Thursday, November 15, 2007

Running with Scissors

I have read this before, and it is sooooo true:

Those Born 1920-1979 ---VERY WELL STATED TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED the 1930's, 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's!!

First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they were pregnant. They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes. Then after that trauma, we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs covered with bright colored lead-based paints.

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention, the risks we took hitchhiking.

As infants & children, we would ride in cars with no car seats, booster seats, seat belts or air bags. Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm day was always a special treat.

We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle. We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this. We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank Kool-aid made with sugar, but we weren't overweight because, WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on. No one was able to reach us all day. And we were O.K.

We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.

We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 150 channels on cable, no video movies or DVD's, no surround-sound or CD's, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or chat rooms....... WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents. We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.

We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games with sticks and tennis balls and, although we were told it would happen, we did not put out very many eyes.

We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just walked in and talked to them!

Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!

These generations have produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever ! The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas. We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!

If YOU are one of them CONGRATULATIONS!

You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids, before the lawyers and the government regulated so much of our lives for our own good.

While you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how brave (and lucky) their parents were.

Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn't it?

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Ok, Kids...you can do drugs AND play professional ball!

Ready to run again? NFL reinstates Ricky

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21086686/

This guy was suspended in 2004 after violating the NFL drug policy the fourth time. Let me repeat that... after the fourth time.

At what point are we going to explain to young athletes that there are PERMANENT ramifications to breaking the rules. I mean, really. So, Williams is suspended, and then goes to play in the Canadian Football League. Wow, man! Serious consequences he head to deal with. THE GUY WAS STILL PLAYING PROFESSIONAL BALL!!

Can someone please explain to me like a two year old why this guy is still allowed to play professional ball, and more importantly, how anyone expects young athletes to take breaking the rules seriously?

Sex of the two-wheeled type

Man who had sex with bicycle sentenced

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2007/11/14/nbikesex114.xml&CMP=ILC-mostviewedbox

So, there is this guy across the pond who was so enthralled by his bicycle, he decided it was time to consummate the relationship.

"The court was told that alcohol was the cause of his problems, and he was placed under the supervision of a social worker and warned that if he re-offended he would be sent to prison."

I would like to think that there was an alternative problem, aside that one of actually (somehow) fornicating with not only an inanimate object, but one that has moving parts that might actually HURT! Now, I certainly do not mean to offend my BDSM friends out there, but a BICYCLE?

Incidentally, I giggled furiously as I read this article. Who needs waterboarding when you can have a spinning bicycle tire?

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Drunken Elephants

Elephants electrocuted in drunken rampage
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21432722/


So, who knew that rice beer can get an elephant drunk? Is there such a thing as tromping under the influence? Can they have their walking licenses revoked? And, WHO pays the fines?

"But, I swear Officer..I only had two (tons) drinks!"

Friday, October 12, 2007

Thursday, October 11, 2007

The Bad Boyz of Blackwater

To make things perfectly clear, I am in no way supporting the U.S. occupation of Iraq. And for those of you who insist on calling our involvement in Iraq a war, let me remind you of something: Congress has not declared War; Congress just let two out of control power freaks with a hidden agenda loose on another country.

However, I am very much in support of out active duty and former military.

The Iraqi government is outraged over a shooting that took place involving Blackwater employees. And, the Iraqi government is deciding to begin governing their country in respect to attempting to actually make rules of engagement for security contractors (as opposed to actually governing their own people). So the U.S. Government has implemented rules for these contractors.

I have a couple of questions here:
1. Why is the Iraqi government suddenly interested in issues involving the deaths of civilians now? I mean, they did not seem terribly interested when the deaths of civilians were the results of car bombs set of by other Iraqi’s or Iranians, or Sunnis or Shiites. Suddenly, they are pissed off at American contractors, many of whom they themselves employ for their personal protection. I mean, really Folks!

2. The U.S. Government, through whatever means they choose (I won’t even digress here because this can go into a whole other litany of soapbox blogging) contracted Blackwater for security purposes (and other stuff, I imagine). As is not surprising, the Powers-that-Be are now throwing this company under the bus. I say this while spitting out the nasty taste in my mouth that tends to appear when spineless people appear in my peripheral vision.

