Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Slush, School Zones, Plastic Forks, and Socks

Icy winter time again here, cold, chilly to the bone. And I'm more of a jack-ass than ever, just ask my girlfriend. I don't actually drive 80 MPH or with any real intention of climbing through the windshield to attack and eat the heart out of the driver in front of me, I just sound like it. That's part of my therapy! This is how I cope with these torments, these unnecessary and inconsiderate delays. Does it ever really matter that we get into work at 7:09 instead of 7:07 every morning? I know it doesn't. My GF thinks that I don't know it, though, and that I'm always seriously concerned with losing a minute here or there. Bah! This morning, in formally sort-of-snowy but now mostly-slushy conditions, there was a driver in front of me who thought it safest to make her* way through the middle of two lanes. This of course infuriated me so I of course let loose verbally which led to my GF getting all upset, saying I'm a dangerous driver and I should be more understanding and patient and .... oops, wait a second, look up ahead: Those school zone flashers will activate in less than a minute at 7:00 A.M. and a driver ahead of me is going 18 instead of the current limit of 45. Oh shit, like, "Don't drive too fast, you poor, timid, feeble, soul, otherwise you'll miss the the slow zone!" Idiot.

What is it lately with all these web sites and books and things showing all the places to see before you die? It's like stuff you need to do before leaving on a jet plane. I don't want to be reminded that I'm going to die and that I better do or see such and such. Give me a break. Just show me cool places around the world and I'll make up my own damn mind on what I want to see or where I want to go.

I work in a place where the cheap-ass cafeteria provides only cheap-ass plastic eating ware. I can't keep jack shit on my tiny plastic fork, it's always falling off. What can you comfortably eat with one of those? I can't cut jack shit with my stupid, cheap-ass dull plastic knife. What is the point? Never order a steak in a cafeteria that doesn't offer real knifes. They ought to cut up the meat in small, toddler-sized chunks so I don't have to screw with trying to cut my meat with such a dull utensil. It's like using a comb to cut through leather. They ought to have a food processor right next to the cash register.

I can't stand it when my socks fall down. You will even see me walk funny, such that my leg and calf muscles stay flexed enough to hold them up. Speaking of socks, have you ever noticed that October Fest revelers, you know with their outfits, socks up to their knees and all, dance like they need a wedgie remover?

* actually it was a guy who drives like a girl!

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