Acting Stupidly

By now, most people have heard about the controversial arrest of Professor Henry Gates by a Cambridge, Massachusetts police sergeant. Although the charges were dropped, the story has continued to snowball.

This whole thing could have been avoided if Gates would have just cooperated with the police. But, no. He wanted to push the issue. He knew exactly what he was doing and took advantage of an opportunity. He knew how it would look for a white cop to arrest a prominent black professor. He played the race card and it worked.

Gates claimed he was a victim of racial profiling. Kind of ridiculous when you look at the facts of the case. Basically, the police are called to investigate the report of someone trying to break into Gates' house (by the way, there had been recent break-ins in the community, but let's not facts get in the way). The police arrive and find the door jimmied open with Gates inside. They ask him for ID and he starts making accusations of racism. After the police ask him the settle down, Gates continues to run his mouth. Ultimately, he is arrested for disorderly conduct. He cries racism all the way to the police station.

The bottom line is, Gates should have been grateful that his neighbors thought enough of him to call the police when the thought his home was being burglarized. He should have been grateful that the police quickly arrived to check out the situation. But no. He choose to be belligerent and forced the police to arrest him. Being a professor, he's obviously a very smart man and knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted to paint the image of a white police officer putting a handcuffed, middle aged black processor into the back of the squad car.

The story got new legs when President Obama answered a question at his health reform press conference. Without knowing the facts, Obama quickly criticized the police for the arrest. He said they acted "stupidly". Not surprising, since I believe Obama is a racist himself. After all, didn't he spend twenty years listening to the hate speech of Reverend Jeremiah Wright? So, it didn't surprise me that Obama would back his brother.

Let's look at the arresting officer. Yes, he's white. And to race hustlers, this is all that's required to make him a racist. However, they might have a hard time proving that he's a racist in this particular case. After all, Sergeant James Crowley has taught courses on how to not racially profile. He also volunteers his free time to coach youth sports. I'd be willing to bet there are at least a few black kids on his teams. And when Boston Celtics star Reggie Lewis (who happens to be black) collapsed during a practice session in 1993, Crowley was the one who attempted to revive him by giving him mouth to mouth resuscitation. This sure doesn't sound like a racist to me.

So, here we are. The latest I heard was that Obama is going to have Gates and Crowley over to the White House for a beer. I think this is purely a political move on Obama's part. He knows that he put his foot in his mouth with his comments. He has pissed off police unions across the country and he knows he's got to do something to save his ass. Kind of ironic.....Obama appears to be the one that acted the most "stupidly".

KW

Press 1 For English

About fifteen years ago, I was in a McDonald’s in Orlando, Florida. When I went to place my order, I noticed that they had two menus: one in English and one in Spanish. I found this a bit odd but it didn’t really seem to bother me too much. Not being that familiar with the Florida lifestyle, I just figured the Cubans liked Quarter Pounders as much as I did. Plus, this dual language thing could never fly in other parts of the country. Or could it??

Fast forward to the present…………..

Not only has Spanish set up shop across the whole country, it’s being forced down our throats! The last time I checked, English was the still official language of the United States. But I’m starting to wonder about it.

I stopped by an ATM last year. After I insert my card, it asks me if I want to conduct my transaction in English or Spanish. Like I fool, I start yelling at the damned thing, “What the f*ck do you think? What country is this, you electronic asshole?” Yeah, people were looking, but I didn’t care. I had reason to be pissed. This is America, dammit! And we’re supposed to speak English here!

Well, with all of the commotion, I accidently hit the Spanish button. Now, I’m screwed. About the only two Spanish words that I know are Corona and Margarita. Lucky for me, the bank was having some landscaping done. So, I motion for one of the guys to come over to the ATM and bail me out of this mess. He comes over and gets me back to the English screen. He thinks it’s funny. But I think its bullshit. I should have never had been put in that situation in the first place.

I had some concrete work done around my pool several years ago. The guy who came out and gave me the estimate was an all-American guy. And communication wasn’t an issue. However, when the work crew showed up, they couldn’t speak a word of English between them. There was some confusion at one point and I had to go out and try to explain things. It was ridiculous. We were like a bunch of caveman trying to communicate with pictures and hand gestures. Then I started to speak real slow, thinking that it might make it easier for them to understand me. Eventually, my patience ran out, and I called the boss man and told him that he needed to send a translator over.

When the job was over, I sat around and popped a couple of Coronas with them. Hey, beer speaks the universal language as far as I’m concerned!

Another McDonald’s story…….

I recently stopped at a local restaurant for one of their Southern Style Chicken Sandwiches. I place my order at the drive-thru speaker. Well, the guy hands me my food, he says “Gracious, senior!” What kind of bullshit is that? Now, we’re being greeted in Spanish at an all-American place like Mickey-Dee’s??? If this is going to continue, I want to see burritos and chimichangas on the dollar menu the next time I visit!

And maybe I’m paranoid, but every time I walk past the long line of Spanish speaking folks at the DMV, I get a feeling they’re talking about me. There’s no way I can be sure because I CAN’T UNDERSTAND THEM!!

I’m sorry, but if you want to live in this country, the least you can do is learn English. This is America and I’ll be dammed if you’ll force me to speak your language!

KW

The Passing Of Michael Jackson

The death of Michael Jackson is finally becoming yesterday’s news. For the weeks following his passing, you couldn’t escape massive media coverage. Jackson was a pop icon and I do believe that the story deserved a fair amount of coverage.

Everyone seems to have their own opinion of the King of Pop. He was certainly a gifted entertainer but I don’t think the average person realized how talented he really was. Aside from being a brilliant performer, he had a large part in the actual production of his music. In this respect, the guy was truly a genius.

Of course, his music was sometimes overshadowed by his bizarre lifestyle. From wearing surgeon’s masks in public to sleeping with Bubbles the chimp, his life was far from normal. He altered his physical appearance so much over the past twenty-five years; he started to take on the look of a sideshow circus freak. It almost made it hard to take him seriously anymore.

Although Jackson had millions of female fans, he wasn’t known to spend much time with the opposite sex. Of course, he was close friends with Brooke Shields and Diana Ross, but those relationships seemed to be strictly platonic. Jackson seemed to be more comfortable in the company of youngsters like Macaulay Caulken (the Home Alone kid) and the little guy who played Webster.