But, I do want to point out that this administration brought in the Bad Boyz from Blackwater, and let them loose to help them in this occupation, and now they are gasping for breath while holding they hands to their hearts and saying “Oh, my! We really should take a look at making some kind of rules for these kids!.” This is called establishing Rules of Engagement. Along with the “If we go in, how do we get out” philosophy of combat, you seem to have forgotten all about this, Mr. Bush.

One of the reasons that people go into Special Forces, Navy SEALS, etc. is because they get to legally play with firearms and blow shit up. Then, people realize that they can do this legally in a civilian force and get paid a whole lot more to do it. They get to go to an unlawful place, make their own rules and shoot guns and blow shit up, all while looking very cool. FOR A WHOLE LOT OF MONEY! To top it all off, our own media (who are ALSO probably protected by the Bad Boyz of Blackwater) call them arrogant. Now, I have no doubt that there is some arrogance involved. After all, and at the risk of being repetitive: They get to go to an unlawful place, make their own rules and shoot guns and blow shit up, all while looking very cool. FOR A WHOLE LOT OF MONEY! I can guarantee that if I was in that position at the age of, let’s say, 28-32…Hell yeah! I’d be one arrogant little prickllet!

I guess the whole point of my little tirade is that I am, once again, disgusted with the behavior of those who represent me.

So as of right now, the cost of this occupation in dollars is: $459,084,636,564, more or less. But, the intangible cost of this occupation will take generations to figure out. Not only are we going to have to re-do a whole lot of respect- gaining from the rest of the world (who, by the way, does not have short memories, as we do), we are going to have to explain how we send in our people, cut them loose to do what they want, and then punish them for doing what we asked them to do.

This all comes down to some basic models for anything. Let me give you a hint Mr. Bush and Mr. Cheney:

1. When you occupy a country in the name of fighting terrorism, make sure to get there first covertly and plant some really good shit so you can have what is called evidence to back you up. Ask any big city cop: they'll show you how to do it.
2. When you send a bunch of boys and girls to the wild, wild, west, make sure you set some guidelines in place. Something like “Don’t shoot civilians” might help just a little bit. I know, I know, it’s hard to tell who the bad guys are, but perhaps you just might want to try. Just a little.
3. When your bad boyz get into a little trouble BE A FUCKING MAN AND BACK THEM UP!

Nuff said for now.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Doctors save poisoned tourist using vodka drip

(http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21219366/)

A guy get poisoned from anti-freeze and ends up with a vodka drip for medicinal purposes. I wonder if I can get a rum drip for medicinal purposes. After all, this creepy little mind needs all the anesthesia it can get...

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

Quote of the day...

Just heard this one:

You are like a velvet painting; You're not real.



Friday, October 5, 2007

Random Friday afternoon thoughts



Ugly people shouldn’t be allowed to talk. I mean, really folks. He is going to say something about how other people look. Really!? No. Seriously?

Sometimes I think that the sandwich part of the sandwich is just an excuse to eat the mayonnaise.

The sound of opening a new tampon is so awkward in the office bathroom. Now everyone knows.

Atlanta is trying to outlaw baggy pants and women wearing sports bras. This is retarded. The average rating for Atlanta public schools is 3.8 out of 10. But yes, baggy pants and sports bras are worrisome too.

I played Millionaire online today…and won!

I wonder what the lyrics to ABBA's Dancing Queen are REALLY about?

OK, that's enough for now....more later. Unless I start cracking myself up again.

...And then I saw this. Sand Ninjas!

55 Fiction Friday

My contribution this week for 55 Fiction Friday (http://wordybitch.blogspot.com/ )


Carefully crafting her answer, she stayed in silent thought for a few more minutes. Her suitor waited anxiously while praying for a positive response. After a few minutes, she answered, “Yes, I will”. Relief and joy showed on the suitors face. “But only if you include the luggage rack, cruise control, and a spare tire”.

Underwire Shank

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21144171/

“Generally, McDonald said, undergarments aren't considered a danger to security.
"I don't think they're considered a weapon, really, the last time I looked," he said.”

OK. So a woman is trying to walk into a federal courthouse and cannot pass security because of the underwire in her bra. I knew there was a reason I always avoided underwire. I mean, when I end up in jail, I surely don’t want to be potentially stabbed by a homemade underwire and duck tape shank. On the other hand, if I end up in jail for any reason, perhaps it would be a good idea to be wearing an underwire bra. Good protection…on so many levels!

