…that whenever there’s a cute young thing in the store that you’re surreptitiously watching walk away, there’s always some huge sweaty bastard in a dirty wife-beater T-shirt with his ass crack hanging out who manages to insinuate himself directly between you and the object of your gaze and stay there like a big stinking eclipse? Usually he’s eating something disgusting… or picking his nose.
… that whenever you’re in a hurry and there’s absolutely nobody on the road except for you, some clueless moron in a rusty jalopy will pull out directly in front of you – and then proceed to drive 20 miles per hour under the speed limit deliberately catching every single red light. For the next ten miles it’s a no-passing zone. Then inevitably, a semi-truck shows up out of no damned where and tailgates your ass?
… that when you just need to get an address or a phone number out of your online address book, that’s the moment when Windows decides that it just has to index every single bit on the hard drive? Or alternatively, that’s the exact moment your virus scanner decides that it just absolutely has to scan every single byte of data in the system? Or alternatively, that’s when every piece of software you own decides that it’s the optimal time to download updates? Or better yet, all three events occur simultaneously.
… that nobody calls you all week, but if you’re on the phone with an old friend that’s the exact moment every single person you know decides to call you? And the doorbell rings. And your wife hollers for you from upstairs.
… that they only clean the public restrooms when you’ve really got to take a piss?
… that your flight is only delayed if there are kids involved? Yours or somebody else’s – specifically the ones sitting directly behind you, kicking your seat. And speaking of air travel, why is it that every single person you end up sitting next to is either hygiene optional, afflicted with the fear of flying and Crohn’s disease, or just loves to talk about the Jesus – for eight hours.
… that your nose only itches when you’re cleaning the catbox?
… that if you’re all alone in an aisle at the store and you pass a little gas, a really hot chick will show up almost instantly to give you a dirty look? The more foul the gas, the larger the number of hot girls who will show up. Guaranteed if you had chili, pickled eggs, and dark beer for dinner the night before, you'll be sharing an elevator with the Hooter's A-Team in the morning.
… that if you’re on a long trip in the car and your wife has been dozing for hours without comment and you pick your nose, that’s the exact moment she opens hers eyes and asks how come you’ve always got your finger up your nose? And speaking of long car trips, how come your kid never has to go to the bathroom until the exact moment you pass the last rest stop or exit for the next sixty-five miles?
… that if you put up something really lame on your blog, for some reason that’s the day everybody comes to look? That’s the day you get links to half a dozen forums and popular blogs and CNN? And you can look at your stats and see them all looking at that one lame-ass post and you want to scream, Wait! Don’t go, read the thing about the Rubber Chicken, Dick Cheney, and the Lesbians! I swear that’s not lame. Please don’t read the lame post. Hello? Hello?
Maybe it’s just me.
What is that you notice?
I don't notice. I suspect my blog gets too little traffic for it to matter which post I might be worried they're looking at. Unless they comment, I've no idea that people have even seen the posts I make, much less read them.ReplyDelete
(But then, it's a lot easier to leave the crappier sketches in the sketchbook. Somewhere, scanning became this--I dunno--arduous thing I have to do to get art on the internets. This discourages lots of bloggy posts.)
Well, personally I like your sketches a lot, Scott.ReplyDelete
I hate it when I put up a post that I think has the solutions to all of mankind's problems...past, present and future...and 30 people show up to tell me I'm a lame idiot.ReplyDelete
"Dick Cheney and the Lesbians" would be a *Kick Ass* punk rock band.ReplyDelete
When we go visit my wife's mother we have to drive through two sets of twisty mountain roads, and invariably we're already late and get behind some dumbass who doesn't get that the "scenic area pulloffs" are also meant for slower traffic to let faster traffic pass. Flashing the "please let me pass" lights and eventually tailgaiting seem to do nothing, but when you finally get a passing lane that's when they decide to speed up 'cause they're pissed that you passed them.
And one's wife is totally responsible for the ass-crack vision block and the farting. They re-program a husband's personal reality while he sleeps to keep us from being attractive to other women. It has nothing to do with our getting older and failing to exercise regularly, honest. It goes along with their radar which is *infallable* for noticing personal faults like dealing with profoundly irritating nasal blockage *grin*
That when you work like a dog for six hours, surpassing all know productivity levels, and then, while waiting for a machine to finish processing some large task, you take a moment to say check on a friends blog that is the exact moment your boss, whom you haven't seen all day long, decides to check up on your progress.ReplyDelete
"… that they only clean the public restrooms when you’ve really got to take a piss?"ReplyDelete
People who clean restrooms at commuter train stations during the evening rush hour should be forced to clean them with their tongues.
"… that your nose only itches when you’re cleaning the catbox?"