Then, Jackson threw the world a curve ball. He got married! And he didn’t marry just any girl. The King of Pop married the daughter of The King himself! He married Elvis Presley’s daughter. This was likely done as some type of publicity stunt and the marriage ending shortly after it began. Nonetheless, it turned the world on his head and it left The King turning it his grave.

But the most troubling part of Jackson’s strange life was the accusations of child molestation. Of course he was found not guilty, but it still left doubt in most people’s mind. After all, why would a grown man make it habit of having young boys over for sleepovers? It was beyond strange and I can’t understand why any parent would allow it to happen. With that being said, I do believe that some parents were looking for a payday from Jackson. I find it sick that they would jeopardize the well-being of their child in order to extort money from MJ. Whether or not, he actually committed any of these accusations may never be known to the public.

Shifting gears a bit……..

I personally thought the media coverage was overblown. Yes, Jackson was a huge star but I don’t think he deserved all the attention. There are far more important people that have died and haven’t received a fraction of the coverage he got. Over 4000 American soldiers have died in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Do they get ANY coverage at all? I personally think that they are FAR more deserving than Michael Jackson.

Also, during Jackson’s memorial services, I was appalled by some the comments. As soon as I saw Al Sharpton, I knew that he would somehow inject racism into the situation. He always does. Sharpton is a race hustling moron, so I expect him to do these types of things. But what irritated me the most was when actor/musician Jamie Foxx stepped up to the microphone. He basically said that Michael Jackson belonged to the black community and they only “lent” him to the whites. What kind of bullshit is that? Isn’t that in itself a racist comment? And is it appropriate for an memorial service when millions of white fans are mourning Jackson’s death. I lost all respect for Foxx after this.

Now, that Michael Jackson has been laid to rest, I think it’s time for the circus to leave town…..

KW

Bashing Sarah

When John McCain introduced Alaska Governor Sarah Palin to be his running mate in 2008 Presidential campaign, it should have been viewed as a breath of fresh air. Palin was young, vibrant and articulate (Not to mention VERY attractive). She had an opportunity to achieve the highest position in this country’s history for a woman. You would have thought that the country, as a whole, would have respected this fact. After all, we were reminded everyday about the historical significance of Barrack Obama’s presidential campaign. The media showed their love for him every day (and still do!).

But instead of showing respect, the Democrats took every opportunity to bash Palin. Even women’s organizations opposed her! Why? Probably because she doesn’t believe in killing unborn babies (aka abortion). The libs like to embrace Pro-Choice. If they really feel that it’s a woman’s right to “choose”, why did they have a problem with Palin “choosing” to not to kill her unborn baby??

While the typical liberal talking heads kissed Obama’s ass every night, they slammed Sarah Palin every chance they could. The ironic part was that Palin was only running for Vice-President. You would have thought the silly libs would have been more concerned with John McCain. I never fully understood this.

As if the verbal attacks weren’t bad enough, many of the liberal talk shows invited the father of Palin’s grandchild into their studios. There, they used the teenage boy to bad-mouth Palin. I didn’t even think the loony left was low enough to do something like this. Obviously, I was wrong.

The criticism and ridicule of Palin continued throughout the campaign. In fact, it still continues today! Here are just a few examples of the vicious, low class attacks on the former Vice-Presidential candidate and her family:

• Saturday Night Live did a skit where they portrayed Palin’s husband as the father of Palin’s granddaughter. Calling this classless is an understatement.

• David Letterman recently made a lame joke about Palin’s teenage daughter being “knocked up” by Alex Rodriguez at a New York Yankees game during the seventh inning stretch. Real brave to pick on a kid, you gap-toothed prick!

• Intellectual heavyweight Pamela Anderson simply said of Palin, “I can’t stand her. She can suck it.” Well, I guess Pam does know a thing or two about sucking.

• "Us" magazine plastered the front cover with a photo of Palin holding her infant son, Trig. The name of the cover story? Babies, Lies & Scandals. I personally wouldn’t wipe my ass with this magazine.

• Oprah refused to have Palin on her show. She pledged her allegiance to Obama and wasn’t going to compromise her support for her “brother”. I guess race trumps everything?

• A group calling themselves “Anonymous” hacked into Palin’s private email account. Then they posted her emails and password online.

• The National Enquirer ran a story about Palin having an extramarital affair when she was mayor of Wasilla. The story was bullshit and the NE’s smear tactic quickly fizzled out.

• A writer (her worthless name escapes me) for the liberal rag, Baltimore Sun, actually criticized Palin for NOT aborting her Down’s Syndrome baby.

With Sarah Palin’s recent resignation as Governor of Alaska, the liberal media now has a new reason the step up the bashing again. The sad part is that I believe that it was this very thing that caused her to step down. I wish she would have stuck it out. I’m afraid her political career might well be over as a result of her resignation.

Hey, I know politics is a dirty game. If you want to attack a politician on the issues, that’s one thing. But I was truly amazed at the personal attacks that Sarah Palin had to endure throughout the campaign. It was probably the lowest form of political mudslinging that I’ve ever seen. All those responsible should be ashamed of themselves.

KW

The Wal-Mart Zone

“There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone……”

Ok, so maybe I’m exaggerating a little. After all, I do indeed shop at Wal-Mart occasionally. How else would I be able to tell you the following story? For what it’s worth, Wal-Mart has decent merchandise at fair prices. I’ll give them that. However, I have experienced some pretty strange people (shoppers and employees) throughout the place. This will be the beef in the double cheeseburger I’m about to serve you.

(For better readability, I’ve condensed all of my experiences into one eventful day)

I roll into the crowded parking lot behind a line of pick-up trucks, mini-vans and at least one El Camino. As I pull into a parking space, some nit-wit has his car stereo thumping so loud that I’m thinking that my heart might get knocked out of rhythm. I can’t make out all of the words to the “song”, but the word “motherf*cker” seems to come up quite a bit.

I walk through the store entrance and am instantly met by the “greeter”. I feel bad for this guy. I mean how bored can this guy be to spend his golden years saying “Hello” to rednecks all day? Did the Dunkin’ Donut seniors kick him out of the all-day coffee drinking club?