On top of that, I could combine the underwire and the eyelets from my shoes to make jailhouse jewelry. OK, I think I have something here. The million dollar idea! That’s it! Multi-use tool, made in jail, from underwire, duct tape, and shoe eyelets. The disguised-as-jailhouse-jewelry-but-really-a-shank multi-tool. I wonder how many cigarettes I could get for each one? Maybe even a Hershey bar or two as well…Off I go to my inventors loft!

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Small sacrifices...

So, it looks like the Incas liked to sacrifice their children: http://www.cnn.com/2007/TECH/science/10/02/inca.sacrifices.ap/index.html

It seems to me that this could be very useful information for those who have unruly children. I mean what a great motivator! We had several attitude adjustment tools when I was growing up: Everything from “Just wait until your father gets home” to “Do you realize how badly this behavior can affect your father’s career!”. But the absolute most effective punishment I could barely endure was the silent treatment. Dad would just spank us and then send us out to play because it was over. Mom, on the other hand, would not speak a word to us for weeks. I would have rather been beaten to a pulp than have to endure that cold, wretched silent treatment that made me feel two inches tall. And by the way, it still works.

So, for those parents out there who are at their wits end because you cannot legally discipline your children in the manner you would like to at times, print this article out, add cool and disgusting graphics and perhaps some creative details, and paste it on the back of the bedroom door. All you’ll need to do from here forward is point to that door.

The only downside I see here is the food. According to this article, the Incas prepared their small sacrifices for up to a year by feeding them better and cutting their hair. I don’t see the sense in that. I think that adding potential starvation diets to the realm of motivational attitude adjustments just might help the situation. But then basements and chains just might be a necessity. OK, I am getting just a little carried away and too complicated now. I think I’ll stick to the cool and disgusting graphics with some creative details on the back of the door. Good luck, Parents of the World!

Government Funding

Friday, September 28, 2007

Mom's words

This is too brilliant! I dedicate this to my sister.

Delicious Anticipation

My contribution this week for 55 Fiction Friday (http://wordybitch.blogspot.com/)

She barely touches me. Not feeling her touch, but perhaps her breath as her lips glide over the hair on my skin. My body takes in a quick gasp of breath as she surprises me with the touch of her hand on my back. The delicious anticipation of the ensuing hours takes my breath away.

I will never enjoy a flavored drink again...

Football-flavored sodas for sale (http://money.cnn.com/2007/09/28/news/funny/bc.apfn.jonessoda.newfla.ap/index.htm?cnn=yes)

I can think of quite a few flavors of sodas I would like to at least think about trying. However, the thought of drinking something labeled “perspiration”, “dirt”, or “sports cream” actually makes me vomit just a little bit in my mouth. I mean, really, folks!

I think that this is just going to have to be saved for one of those famous deck-night conversation where, after many cocktails, we can easily expand on the delights of flavored drinks. Personally, I have delighted in accidentally tasting perfume, body lotion, and suntan oil. Yum! Of course, partaking in the activities involved while tasting these not-so-palatable items certainly trumped the pain of the actual taste. And there have been occasion where sweat was involved, but at that point, it can actually be quite excitable.

I have never, however, though of locker-room sweat in the least bit sexy or desirable. Having grown up in locker rooms, I have vast experience in the smells that are closely associated with a not-so-fresh-right-after-a-game shower and changing space. And, so, to make my point one more time (here comes that vomit again), GROSS!

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

The true art of fighting

Another news flash that just got my creepy mind going...I saw the headlines "Police Question Armless Man in Neighbor's Death" (http://www.wsbtv.com/news/14138164/detail.html). For those of you who might accidentally find this blog, read this blog, and become offended by this blog...too bad. There is a death involved, but this is still just entirely too funny to pass up. And you can always just change the channel…

So here's the deal: Evidently, two neighbors were arguing over a woman. Ok, nothing new there. Personally, I have never argued over a woman... perhaps about a woman, and certainly with a woman, but never over a woman. Anyway, the armless guy and the neighbor allegedly (according to a witness) somehow managed to get into a fistfight. Now THAT’s talent! Personally, if I ended up in a fistfight with an armless man, I would have to run. RUN, FAST, GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE. I mean, Come on folks, how can anyone face society after getting into a fight with an armless guy. I can just imagine what was going through this guy’s (the guy with arms) mind. Not there wasn’t any “duck” or “POW!” or anything like that.