It's the dust. I wear a dust mask. Think of all the tiny cat shit particles you inhale every time you clean the damn thing. :D
Oh, public transportation...I saw many ass-chappers on the way in today, let's see now, where to start -ReplyDelete
First there are the people who think the bus/train is their bathroom. And I don't mean just the vagrants that DO use it as bathroom, which is bad enough. I mean the folks that shave, tweeze, apply makeup, insert contacts, brush their teeth with those toothpaste pads, whiten their teeth, change diapers, and apply lotion or perfume. Do you have any idea how nasty the vehicles and stations are and how many germs you’re spreading/picking up and smearing all over your body? EEEEEWWW. Get dressed and primped BEFORE you leave your fucking house. I really have no desire to see you tweeze your nose hairs. NO, I DON'T!!
OH, and on the subject of getting dressed...THAT INCLUDED PANTIES, ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE WEARING A DRESS!!! And pants that cover your ass. I do not want to see your crack and the butt floss you're wearing ain't getting it.
Next we have the loud talkers. On their cell phones. Who think because they can't hear the person on the other end they should SHOUT into the phone. And my ears. Ouch. Again, I really don't need to hear about your latest bout of crotch rot at 120 decibels. NO, I DON'T! Oh, and the cussin' that goes with oh so much of it...
Then there are the backpacks, tote bags, purses that would be declared too big to carry on a plane, laptop bags, roll-ons, wheelie bags. Now, just to be clear, I travel every day on transit and I do carry a tote bag with the essentials and occasionally a small wheeled suitcase if I'm shopping. But I am very aware at all times of just exactly how much I'm toting and how much space me and my stuff are taking up. The rest of you, GET A CLUE!!! I like my toes. And when you get up, do NOT assume there is enough room around you to swing that bag in a full arc onto your shoulder or back. I also like my eyes and nose where they are and without bruises. And don't be pissed when the two-ton whatever hits me and I shove back. OUCH, that left a mark and it HURT.
Now, you want to get off the train and I'm in the aisle seat? Well, standing up and shoving don't get it, bitch. I don't care who you are, where you came from, or how you do it in Tokyo or wherever, here we have something called MANNERS. Which your parents should have taught you. Please, thank you, excuse me have NOT been taken out of the English language. What's more, I will not get up to let you out before the train stops, (it's a balance thing and if I hit the floor your way will well and truly be blocked) and I am happy to politely tell you that when you ask to get by. Shoving will not help in that case either.
There are many others...but I've sufficiently ruined everyone's lunch by now...
More later, if I can stomach it...
Jim, I have statistically analysed the examples you gave, and the inescapable conclusion is that it really is "just you". These things don't happen to normal people. They don't happen to people who don't make fun of Rush, or call for (ex-)President Bush to be tried for his crimes. They don't happen to most right-wing Republicans, another of your occasional targets. These things only happen to you.ReplyDelete
God hates you, my friend, and you better change your ways. These are signs of your personal apocalypse, and you will never be called to the Kingdom unless you repent. God is talking to you, my boy, and you better take notice!
The best you can do when these things happen is to have already prepared. Don't have to rush, don't need to do something at the last minute. Then, when these things inevitably happen, you can let them roll off you like water off a duck's back. 'Tis much better to be mello than to be so full of uptightnessity. Chill, dude!
Wendy, the other day an old guy (you know, about my age) and his girl sat right behind me on the train. He proceeded to put his feet/knees on the back of my seat and pushed/kicked/tapped. I got up, looked at him, moved to the seat behind him, and did the same such stuff to him. He turned around, looked at me, opened his mouth... Then he closed it and turned back around. I think that was the very first time in his life he realized what he'd been doing to others all his life.
It was a proud, almost parental moment for me.
Tom, You gave him a lightbulb moment!!ReplyDelete
YAY!! I'm so proud of you...
I have noticed that only the most whiny, inexperienced dunderheaded idiots are assigned to my $10 million dollar projects. Their behavior and incompetence has me reaching for the cutlery daily.ReplyDelete
Of course, as Tom mentions, if I loved the Jesus then this wouldn't happen to me.
And Scott, I like your art, too.
As some of you may know, I work at an auto parts store. It's spring, so folks are servicing their lawn mowers, roto-tillers, etc. You'd be amazed at how many exhanges go exatly like this:ReplyDelete
Customer: I need an air filter for my Honda mower.
Me: What model?
Customer: I don't know.
Me: Do you know what the filter looks like? Would you recognize it in a catalog?
Me: Well, I have to have SOMETHING go on.
Customer: Just sell me a filter.
This comment has been removed by the author.ReplyDelete
That spelling would be EXACTLY.ReplyDelete
And I need something TO go on.