One this particular day, it’s rather early and it appears that the first shift has recently come on board. The manager is having a rah-rah session with the employees near the front service desk. He says something, and then they respond similar to the way a group of Marines might respond to their drill sergeant. This continues for about 10-15 minutes. I can hear them as I move throughout the store. It almost seems cult-like to me and I begin to get scared.

The chanting eventually stops and I continue to shop. I hear a couple of intellectuals in the next aisle having a spirited conversation on their plans for the night. They drop more F-bombs than a gansta rap CD. To my delight, I discover that these two fine individuals are Wal-Mart employees. Nice!

As I go through the store, I decide to start playing an impromptu game of “Count The Mullets”. I’m not kidding you, I haven’t seen this many mullets since the rock concerts of the 80’s. I stop counting at a dozen when a high ranking female member of the Wal-Mart staff rolls by with gray bi-level. I fight the urge to giggle because this woman looks like she’s been in a scrap or two. And she could probably kick my ass.

A couple of kids are running through the store knocking things off the shelves. Their overweight mother threatens to “whoop their little asses” in between bites of a powered donut. The kids know that there’s no way the mother could ever catch them. So, the kids continue to wreak havoc and the mother grabs another donut.

As I enter the lawn and garden section, I hear two customers debating which gawdy lawn ornament would look better in front of their trailer. A grumpy employee (I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman) comes over to help them with their decision. It appears that they will eventually go with a large ceramic pineapple.

As I gather my up my goods, I enter the checkout line. There I’m greeted with a nice enough cashier. She smiles at me with her summer teeth (som ‘er here, som ‘er there). One of my items needs a price check, so instead of the cashier picking up the phone, she yells across the store to another employee. It startles several people. As I’m waiting, a man wearing a cowboy hat in a handicapped scooter wants to tell me about his daily trips to Wal-Mart. He tells me that he knows all of the cashiers and that he comes in to annoy them every day. He seems very proud of this.

Then, he holds up a pack of razor blades and asks, “Guess what I’m gonna do when I get home?” I’m almost afraid to answer him. Before I can get anything out, he smiles and starts to rub his face as if he’s giving me a hint. Now, I can definitely hear the familiar music from the Twilight Zone coming from somewhere in the store. At this point, I’m officially frightened!

I tell the cashier to forget about the price check and just ring me out because I have places to go and people to see. She looks a bit confused but proceeds with the checkout. Meanwhile, the man in the scooter says, “You be sure to come back now. Ya’ hear?” I drop a couple things as I hurry to get out of the store. While I'm picking up my items, another employee comes running up to me and wants to give me a sticker to put on my shirt. I tell him "No, Thanks" and bolt out to the parking lot.

As crazy as it sounds, I will go back. Aside from getting good buys, I almost always have a memorable experience!

KW

Reality Shows

Reality Shows

At what point did we get so bored with our own lives that we had to tune into other people’s lives for entertainment? I don’t know when they started, but reality shows seem to occupy about half of the modern day TV slots. Although they offer no productive value, they still manage to attract hoards of clueless viewers.

Hey maybe, I’m being a little unfair here. After all, I watched Survivor when it first came to the networks. It seemed like an original enough idea. And I thought it might be interesting to see how the contestants survived the trials and tribulations of being in a remote spot with fifteen other people. Kind of a “Lord Of The Flies” type setting. But it didn’t take long for the typical drama bullshit to unfold and I soon lost interest. I always thought that it would be interesting to see how sixteen yuppies might survive if you dropped them off in West Baltimore in the middle of the night. I pitched it to the producers, but never heard back them.

Lately, all you hear about is this “Jon & Kate Plus Eight”. OK, they have eight young children (six are sextuplets). Seems challenging, but why would anyone want to peer into their lives every day? Is it really more interesting (or important!) than your own life? If it is, I really feel sorry for you. And now that Jon & Kate are getting divorced, the show is being hyped more than ever. It’s all over the morning news shows, tabloids, late night shows, etc. It’s totally ridiculous if you ask me. I personally couldn’t care less.

And don’t even get me started on MTV. Anyone with an IQ over 10 shouldn’t be allowed to watch this channel anymore. I can remember when MTV (by the way, MTV is an acronym for Music Television) actually played music videos and concerts. Back in the 80’s, it was catalyst for the careers of many huge stars such as Madonna and Michael Jackson (who can forget the premier of the Thriller video?). Today, MTV is a nothing but a series of dumbass reality shows that couldn’t send a worse message to today’s youngsters. I don’t think they even show anything remotely related to music anymore. They’re a total joke!

I guess what pisses me off the most about reality shows is that they’re not real! It seems pretty obvious to me that most of them are scripted. It’s kind of like watching WWF wresting. I know there are tons of fans, but I don’t understand it. If you’re calling it a reality show, shouldn’t it be real??

I guess Cops would be considered a reality show. This is one that I don’t think is scripted. Mainly, because the white trash “contestants” are generally too stupid to even read a script! However, I have to admit that there’s something somewhat compelling watching the cops manhandle a loser in a wife beater!

There are too many dumbass reality shows to list here. I just can’t understand why someone would waste time in their own life to tune into this useless bullshit. It really bothers me the way today’s kids follow this crap. It reinforces all the wrong messages (especially MTV!).

I guess it’s the new American way of taking the easy way out. With reality shows, no need for any imagination, high quality actors or intelligent writers. Just gather up some boneheads and let the cameras roll!



KW

Happy Birthday, America!

It’s the morning of July 4th. I’m priming my system with caffeine before I start to prepare for the annual family cook-out . I like to refer to this time as “the calm before the storm”. Things will likely get busy and loud come mid-afternoon. But that’s fine by me. I’m sure that millions of other backyards across America will be mirroring what's going on in mine today.

As we get caught up in the festivities today, it’s easy to overlook the reason for the holiday. We are so fortunate to live in the greatest country in the world. Anything is possible in this country if you want it bad enough. This truly is the land of opportunity. In a nutshell, we’re free.

Certain things always trigger my patriotic nerve. Just the sight of the American flag instantly fills me with pride. Yes, I do pledge allegiance to the stars and stripes! And to this day, I still get goose bumps every time I hear the Star Spangled Banner. It always makes me think about the sacrifices that were made for our freedoms.

