RTF

The guy in the truck with the This is America.  Speak English bumper sticker has obviously never been off the resort in Cancun and caught a wave of Montezuma’s revenge.  Gonna be sad times for the bigot when he gets to the pearly gates and finds out that Jesus is Puerto Rican and everybody inside speaks Spanish.

CHRISTMAS

What I hate:

  1. Christmas trees beside Halloween candy at Sam’s Club in mid-October;
  2. “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” blasting at volume 20 in every store I enter;
  3. Fruitcake.  (How can two things as delightful as liquor and cake go so horribly wrong when combined?);
  4. Family guilt for not participating in the festivities;
  5. Salvation Army guilt for not having any low bills to put in the bucket and refusing to part with a twenty;
  6. Thermostats set to 80 degrees;
  7. The debate about whether or not to say Merry Christmas. Just say it already; no one really cares.  (File under: too much time on your hands);
  8. Crazy neighbors complaining about the mailman putting mail in the wrong box. (File under:  First world problems);
  9. Glitter.  Everywhere.;
  10. Office Parties – holiday and otherwise.

What I love:

  1.  Cookies.

Don’t get me wrong; I embrace the Christian desire to celebrate the birth of their Lord.  I enjoy a holiday and the reason for the season (read:  time off from work).  I love to have a visit and a nice big meal, hence my designation of Thanksgiving as the best holiday ever.  What I do not enjoy is full-grown adults buying gifts for other full-grown adults as a requirement for Christmas.  In addition, I find no joy in searching for ‘’the perfect gift for the man/woman who has everything.”  Why the hell are we giving more crap to people who have everything? (File under:  RPP—Rich People Problems).  And why the hell do I have to pretend to be happy to get crap I don’t want in order to meet someone else’s requirement of what Christmas should be?

I’m definitely over-thinking this; I should have a cookie.  Merry Christmas, Everyone!

SETTING THE BAR

It’s such a small thing.  Minute, actually.  Simple to do, and it takes no time at all.  Two seconds, five max.  So why do few people do it?

This is what I began to wonder one day as I stood in the check-out line at Walmart and watched the shoppers in front of me as they unloaded all their items onto the conveyor belt and then, more often than not, failed to set down the divider bar for the next shopper.  Why not, I pondered, while your hands are already moving things onto the belt, go ahead and set the bar and make things easier for the next person?  What is it inside one’s head that makes him assume that the next person would set the bar instead of doing it yourself?  Seemed a bit presumptuous to me.

After noodling this for awhile, I decided, about six months ago, if the person ahead of me in line did not set the bar after he unloaded his purchases, I would not set the bar before I unloaded mine.  (Because we all know that one good dick move deserves another.)  I always, however, set the bar into prominent view behind my items, ensuring the next person in line had a clear demarcation point.

What happened next is just what you would expect:  my items rung up with the person’s in front of me until said person declared, “THAT’S NOT MINE!!!” with a perplexed look, as if no idea how my potato chips ended up in his bag of kale.  Then gave me a stare to ascertain if I were somehow incapable of setting the bar.  Drunk? Two broken arms? A (insert gasp) foreigner?  What the hell was wrong with me?

In the beginning, I pretended to be looking for my credit card or otherwise distracted as the reason for me to not announce ownership as soon as my items begin rolling into someone else’s earth-ruining plastic bag.  But as I grew bolder in my “I can be just as big a D-bag as you” experiment, I took full ownership of my actions, and merely stood silently behind my cart looking straight ahead as the cashier, once again, added my National Enquirer to someone else’s purchase.  Side note:  Poor Angelina and Brad.  I really thought those two were going to make it.  Said no one ever.

Anyhoo…  After months of clueless stares, this week it finally happened.  Validation.  And man, oh man, it was sweet.  I was at Aldi’s, which prides itself on a speedy checkout experience, as do I.  The scraggly haired (no, this is not relevant; I just didn’t like the look of it) woman in front of me put her items on the belt and rolled on up to the cashier without setting the bar.  I followed suit without setting the bar in front of me, only behind, and waited.  Then, yet again, the familiar ‘’That’s not mine!!!’’ flew from the shopper’s mouth with a quizzical look at the muffins the cashier had added to her purchases.  Suddenly, the heavens parted, and the cashier looked at her, not me, and uttered these magical words to her (not me; bears repeating), “There was no bar.”