Embarrassing. Spineless. Demented. These are some words that come to mind. Then there are the other words that come to mind as the visual of this fight enters the previously mentioned creepy little mind.

OK, so these guys are fighting when the armless guy comes in full force and head butts the crap out of the “armed” guy. The armed guy dies shortly thereafter. So, the Snellville, Georgia Police Departments is questioning the armless guy to determine if any charges will be filed. If there are filed, I sure do feel bad for the prosecutor who is going to have to convince a jury that the armless guy should spend the rest of his life in jail. I wonder if they’ll have to add bars to the cell so the guy can’t slip through?

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Popsidoodle

Today is my Dad's birthday. Unfortunately, he is physically no longer with us to receive the five million phone calls from his children and grandchildren. This is my first experience of not being able to call him, as he left us last November. I didn't think it would bother me too much: we stopped exchanging presents quite a few years ago. But I am finding myself missing him more than ever today.

Dad was tough on us, so we thought. He was the consummate Marine. However, this man loved his children and grandchildren dearly, and he absolutely and proudly adored his wife. As we all love and adore him.

So today, I wanted to share a little about my Dad (this is an excerpt from his Eulogy):

Almost everything you know about my dad was learned by his example. He was courageous, passionate, funny, and loyal. His love was completely unconditional and without remorse. He was a noble man who always wanted to do right.

His values, learned in the Marine Corps, never faltered or weakened. He believed in his God, Family, Country, and of course, the Corps. It's all he ever really held on to. It’s all he needed to believe in and he passed that along in everything that he did….to his friends, to his fellow Marines, and most importantly, to his family.

He thankfully married my mother. It really was a forgone conclusion. From that day onward, there was nothing else in this world that could break his connection with her. She was his everything, surpassing even the Corps. In the era where people gave up easily, my parents stuck through it all. They went on to create a family and a life.

And the best of him is sitting here with us today. My brother, who carries my father’s noble and courageous qualities; My sister, who carries the incredible ability to reach into and feel compassion for everyone she touches; and me.

My Dad was tougher than John Wayne, and funnier than Jerry Lewis. How on earth can I put into words what my father was to me? "Say what you mean, and mean what you say", "Familiarity breeds contempt", "What comes around, goes around", and especially "I'll do anything once" were all things that he continuously said while I was growing up. And he lived by them. His influence on us, and especially me, made a tremendous impact on our lives. He was steadfast in his beliefs and his opinions.

All his grandchildren adored their Grandfather. They will all hold their memories of their grandfather in a very special place. As much as my brother and I declare that it wasn’t fair, all the grandkids had my Dad wrapped around their fingers. And Dad loved it.

Dad always had a story. Many of which became bigger and better throughout the years. We grew up with everything from firefighter stories to Vietnam tales to the eternal tours of duty on the USS Guam. My favorites were how he won a bet by getting a date with my Mom, and how he got busted in rank for stealing telephone poles from the army.

Summer vacations included endless camping in North Carolina, visits to his beloved Capital (Washington), and who can ever forget the drive to Central America. We will always get to trump everyone for the “what I did on my summer vacation” stories, thanks to Mom and Dad.

All of his stories and adventures will live on through us. He will not be forgotten…he wouldn’t have that.

You see, he is still here with us and will always be. We are a reflection of him.

So this day is yours, Popsidoodle. This world is a much less colorful place without you. Semper Fi.

MSGT Clyde W. Sullivan, USMC, Ret.
Sept. 6, 1937 - November 1, 2006

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

Money well spent

Okay, so I was, as usual, pursing through MSNBC when I found this article: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20581183/. I admit that I did not read it in its entirety, but one comment came to mind as soon as I saw the headline: DUH! I mean, really folks. Did someone actually spend money and time to determine if drug-taking, massive alcohol drinking, non-sleeping, partying rockers are more likely to die sooner than those who do not live such a invigorating lifestyle? I think that those funds just might have been put to better use for something like, hmmmmm, FEEDING SOMEONE!

I think that I'm going to apply for a research grant to find out a few more things such as:

If a person that is sitting still in vehicle that is moving 70 mph down the highway...are they really sitting still?