Shortly after the attacks of September 11, I recall flipping through the news channels. I instantly stopped when I saw a live shot of the US Senate on the steps of the Capital. They were all singing God Bless America. It was one of the most powerful images that I ever saw. There were no liberals or conservatives that night. Everyone was a proud American. Thinking about it still strikes an emotionally chord in me.

Today, while celebrating this day with your family and friends, please take a moment to reflect on those that have fought and still fight for our freedom and independence. This country owes a debt of gratitude to our troops. I’d like to thank each and every one of them. Quite simply, they are the best!

Happy Birthday America!

KW

PS….I must also mention that we’ll also be celebrating Tina’s parent’s 50th wedding anniversary today. Congratulations to two of my favorite people!

Red Necks & White Trash

Friday, June 26, 2009

I don’t even know where to start with this one. We’ve all heard the jokes, seen the images and strolled through a Wal-Mart or two. So, without further ado, let’s deep dive right into this sixteen ounce can of skull-busting Budweiser……

I’m not exactly sure what the difference is between a redneck and white trash, but I do believe there is a fine line. I'm going to try to distinguish between the two. For instance, a redneck will bust his ass all week to earn enough cash to party through the weekend. There’s some merit in that. On the other hand, the white trash will contently wait (while munching on a bag of Doritos) for the postman to bring his SSI check. Afterward, there will likely be a mullet jamboree at the trailer park. Hot damn!

You can meet these characters almost anywhere. But they seem to show up consistently at Wal-Mart. You can usually find the flannel-shirted rednecks huddling together in the hunting/fishing section, while the white trash will be shuffling through the DVD budget bin. I think that Wal-Mart intentionally loads up “the bin” with low budget, dumb-ass movies knowing that these idiots will jump in the El Camino and head to the nearest Wally World to snatch them up. (I wonder if their Independence cards cover these things??)

Rednecks love to fight. Once “Sweet Home Alabama” kicks in, prepare yourself, ‘cause there’s gonna be an ass whoppin’! It’s kind of like a mating call. There doesn’t even have to be a reason. They’ll fight their own mother if she’s the only one around. And I give the mother even odds!

Now, white trash, on the other hand, has a clear motive for fighting. In a nutshell, they want to sue someone. You can bet your ass that right after the brawl, win or lose; they’ll be heading straight to their favorite personal injuy lawyer. Hey, those welfare checks only go so far, you know!

A redneck is proud of his choices of alcoholic beverages. It’s pretty much straight up Budweiser (in a can!) and Jack Daniels for a chaser. There is no compromise here, these are serious drinks for serious people.

For white trash, it’s all about being cheap. You ever see some no-name beer on the back shelf of the liquor store? Well, that’s set there for a reason. Yes, it tastes like warm piss, but it’s $5 a case and that’s a bargain in any west Kentucky town! In the event of a little romance, the white trash might splurge for a bottle of Boone’s Farm. Because nothing says, “I want to be the father of you illegitimate love baby” more than a bottle of Strawberry Hill. Cheers!

Rednecks like using power tools in the great outdoors. Maybe it’s gets their testosterone flowing, I dunno. A few years ago, the rednecks on the other side of the woods from me got a little bored. So, after four or five cases of Budweiser, they got the chainsaws out. If you think that handling sharp, dangerous power tools is a stupid thing to do while you’re drunk, you’ve obviously got a lot to learn about being a redneck! After the trees started falling, I called the police. The police promptly came and said that they appreciated my concern for the guy’s safety. I told them that they could cut each other’s nut sacks off for all I cared! But the woods were the only thing separating me from them. And they were cutting down the barrier! (I sometimes refer to this as The Great Wall of Glen Burnie.)

The white trash stayed in the house and watched Jerry Springer during the whole tree cutting adventure.

Rednecks are somewhat conservative when it comes to their finances. They tend to work for what they have. Even if it’s a plastic talking deer head mounted on the wall, they probably paid for it. Yeah, we laugh at the gift wrapped mud flaps under the tree on Christmas morning, but it is what it is.

White trash lets the rest of us pay for their irresponsible lifestyles. Although they don’t work, they’re likely to own a couple of unneutered pit bulls and a big screen plasma TV. They let the rest of us pick up their tab and that’s bullshit. It's amazing that these people are dumb as a box of rocks but somehow know how to skate by on our dime. Yes, I'm a little jealous.

Hey, I’m not trying to be judgmental. The world would be a far less interesting place if it weren’t for rednecks and white trash. They serve their purpose in life. They make us feel better about ourselves and give us a much needed source of amusement. God bless them, I guess....

KW

Telemarketers

Friday, June 5, 2009

I’m sitting there eating my dinner or relaxing in front of the TV when all of a sudden, the phone rings. And even though I’m not in the mood to talk, my natural reaction is to answer it. So, I reluctantly pick up the phone and force out a less than enthusiastic “hello”. Is it a relative calling to see what I’m bringing to the birthday party this weekend? Is it a longtime friend calling to catch up on things? Could it be my dentist’s office calling to confirm my semi-annual check-up? The answers can be summed with an empahtic “Hell, no!”

On the other of the receiver halfway around the world, someone named Akbar wants to know how I’m doing. Am I to believe that my new Indian friend has no other motive than to check up on my well being? I wasn’t born yesterday. So, I say, “Let’s cut the bullshit, Akbar. What are you selling?”

In a heavy Mid Eastern accent, Akbar asks me if I own any credit cards. I ask him why he wants to know. He tells me that he has credit fraud insurance that he can offer me for a remarkable price. Of course, it took more than one “Can you repeat that” to finally comprehend this. I tell him I’m not interested, and then Akbar comes back with an obviously scripted response. This goes back and forth a few times before I realize that I can end this bullshit by simply hanging up the phone. So, that’s exactly what I do.

I think everyone has dealt with telemarketers to some degree. They are intrusive, annoying and irritating to say the least. I view them as unwelcome guests in my home. Intruders, if you want to push it. I’d like to kick the guy’s ass that came up with the concept of telemarketing. At least the door-to-door salesmen of yesteryear had the balls to annoy you in person.

