell me why those people are so slow? I have no good answers.

MALL ELEVATOR

As a father with a stroller this one really pisses me off. Most malls are rife with escalators taking shoppers upward and downward to their consumer destinations. But those of us with a stroller in tow have only one choice when the need to traverse another level of the mall arises. The elevator. Most malls only have one central elevator. You may find another tucked away in a department store but those are usually not convenient to get to.

No, that lone, central elevator is usually our only choice. These elevators have no rider restrictions but it’s commonly understood that they’re really for the disabled and strollers, right? But most people are selfish assholes and don’t give a crap. So trying to use the elevator in a mall is usually like trying to get out of a stadium parking lot after a game. It’s a cluster-fuck. And why?

Because dip-shits who should walk the extra 25 feet over to the escalator are using the elevator instead. Seriously, people. If you’re not on crutches, in a wheelchair, or have a baby in a stroller then GET THE FUCK OFF THE MALL ELEVATOR AND GO USE AN ESCALATOR!

And how about the people who rush into the elevator before you even have a chance to get out? LET ME OFF THE ELEVATOR YOU IDIOTS!!

NEXT: DRIVING ME CRAZY

PUNCHED IN THE FACEBOOK

2009-01-09T22:09:00.000-08:00

Let me make one thing perfectly clear. I love Facebook.

As a busy husband and father of two, it offers me the opportunity to stay connected with friends and acquaintances that I don’t get to see nearly often enough. It connects me to good friends in other states who I might not get a chance to see for years. It’s a wonderful networking tool, keeping me in touch with people that I’ve had productive working relationships with in the entertainment industry.

And most fun of all, it has allowed me the opportunity to re-connect with many people I have not seen or spoken to in over 20 years. People I lost touch with – through no fault of theirs or mine – that I can now catch up with, share stories with, and reminisce with.

I loves me the Facebook.

But there are some things about it that make me mad as hell. Some of them have to do directly with the site itself. Others have more to do with the socio-psychological aspects of dealing with virtual friends, some real, some not so real.

First, the site itself.

Let’s talk about the “invites” people. Enough with the invites.

I don’t wanna be a vampire. I don’t wanna join your “mob”. I don’t wanna take that stupid quiz. I don’t wanna know which character I am from “Happy Days.” Can we just stop with the “hugs” and the “drinks” and the “pillow fights” and the pokes? The POKES! What the fuck IS that? Don’t poke me. Don’t you dare poke me! I don’t want to be poked! You keep your hands to yourself!

Oh, and by the way, can we all just put down the “snowballs” please?

And what’s with all the “calendar” applications. Do you not have a Blackberry or a PDA or how about this novel concept – an actual CALENDAR – that you can use?

Listen, I love Facebook for the PEOPLE. That’s it.

All this other Mickey Mouse crap has got to go.

Except the fish.

I like the fish.

You know, that Blue Cove thing.

It’s cute. Like having my own fish tank.

That I like.

But the rest of that crap needs to go away.

(of course the invite you got to read this blog is exempt) :)

A quick word about the “chat” feature. I think it’s mostly a pain in the ass. Invariably I’m in the middle of doing something and all of the sudden the chat box pops up and somebody wants to talk to me. I can’t ignore them or I look like an asshole but I really don’t want to get into a whole conversation right now because I’m usually busy. So I have it turned off so people don’t know when I’m online. And that’s the way I like it. Wanna talk to me? Write on my wall or send me a message. I will always respond. But I ain’t chatting.

Okay, so I’m done with that. Now let’s talk about some of the socio-psychological aspects of this Facebook phenomenon and what makes me mad as hell about them.

Let’s start with something simple. Let’s start with the profile picture. People who refuse to put up a profile picture drive me nuts. I mean, really? REALLY? There’s not one picture of yourself that you like? Not one? Are you that insecure about the way you look? Because if you are, then why are you even ON Facebook?!

Newsflash: Not putting a profile picture up does not make you mysterious. It makes you annoying. Put up a baby picture. A police artist sketch. A picture of your dog. SOMETHING! Leaving that stupid blue non-person place holder graphic where a picture should be bugs the hell out of me.

Know what else bugs the hell out of me? Those friends of mine who refuse to join Facebook. We all have THOSE friends who give one excuse or another for not joining in the fun. I have a handful of friends who, despite the prodding and cajoling from myself and mutual friends, simply refuse to join Facebook. Why? Here are the top excuses:

EXCUSE #1

Facebook is for teenagers.

Wrong. MYSPACE is for teenagers. FACEBOOK is for adults. Welcome to 2009 and get a clue. It is the easiest and most popular way for adults to stay in touch. It ain’t just for kids, Spanky.

EXCUSE #2

I just don’t do the whole “online” thing.

Really? You don’t DO it? Really? That just burns my ass. It reminds of the people who, when you ask them if they saw the latest episode of LOST say, “No. I don’t really watch television.” Everyone knows one of those snobby “I don’t watch television.” jaggoffs. And they say it like its some badge of intellectually superior honor that they’re wearing. Telling you they don’t watch television is really them telling YOU that you’re an idiot for doing so.

“I don’t really watch television.”

Fuck you. I have a plasma TV and I proudly make love to all 50 inches of it. And that doesn’t make me any less intelligent than you. Jackhole. Don’t even get me started on the whole “I don’t really watch television.” thing. That’s a whole other blog post.

So when I hear “I just don’t do the whole “online” thing.” It reminds me of the whole “I don’t really watch television.” thing. It’s a judgmental and pejorative statement.

EXCUSE #3

I work for a law firm, the government, a reputable company, etc and it wouldn’t be appropriate.

Okay, Senator. What are you afraid of? That someone might post that picture of you at the frat house lighting up that three foot tall bong and ruin your bid for the presidency? Give me a freakin’ break. Any two-bit Woodward & Bernstein could easily dig up that embarrassing crap from your past anyway so how is joining Facebook inappropriate?

And what about those people who join Facebook, friend you, then just…disappear? What is up with that? What could possibly freak you out so much that would compel you to remove all traces of yourself from a social networking website? Are you on parole? Did you lead a secret life as a porn star and you’re afraid people will find out? What have you got to hide?

Or maybe you changed your mind and decided….I just don’t do the whole “online” thing.