Or perhaps I'd like to study the effectiveness of 3-month calendars versus 1-month calendars.

Maybe I'd like to perform a study that will help us understand the psychology of using different sizes and colors of sticky notes.

More to come...as soon as I greatefully accept that grant funding to study why some people prefer to play Scrabble over Yatzee.

Friday, August 31, 2007

Rules for Being a Marine's Daughter, Part I

In reference to the blog entitled “Rules for Dating a Marine’s Daughter” found at http://sgtredline.blogspot.com/2007/08/rules-for-dating-marines-daughter.html, here are my thoughts in respect to being that Marine's daughter:

Dad,
Don't forget that you are the person who taught me how to put a man in a fetal position with his eyes simultaneously bulging out of socket while rivers of tears stream down his face. This maneuver is called “swiftly kick him in the balls, honey”

You also taught my brother “the stare”. Yes, there is such a look that can come from my older brother that will not only terrify this prospective date, but will leave him having nightmares of the like that will require many thousands of dollars of therapy over the next twenty or so years.

You are the one, my dear father, who requires me to always carry that backpack full of duct tape, mace spray, and that wonderful little M1911A1 that you so carefully taught me to fire, accepting only expert scoring.

Don’t forget about career day at school Mr. TheGreatSantini, when you showed up in uniform and required all students to speak only when spoken to, sit correctly at their desks, and smile when ordered to…all in your best screaming- spitting-in-your-face-butting-your-hat-on-the forehead-Drill-Instructor voice (by the way, where did you get the Smokey bear cover?).

In all honesty, Dear Old Dad, I really appreciate your careful scrutiny of all those I wish to become involved with. And you were right when you explained to me (at 18) that no one will ever intimidate me again (boy, my drill instructors really appreciated that when it was my turn to vacation in Parris Island). But really, can you please stop bragging to my potential suitors that I can kill them 101 ways with a skilcraft U.S. Government issued ballpoint pen?

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

NASA to begin drug testing astronauts

Refer to http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20495534/ for the full story. As usual, my creepy little brain is finding humor in something like this. Hmmm....who else gets drug tested for their job?

Truck drivers...drive big trucks I can see the sense in that

Athletes...okay, still makes sense...keeps the competition honest

Production Assembly workers....big machines, makes sense

Politicians....some of them need large quantities of drugs, on the other hand, they make decisions while representing me....ok, makes sense

Astronauts...drive big giant rockets that cost our country gazillions of dollars. Can astronauts get DUIIS (Driving under the influence in Space)? If so, what happens? Are their licenses revoked for 12 months? Do they have to perform community service?

"During a Washington news conference focusing on O’Connor’s report, NASA Administrator Mike Griffin said that the agency was legally required to conduct drug and alcohol testing — and that he recently discovered no testing policy had yet been drawn up. He promised that drug and alcohol testing would be implemented."

I have one question. Why do some organizations drug test employees that will only be handling a glass full of soda, AND NASA HAS NEVER DRUG TESTED ASTRONAUTS?

Nuff Said


Nuff said. Bye-Bye Mr. Gonzalez.

Birthday List

Today is my birthday. At least a minimum of six people have asked me what I would like for my birthday. I have a minor issue with this because I think it is awkward to ask a 43 year old what they want for their birthday (unless you are Mom, of course), so I decided to publish the list. Here goes:

Want for my birthday? I dunno. Better pay, the truck sold, a very cool roommate, about $150K perhaps another Chihuahua for Coco. Add to that world peace, happiness, and love. A new Administration, some new shoes, a new laptop, my yard cut, my car detailed, better golf skills, new glasses, hmmmm...

Did I mention world peace? How about curing world hunger, discrimination, ethnic cleansing, and that damned policy the U.S has that allows any Cuban in the country but doesn't take care of the Haitians. In addition to these small requests, I would like a life-time supply of Diet Coke, Starbucks Mocha Light Frappucinos, popcorn, Birkenstocks, Dr. Martens, and Sebago topsiders. How about a million dollar gift certificate to Old Navy. Aw, Hell. For that matter, how about a million dollar gift certificate to all clothing stores within a 100 mile radius. Hmmmm, I'd really like another Mini Cooper (in addition to the one I have with some small changes like a convertible top and other goodies), Tickets to see Antigone Rising, Brandi Carlyle, and Amos Lee. The new Melissa Etheridge album that comes out next month with tickets to see her in concert when she goes on tour.