But let’s face it, telemarketers are here to stay. So, I suggest using them as a source of entertainment. It sounds crazy but you might get to a point where you actually look forward to that annoying call! I like to think that my glass is half full. Here are some things I’ve personally done to make the most of the situation:

1. After the telemarketer asks to speak to you, say, “Sure, hang on one second”. The put the phone down and walk away. This will leave the asshole in limbo for an extended amount of time. Remember, these jerk-offs get paid by how many calls they make.

2. Let the telemarketer go on with his long sales pitch. During the whole thing, just give an occasional “Mmm-hmmm” to give the impression that you’re really interested. After he finally finishes, ask him to repeat it. Do this every time he finishes the sales pitch until he finally realizes that you’re f*cking with him. You’ll be amused and he’ll hang up. It’s a win-win.

3. When the fire/police departments call asking for donations, demand to know who they work for. The person on the other end will probably tell you that he “represents” the fire/police department. In reality, the fire/police departments only get 13% of the donations. The rest goes to the telemarketing firm. This is bullshit and I won’t donate to them. Yeah, they’ve hung up on me and I don't care. I think it's downright robbery that they keep the bulk of the donations!

4. While the telemarketer is in mid-speech, keep yelling at your “phantom kids”. Your script will go something like this: “God damn it, knock it off!.. I’m sorry, what were you saying sir?....... Hold on. Hey you little bastard, don’t make me take my belt off!.. Kids, don’t you love ‘em. Go ahead……Son of a bitch, if you two don’t stop I’m gonna whoop your mothers ass!....This is ridiculous, I’m so sorry, please continue….Dammit, that’s it! It’s Giuliani time for you guys!... I’m sorry sir, could we try this another time??”

Anyway, I think you get the picture……

Yeah, some of this might seem a bit overboard. But, hey, I didn’t invite these morons into my house. So, since they decided to invite themselves, I might as well have some fun, right??

KW

The Grocery Store

Thursday, May 14, 2009

I can think of many stressful activities. Bungee cord jumping comes immediately to mind. And I guess a Hollywood stunt double might reach for the bottle of Pepto-Bismol after day’s work. A stock broker, especially these days, can likely look forward to an ulcer. And driving through West Baltimore always has the potential to put one through some pain and suffering.

But enough of all this, let me tell you about my typical grocery shopping experience…..

I pull into the parking lot looking for an open area. I swerve around several cars with AARP bumpers stickers .The drivers seem to have an abundance of time to wait for that perfect parking space. I find a spot at the end of the lot and make my way to the front door. As I’m walking, I notice an elderly man loading his final grocery bag into his car. As he closes the trunk, he seems oblivious to the shopping cart that he just turned loose. It rolls downhill and right into the side of another parked car. The old man doesn’t even notice it and slowly gets into his car and eventually takes off. I’m assuming that he does this type of thing regularly.

Once I get inside, the bright lights and cleanliness of the store puts me at ease. Of course, this is short lived. As I walk towards the salad bar, I see a large Hispanic woman coughing all over the broccoli that, up until 30 seconds ago, was going to be a part of my lunch. If this wasn’t bad enough, her two kids are having a food fight with the imitation crab meat. Red and white chunks litter the floor like a good episode of The Sopranos. As a piece of fish sails past my head, I decide against the salad for lunch.

I head towards the bread shelf. As I get closer, a lady asks me if I’ve ever tried the 7-grain whole wheat. Huh? I feel like asking, “What the f*ck do I look like, the Wonder bread man??” But I just tell her that I usually buy whatever’s on sale and move on…

I make a turn in the coffee and tea aisle. I see a woman with her shopping cart standing right in front of the Chock Full o’ Nuts. I politely say, “Excuse me” and try to grab a can. But she’s too busy yapping on her cell phone to even notice me. I accidently nudge her arm. Then she spins around and says, “You could have at least said ‘Excuse me’!” This sets me off! In my mind, I say, “You stupid bitch. If you weren’t so God damned clueless and were paying attention, I wouldn’t have bumped you! You can kiss my Chock Full o’ Ass!”

But in reality, I quietly said, “Sorry” and walked away…….

I attempt to make my way down the next aisle. There’s a robust woman leaning over her shopping cart which is parked right in the middle of the aisle. She seems to be in deep thought. My assumption is that she can’t decide between the Ring-Dings or Ho-Ho’s. She’s got the aisle blocked in a way that no one can get past her. I see a guy coming down the other direction. It seems like an impromptu game of chicken has been introduced. Which one of us will have the balls to interrupt the cupcake lady? As luck would have it, the woman finally grabs an extra large box of Twinkies and vacates the aisle. As I pass the other guy, we just give each other a nod. We know that we both dodged a bullet and will live to fight another day.

I pass the pharmacy and notice the blood pressure machine. For a second, I consider checking myself out to see how I’m doing. But I decide against it and march on…..

As I head into the dairy isle, I notice about a dozen senior citizens scattered about. I can’t help but to overhear their conversations. The topics of the day seem to center around Metamucil and lactose intolerance. Too much for me to bear, so I head right on through….

As I turn the corner, I see the two kids from the salad bar. Now, they’ve graduated to a can of macadamia nuts and are throwing them at each other like snowballs. Little round nuts litter the floor. A broken hip could be in the future for one of the Metamucil crew. Clean up in aisle five!

I’ve had about all I can take. So, I take my five or six items to the express lane. This is my lucky day. The asshole in front of me has an overflowing cart of items. Obviously, he thought the brightly lit “10 items or less” sign only applied to everyone else! After what seems like an eternity, he finishes up and heads out the door. The cashier scans my items and asks me if I want paper or plastic. I tell her she can put my stuff in an old sock for all I care. She gives me plastic. I grab my items, throw them in the cart and head out to the parking lot. I see the asshole from the express lane loading up his twenty bags of groceries. Thoughts of the old man and the shopping cart come back to me. So, I nonchalantly turn my cart loose in the direction of the guy’s large SUV. I hurry up and pull out of the parking lot. I check my rear view mirror to see the cart hit the guy square in the ass as he’s bending over his trunk. This instantly makes me smile.

Sometimes, it’s the little things that help you relieve stress………

KW

Home Improvements

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Growing up, my dad was always doing things around the house. He’s a carpenter by trade, so he could always do almost any home repair/remodeling project. He taught me a lot as a young man. As a result, I’m able to do most of my own remodeling projects today. And, truth be told, I’m not half bad at it.

