F'n Holidays

Life's been really busy. Blah blah blah blah blah  blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

I must warn you, if vulgar language offends you, leave now, otherwise.....................................................

--Fucking Holidays--

What the fuck is Christmas?

What the fuck is New Year’s?

What the fuck is Valentine’s?

Just another goddamn fool here.

Everyone says I should do this,

Everyone says I should do that.

Why the fuck does everyone say,

That I should do a goddamn thing anyway?

There’s a specific gift for certain days,

And a fucking mascot as well.

Who the fuck said a goddamn rabbit,

Is Easter’s William Tell?

Dead trees wrapped in flashy lights,

Loud ass firecrackers starting at midnight,

Shitty tasting chocolates stuffed in a heart,

Why can’t cranberries be a daily tart?

While some are fucking happy,

Others are fucking sad.

Depending on what the calendar says,

This bullshit’s driving me mad!

– by Mark Sicat 12-24-11

Another Sad Story

The suburbs are a wonderful place to live if you like the extremes of life. I, personally, don't live in the suburbs. I live in what's considered a rural area and I absolutely love it. I've lived in the burbs before and I can honestly say that it really isn't my gig. Then again, by some standards, the entire island can pretty much be pigeonholed to be one way or another.

Back on track, the suburbs offer a choice of three (usually) different models of homes, with options like vaulted ceilings, dual master suites, 2nd story balconies, dual or tri car garages, etc. It's really like a combo meal for life. To live in the burbs, you have to have a job (mooching might pass in some cases), you have to have a vehicle (public transit is fine, but you have to showoff your sweet, overpriced, expensive brand ride to your neighbors, so a car is a must, even though like most vehicles, it still has only four wheels and does the exact same thing that any other vehicle does in the suburbs....drive you from point a to point b, c, d & h), then you get to pick one of the three options for a brand new built home.

One your home is built, by the lowest bidding contractor, you are all set to move in. First, you need to pay a mortgage, insurance, home owner's association dues & utilities. Other expenses include planting a yard, furniture, decor, compact fluorescent light bulbs (because everyone knows that they are so in right now), school lunch, school magazines, school uniforms, school supplies, school sports dues, school yearbooks, school pictures & school donations (because they ask for more, even though everything else has a big markup). Don't get me wrong, schools definitely need all the support they can get, but I have four kids now and I am a newly confessed cheapskate.

After managing all the things that need to be done just to live, where do you find the time to vent steam? Some people play sports, workout, play video games to argue with 12 year olds online and some people just bottle it all in. Some of the people that bottle it all in are the "soccer" moms & dads that are so socially acceptable in the public. They go to all the games, practices, rehearsals, plays & school functions. You are usually conversing with them about the weather and coaches. The conversations are usually pleasant and mildly entertaining. All is well until you drive off. Not in the parking lot drive off, but further down the road, drive off.

You know exactly what I mean. Those drivers are the ones that are driving freaking huge SUVs, minivans, trucks & full sized cars that cut you off to get a parking stall 3 spaces closer to Walmart or Safeway. They speed past you on the freeway, cut you off, only to slow down in front of you because the car in front of them is only driving 5 miles over the speed limit. As you're trying to enter the freeway and merge, they speed up to block your merge, as if you stole something from their children. I get it, some people are so frustrated with their lives, that they have to vent out their frustrations behind a moving vehicle. Some people call it road rage, but these people are what I like to refer to as Another Sad Story, or ASS to keep things simple.

Whenever an ASS cuts me off on the freeway, I proceed to cut the ASS off myself, then slow down to make the ASS slam on their brakes. If an ASS honks their horn because they want me to hurry and back out of my parking stall so they can take it, I lay my seat back and take a nap. I then step out of the vehicle and walk back into the building I came from (keeping an eye on my vehicle from afar to make the ASS doesn't do anything to it). I pretty much emulate the behavior of an ASS, whenever an ASS, ASSes me. For all the people with ASS-like behavior on the road out there, please keep in mind that you can ASS some other people, but some of us will definitely ASS you back!

Revenge(d) by Paper

Well, I received a reply from Burger King after my Original Chicken Sandwich incident. Quite naturally, I am still a bit bitter about the whole thing. I spent a lot of time to type up my complaint and have received a "copy/paste" reply letter in return. Then again, I didn't really expect much else.

Cheers Burger King, you may now officially eat it...but don't expect to get another "it" free, it doesn't apply to combo meals....