So, I'm sure that I will continue adding to this little list, but in the meantime, all of you who really care (yeah, I'm talking to you, Mom), you can start with the Diet Coke.

Un-Sensitizing the de-sensitized

I was perusing through the daily news today and I couldn’t help but read the article(s) on the not-so-esteemed-Soon-To-Be-Former-Senator Larry Craig. I was reminded of a thought I had years ago when it felt like when a public person is caught in the act of “lewd” behavior, it just seems to be one from the conservative, right-wing end of the stick. I guess it wouldn’t be news if Michael Moore was caught attempting to perform a lewd act in public, now would it!

I have always found this rather amusing because these are the people who are the extremists amongst us. I mean, some of my best friends are conservatives. However, I believe I can safely say that they are also moderates. Which reminds me of the old “everything should be done in moderation” train of thought? In other words, in addition to surrounding myself with a bunch of people who are smarter than I am, I also like a very diverse crowd. But the people I surround myself with are also thinkers and doers. They all realize that nothing is absolute and there is quite a bit of grey area in just about everything…

So, back to the not-so-esteemed-Soon-To-Be-Former-Senator Larry Craig and the extreme right-wing conservatives. Are they really? I mean, how right-wing can a person really be if he/she is attempting to perform lewd acts in public, taking drugs, drinking and driving, etc, etc. Especially if he/she is a public persona, a representative of a conservative party, or even a person of the cloth. So when you get right down to it, many conservatives are not really conservatives. Or maybe they are conservatives only when it is convenient for them. Hmmm, sort of like those ultra-religious zealots who choose to quote scripture to me in an effort to show me what a devious lifestyle I live. They seem to forget about the rest of the scripture that their life doesn’t agree with (i.e., THE ENTIRE OLD TESTAMENT!).

These are the same people that complain about television shows with gay characters, and how that evil box has de-sensitized our society. I think they are right. I think that they have de-sensitized themselves so much by watching these horrendous shows (instead of changing the channel) that when one of them is caught in the act of cruising a frigging airport bathroom , he by all means has the right to change his story (after pleading guilty to a lesser charge), and claim the he is NOT gay. Yeah, right.

I think you just lost major points from your conservative card, Mr. not-so-esteemed-Soon-To-Be-Former-Senator Larry Craig. Just don't think that when you lose this fight, and you will, you will be greatfully accepted into my world.

Thursday, August 9, 2007

Public Restroom Etiquette

Ok, so let’s begin by defining a public restroom. To me, a public restroom is any facility not in a home. This can encompass quite a large demographic, so for the purposes of making my point, I’ll narrow this definition by specifying only those restrooms in offices. You know which ones I’m talking about… they usually have between tree and eight stalls, a few sinks, and usually a full length mirror. Now that I have clearly defined exactly what type of restrooms I’m talking about…let’s proceed.

I want to address those women who have no idea about personal boundaries. For example… when I am using a public bathroom, I tend to go to one of the end stalls so that I can have just a little privacy. Ladies…what is the deal with having to come into the very next stall, regardless of the fact that there are an additional 6 stalls you could have chosen. Why do some women feel it necessary to have the close-warm-fuzzy violation of my personal space IN A PUBLIC RESTROOM? And then to top it off….SHUT UP! I did not come in here to converse with you. In addition, you are assuming that I even know who you are. Personally, I don’t go around looking at women’s shoes all day just so that I can identify you when you are compelled to sit right next to me in the restroom.

Then there is the “make-up and hair girls”. Here is a hint: If you walk into the office restroom and notice that there is a closed stall door but no noise, PLEASE have the decency to do what you need to do quickly and silently and then LEAVE. You know who you are, Ladies. Did it ever occur to you that that one woman, who is silently praying for you to leave so she can proceed, is attempting to feel a little better and needs some privacy? It should not take you ten minutes to play with your hair and make-up while there is a poor woman in a stall holding it in and waiting for you to leave.

So, after having this conversation with my ever-so-eloquent brother (Who enlightened me with the Men’s restroom rule: The Courtesy Flush), I decided to just vent it out for a moment and remind people that the restroom is not a place for socializing. Nor is it a place to invade personal space. Get in, get done, and get out. Silently. Please.