However, that doesn’t mean I like it……..

We could move into a brand new house with all the amenities and Tina would still find something to “improve”. I’m serious. Whether it’s the color of the paint, the style of the front door or the shelving in the laundry room, she’s changing something. And it usually involves me. (Note: Part of our marriage agreement states that I will do no painting. So, if it involves a brush, roller or masking tape, it ain’t me).

During any project, the first thing that changes is my vocabulary. Four letter words instantly start spewing from my mouth with everything that goes wrong. For whatever reason, it helps me move on after I f*ck something up. (See, just thinking about it gets me going. It’s sort of like Tourette’s Syndrome).

One of the first items of business when we bought our house was to gut out the kitchen. Even though this was well over ten years ago, I still cringe at the thought of it. I allocated a full week to the whole project. I would wake up at 6:00 AM and work until around 9 or 10 o’clock at night. To say it was tiresome would be an understatement. Thank God my dad came down to give me a hand.

To balance the family commitment, I asked my father-in-law to handle a small plumbing project while I was working on the other stuff. Well, he has a tendency to get absorbed in whatever it is he’s doing. Every day around dinner time, he’d come over with a note pad. He’d want to have a beer and talk about the project. Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy, but it drove me f*cking nuts! It got to a point where I’d lock the doors and hide under the bed when I saw him pulling up in the driveway.

Somewhere in between, I had asked a buddy to sweat a couple of water pipes for me. So, one day he comes over with a torch and a gas tank large enough to fuel a 747. He could barely get this thing through the front door! My dad sees this and asks, “What’s he doing with that?” I explain that he’s sweating a a couple pipes for me. My dad, who is always eager to share his opinion replies, “Are you guys nuts? You’re going to burn the f*cking house down!” So, now I’ve got this bullshit to deal with. I was really starting to wonder if I’d live through this one!

But in the end, everyone survived and the new kitchen was a success…..

Then, there was the basement remodeling project. This one was born out my purchase of a big screen TV. It looked so small in the store but when I brought it home, it was overwhelming. It would have been like sitting in the front row of a movie theater every night. So, I thought it made more sense to remodel the basement rather than to exchange the TV for a smaller one. For anyone keeping score, I’m not very smart…….

Last year, I finally put up the privacy fence that Tina’s been on my ass about for years. I decided to build this one from scratch with no real planning. Piece of cake, right? It turned out to be an ass-busting job! I would get up every morning and head to the Home Depot before the crowds came in. I’d load Tina’s little SUV up with as much lumber as it would hold. It’s a wonder I didn’t bust the tires! Actually, I was probably more worried about someone taking a photo (or worse, a video!) and posting it on You Tube. I could see myself, arms folded, leaning up against the poor vehicle with four busted tires in the middle of Ritchie Highway. Passing cars would be pointing and laughing while I’d flip them off. Yeah, that would have been a Kodak moment!

Once I got my load of materials home, I’d spend the remainder of the day mixing concrete and cutting wood in the hot sun. Keep in mind; this was my “vacation”.

Neighbors were sparked with curiosity and would attempt to nonchalantly walk by to see what I was doing. Most would just rubber neck and then move on. But one guy says, “What’re ya doing there, puttin’ up a fence?” Of course, this happened just as a hit my thumb with a hammer. The Tourette’s naturally took over and I blurted out, “No, I’m building a f*cking launch pad for the next space shuttle!” The guy seemed a little shocked and scurried away before I had a chance to say anything else. Sorry sir, just really bad timing on your part!

I like to think that every one of my projects has a story. There’s plenty of blood, sweat and sometime, tears, in each one. But somehow, they all work out….:-)

KW

Tips

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

I’m not sure where the common practice of tipping originated. But I do know that I don’t fully understand it. When to tip, when not to tip? How much to tip? Is it even necessary to tip? Like life isn’t complicated enough!

I don’t really have a problem with gratuities. In fact, I usually tip rather well. I figure if someone is performing a service for me, I should show my appreciation if I’m satisfied. However, if the service is bad, I think it’s reasonable to leave a small tip or no tip at all. I’ve done this once or twice in my life. And, believe me, the gratuity was definitely in line with the service!

One thing that always irks me is the tip jar on the counter. I’ve seen this at places like Dunkin’ Donuts. And the jar is strategically placed in way that makes you feel obligated to drop something in. I don’t get it. I walk in and buy a cup up coffee for a buck fifty. What am I supposed to leave, a freggin' quarter? Or better yet, why am I tipping Haji the coffee guy anyway? Is simply pouring me a cup of coffee really that deserving of a tip? I find the whole thing annoying, so I don’t usually leave anything in “tip jar”.

Years ago in DC parking garage, a valet locked my keys in my car. When I came out to get my car, in broken English, he asks me if I have an extra set of keys. What kind of bullshit is that? When I tell him I don’t have an extra key, he walks over and says something to his superior. Then, he comes back, I shit you not, and says, “Sir, do you have a Slim-Jim?” I start to blurt out a few four letter words but then I start to wonder if I’m on Candid Camera. My family might be watching and I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself. So, I sarcasticly tell him that I usually carry one in my back pocket but today I left it on my dresser. After about an hour, the valet crew finally gets my car unlocked. Then, the freggin’ moron who asked me for the Slim-Jim, starts hinting for a tip! Can you believe that bullshit? Only later did I find out that, in unlocking my car door, these bozos cut the wires that controlled my electric window.

It still pisses me off so I’m going to move on……..

In the old days, neighborhood kids would have paper routes. Tips were something they counted on when they collected their subscription fees from their customers. Speaking from experience, tips were well deserved for the most part. I can remember getting up on 6:00 on Sunday mornings to get my papers stuffed with the weekly advertisements. Then I’d head out (sometimes in the cold rain) to get them delivered so my customers could read the current events with their morning coffee. I didn’t make much from the newspaper company, so I always looked forward to my tips at the end of the month.

The reason I bring up the paper route, is because today things are quite different. For one, kids don’t deliver papers anymore. Mommy or Daddy have the paper routes today. And they use the little bit of money they make to subsidize their kid’s cell phone bills. And let me tell you something, Mom and Dad could learn a thing or two about delivering a newspaper. I mean, how hard is it to get the paper up to my doorstep?? Half the time, I have to organize a search party to locate my morning paper. I’ve found the thing under my car, in the gutter and one time, up in a f*cking tree! How did that happen? Were the squirrels interested in the sports scores, maybe???