Witchipoo hair looked at me with a frown.  I looked back at her.  She looked at the cashier, again, frowny-faced.  The cashier looked at Witchipoo, smiled, and added, “If there’s no bar, we just keep going.”  Witchipoo looked at me; I looked at her and then nodded at the bar I had set behind my items.  The end.

I would like to say that I saw the lightbulb go on over her head, but no.  No lightbulb, no smile, no apology.  From either of us.  (I will not be out-dick-moved.)  So instead I will say this…

I truly believe that the little things are the big things, and a small kindness can make all the difference in someone’s day.  So I will hold a door for you.  I will compliment your purse choice.  I will help you with your bags.  I will even offer to pay the difference if you are short on cash (unless it’s by $100 like the jag wagons at the Walmart awhile back).  But if you don’t set the bar for yourself and expect me to do it for you, prepare yourself to pay for this asshole’s cupcakes…

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!!!

So, Donald Trump is our new president, and he’s going to make America great again.   I know a lot of people are upset, but I believe it may be simply because they misunderstand how great (pun intended) the changes involved in this endeavor will be.  For example:  I, personally, am especially looking forward to Americans being able to drink and drive again.  Let’s face it, getting pulled over by a cop and sent to jail is a serious buzz kill.  Remember the days when the only thing between a .347-blowing you and your comfy bed at 3 a.m. was the ditch?  We’re bringing those days back and making America great again!  Side note:  God speed and good luck.

In addition to getting blind drunk and behind the wheel (seatbelt-free, I might add), we will once again be able to smoke in public.  So, while you’re getting loaded before driving off for home/ditch, you will be free to chain smoke your Camel Unfiltered wherever the urge may strike.  Remember the days of going out to dinner and coming home smelling like the inside of the Marlboro Man’s chaps?  Those days are coming back!  Too busy at the office to sneak outside and across the parking lot for a quick puff?  Light up right at your desk!  America is gonna be great again!

Got kids?  Imagine never again having to try to figure out how to get the car seat, 1. installed, and, 2. locked around little Junior’s Frito- and Mountain Dew-filled belly!  That’s right:  no more child-protection devices and no more dietary hassles.  We are going back to raising kids on Twinkies and McDonald’s.  You know, if they don’t get killed when you drunkenly veer into the ditch on the way to the drive-thru window.

Speaking of kids…  Many people have wondered what words will adequately explain to the children how a more qualified woman lost the election to a screaming carrot demon.*  I would like to recommend an easy solution.  Use the same words you used before the election.  Specifically, “The world is run by rich, white men.”  Then you can try to stop the hysterical sobbing by adding, “Don’t worry; this isn’t the first bat-shit crazy president America has had (Richard Nixon, anyone?), and it won’t be the last.”  Fortunately, since we are making America great again, you can throw in, ‘’Now quit whining, climb the seat over your brothers and sisters, and fetch your Mommy her Red Bull and vodka; this Beltway traffic is a beast today.’’

Finally, from a technological standpoint, making America great again means going back to a time without Facebook and Twitter.  ‘Nuff said.  Hopefully, this will free up some bandwidth for the Canada immigration website so it will stop crashing.  Plus, I cannot wait for those great eight-tracks to come back!  Side note:  save your matchbooks when they are empty from lighting up your Marlboro Reds in the dentist’s waiting room; you will need them to get your Boz Skaggs eight-track tape to play.

And a quick note to those of you heading to Canada:  I will miss you Snoop Dogg Lion King.  Don’t forget to take your green hat.

So, let us celebrate the election.  And the new president.  And the making of America great again.  Let’s all just sit back, relax, and enjoy the shit show of the next four years.  Well, two years; then the shit show that is the campaign for the next election will begin.

Unless, of course, you are not a rich, white man; then you are doomed…

PS – Thank you to the veterans who serve this great land and the rights therof so I can say dumb stuff on the internet.  Right or wrong, I love this country, and I am eternally grateful to those who protect her.

*Stolen from Samantha Bee

THESE ARE MY HEROES

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Men in pink

 

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Survivors

 

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Young people who get up early on a Saturday to walk, volunteer, or just cheer us on.

 

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Fighters

 

On October 8, 2016, we walked with those who could and for those who could not.  We walked because we have all been touched by breast cancer in some way.  Mostly, we walked to raise money to find a cure, in hopes that someday the labels will be blank and there will be no need for an event.  Until then, we will walk.