The point I’m trying to make is that if you expect a tip, for God's sake, deliver the service!

KW

"Security" Guards

Saturday, April 11, 2009

I’ve spend my fair share of time in "secure" buildings through the years. They can certainly be overwhelming and confusing at times. And it’s only fitting that they should be safe guarded against anyone that doesn’t have legitimate business there. For this reason, the building owner usually contracts a "security" firm to safeguard America’s well being.

I’m not sure where they get these “security” people, but they’re an interesting bunch to say the least. My assumption is that the requirements for this job are relatively non-existent. Some of the “guards” that I’ve met didn’t even seem to have the intelligence to pass a second grade spelling test. And the fact that these Einstein’s are allowed to carry guns is a bit unsettling!

One thing I’ve definitely noticed is that many of these “guards” like to sleep. I have actually had to wake up some them when entering a "secure" facility. Of course, I’m there on business, so it’s in my best interest to let the “guard” know I’m there. However, if someone was up to no good, all he would have to do is tip-toe quietly past the “guard” and proceed to go wherever he wants (For some reason, a vision of Fred Flintstone pops into my head). I have angered “guards” in the past by waking them up. How dare I interrupt their nap!

One of the best ones that heard was when a cash register was stolen from a "secure" cafeteria. A couple of thieves didn’t want to make a lot of noise trying to jimmy open the cash drawer. That might wake of the “guards”. So, what did they do? They carried the freggin’ thing right past the sleeping “watchman”! Way to improvise guys!

Years ago, I had to have someone “watch” me as I worked in a secure room. The guy who was “watching” me was kicked back in his chair with a pair of sunglasses on. I asked one the nearby workers about this. He told me that the guy wore sunglasses all the time so no one could see that his eyes were closed! You can’t make this stuff up!

When not sound asleep, the “guards” can actually be quite amusing. Some of them like to have loud, obscene conservations in earshot of anyone that happens to passing by. F-bombs drop like rain in April as the “guards” laugh and carry on like a bunch of adolescent kids on a street corner. Sure, it’s offensive to most people. And it doesn’t matter that they’re in a professional environment. I guess it’s their way of diversifying the workplace.

I find it amusing when these guys inspect people’s possessions as they enter the buildings. These “guards” clearly wouldn’t know their ass from a hole in the ground. And we’re supposed to trust them to find a suspicious object? Give me break!

I had a “guard” give me a hard time for trying to bring a screwdriver into a site one time. He told I couldn’t bring it in because it could be used as a weapon. I attempted to rationalize the sitation. I told him that my fists could be used for weapons too. Would I be prohibited from taking those in too? This was obviously too much for the guy to absorb, so he called his supervisor over. The supervisor was about sharp as a butter knife. He explained to me (in a condescending tone) that I would be allowed to take my screwdriver into the building as long as I didn’t take the bits out of the handle. Sure, bud, whatever you say!

The most frustrating part is that you have to accept this bullshit if you’re doing business in most "secure" facilities. I’ve complained about the incompetence of some of these bozos, but I was basically told there’s nothing that can be done about it.

Through the years, I’ve learned to just grin and bear it…….

KW

Fashion Sense?

 

Through the past ten years or so, I can’t help but notice the “fashion” trend amongst today’s youth. Hey, I can be open minded to a certain degree. And I completely understand that “rebellious” clothing is a rite of passage of sorts. Within every generation there is the pressure to conform or be cast out. So, most kids go with the flow….

The 60’s brought us tie dyed shirts and flowers in a haze of second hand marijuana smoke. The 70’s tortured us with bell bottomed jeans and silk disco shirts. The 80’s made its fashion statement with skin tight jeans, spandex and big hair. (A relatively mild twenty-five years of clothing trends, in my opinion.)

But the rising popularity of rap music and gangster lifestyles coupled with fascination of low achievement ushered in a whole new fashion sense in the 90’s. Let's take a closer look.....

It started with the baggy pants. No need to try to squeeze your ass into those size 34 jeans anymore. Just go out any buy a pair of size 56’s and make sure you get them extra long. Sure, you’ll be falling on your ass with every step, but this is cutting edge fashion, baby! Work it out!

And don’t stop with the big jeans. Be sure to get that shirt in XXX- Large. If the store doesn’t have that size, accuse them of being racist (it doesn’t matter if you/they are white or black) and demand that they get some on order! For extra emphasis, call the store employee a fool while you look him/her up and down. This will give you a bit of that "street cred" that you hear so much about.

And even though you’re lazy as hell, pick yourself up a pair of Timberland work boots. Don’t worry, you’re not going to be doing any work! It makes absolutely no sense for you to buy work boots. But buy them anyway; it will make you look hard. And please don’t lace them up. Only punks tie their shoes!

Okay, we’re almost done. The only thing left is to pick you up one of those crooked baseball caps. If you can’t find a crooked one, don’t worry, we’ll improvise. Buy a normal cap and cock the brim to a dunce-like position on the side of your head. Yep, now that’s what I’m talking about. You now look like you have the IQ of a grapefruit. You’re ready to take the world, fool!

Check yourself out in a mirror. Sure, you look like an imbecile, but that’s part of the “I don’t give a shit attitude!” Plus, what did intelligence ever do for anyone? Not only will you be a fool, you’ll look like one too! Put your chest out and take pride in being a dumbass! This is expressionism at it’s best!

Aside from the wannabe gangster big clothes look, there’s another disturbing trend that is completely in the other direction. I’m talking about big girls wearing small shirts. And the size of the shirt is directly unproportional to the size of the girl. (i.e. the bigger the girl, the smaller the shirt.) The girls will nonchalantly walk around the mall with their bellies hanging over the perimeter of their jeans while yapping on their cell phones. They kind of resemble gigantic cornbread muffins. The sloppy look is where it’s at these days!

And what’s up with the kids wearing their pajama bottoms out in public? Are they so lazy that they can’t throw on some pants? I feel funny going out to retrieve my morning newspaper in my pajamas. And here these kids parade around the mall like life is one big slumber party! I haven’t seen anyone publicly wearing slippers and brushing their teeth, but I’m sure it’s coming……

KW

As Seen On TV

Sunday, March 15, 2009

You’re sitting back and relaxing while watching your favorite TV show. It’s getting late and you start to zone out a little. And the show goes into a commercial break. And then, BAM! You leap jump out of your seat as if someone just threw a bucket of cold water in your face! In a confused state, you look around to see what the hell just happened. As you regain your senses, you realize that it’s just that obnoxiously loud guy on one of those “As Seen On TV” advertisements. I don’t know the guy’s name, but he has a beard and he’s always ranting like a Baptist minister. I’m sure you’ve seen him before….

An unseen announcer will set things up with an enthusiastic, “Are you feeling down and depressed? Are you tired of just getting by? Do you ever feel like kicking someone in the nuts? Well, have we got the thing for you!”

Then, the bearded guy will appear on the screen. His arms are flailing and his voice comes across in full volume, “Hi, I’m the bearded guy. And this is your lucky day. In collaboration with German rocket scientists, we have come up with a product that’s going to revolutionize the way you (insert anything you want here).”

Then they’ll show the product du jour performing its miracles. It might be a handheld magnet that’s capable of picking up anything from small screws to large automobiles. It might be an antenna that attaches to your cell phone that will allow you to get phone calls from inside a MRI machine. Perhaps, for people in the New Orleans area, you might need a tube of Mighty Putty in the event of a levee break. And as a back up, you might want to purchase the super absorbent shammy that holds up to 8000 times its weight in water. There are many more products. Let’s look at a couple that I’ve personally seen in action….

Several years ago, my ever adventurous sister decided that she would try something called a Flowbee. Basically, this was a hair trimmer that you hook up to your vacuum cleaner (yes, I'm serious!). My sister figured she’d save everyone a few bucks by giving them a free no frills haircut. I'm sure she had good intentions, but there was no way I was interested in being her guinea pig. However, my poor father decided to take a bullet for the rest of the guys in the family. Although I admired his courage, I seriously questioned his judgment.

I didn’t witness the actual crime, but I saw the aftermath. I dropped by my parents house one day. I noticed my dad in the kitchen with band aids all over his head. As I got closer, I also noticed several bald patches where hair used to be. I asked, “What the hell happened to you? Did you lose a fight with a cat??”

I really felt bad for him. What kind of animal could do something like this to my dad? My father, in a disgusted tone, said, “It was that God damned sister of yours!” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Later that day, I ran into my brother-in-law who also appeared to have tussled with a clawed animal. I started to say something, but he immediatley cut me off in an irritated tone and said, "I don't want to talk about it!"

Last year, I fell victim to one the “seen on TV” products. I have a few troublesome spots in my yard where the grass never seems to grow. I’ve tried different types of grass seed with no luck. So, one day I see the bearded guy on TV hawking the latest breakthrough in grass growth. According to the barded guy, this grass seed would even grow on concrete! It immediately peaked my interest and I was suckered in. I got online and placed my order.

A couple of weeks later, my product arrived. I immediately scattered it across the trouble spots in my yard. According to directions, I should see results in about a week. A week came and went but no grass. I gave it a couple more weeks. Still nothing. So, I called the customer service number to complain and ask for a refund. Of course, I’m put on hold for an extended time. Then I finally got someone from India on the other end. I explained my predicament. The guy on the other end asked, “Did you attempt to grow this grass on dirt?” Well, a stupid question deserves a stupid answer, right? So, I responded, “Well, no. I was trying to supplement my thinning hair, so I planted it on top of my head.” Haji obviously missed the humor and went back to his script and asked his original question over again. I responded, “Of course, I planted the grass seed in dirt. But what difference does it make. According to the bearded guy, this stuff will grow on concrete!” Then the guy says, “Is there anything else I can help you with today?” I respond, “Oh, did I miss something. What exactly have you helped me with up to this point?”

I eventually got tired of it and just demanded a full refund. After all, it was 100% guaranteed or my money back, right? Haji finally conceded but told me that the shipping and “handling” charges were not refundable. Since they shipped me a "bonus" container of useless grass seed, the “handling” charges were about $15. So, for my $15, I got to argue with a guy in India and I still have no grass.

So, let this serve as a warning. If you see the bearded guy screaming about his new amazing product, do yourself a favor and change the channel…..

KW

Honk If I'm Paying Your Mortgage

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

It was the banks fault! The mortgage company should have never OK’d the loan! My realtor made me do it! It was Bush’s fault!

Let’s cut through the bullshit. How about you step up and take some responsibility for your own actions? No one held a gun up to your head and made you buy that expensive house, car, boat, etc. You knew you couldn’t afford it, but you signed the papers anyway. Who did you think was going to make the payments? I put some of the blame on the banks, but come on! A person making $50,000 a year should know he or she can’t afford a $800,000 house! If you’re mentally retarded, I apologize. In this case, I would blame the bank.

So, since the government is in the business of rewarding bad behavior, they’re going to bail out those that defaulted on their loans. Ultimately, it’s the responsible tax payer that gets to foot the bill. I’ve covered a lot of this before, so I won’t elaborate on it.

But for those of you that are using my tax money to pay your tab, I’ve got some suggestions for you…..

How about you come over this summer and help me out with my yard work? You can cut the grass while I run the Weed Eater. After all, I’m a team player. Or how about you clean my pool? And to show that I’m a good sport, I’ll let you buy me a beer when you finish. Bring your wife and she can throw in a couple loads of laundry for me. If you want to make it a family day, bring the kids. I’m sure I can find something for them to do too!

For those that file for bankruptcy and make me foot your full bill, I’ve got some bigger chores for you. My house needs a new roof, so bring some old clothes and a new attitude. Oh, and bring a ladder too. And don’t make any plans for the weekend; you’re going to be busy. And when the pizza guy brings our lunch, make sure you have enough money to pay him. And you’d better leave him a nice tip!

Hey, don’t make me out to be the bad guy. I paid my bills. Why should I have to bail your ass out??? I'm tired of this bullshit!

If you think I sound a little bitter, you’re probably right. But you’re the one that’s going to be cleaning out the litter box!

KW