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6:07 a.m. - 2004-12-28

IRENE AND MABEL MAKE A RUN FOR THE BORDER


Alrighty then fuckers ...

* Strawberry Pretzel Salad has NO lettuce in it. It's not a salad per se and just reading the recipe does not do it justice. Make it. It's good stuff. Thank me later.

* Yes, I showed Andrew the "Santa" tape. I videotaped most of Christmas morning (which is why there are no Santa photos to show you, I only took two and both of those had him turning away from the camera at the last second) and sometime in the afternoon, I suggested we watch the tape because the kid loves to watch himself on videotape. I rewound all the way to the Santa portion of the tape and while he watched it briefly, playing with toys was more important to him than watching Santa tiptoe around the den in a grainy nightshot that made the Paris Hilton videotape look like HDTV.

Ummmmm ... there.



I saw a lady get hit by a car yesterday.

I was taking Susie and Andrew back to Susie's work after lunch and as they got out of the car at the front door, I happened to look to my left and saw a woman loading these long steel rods in the back of her truck.

She wasn't particularly pretty, so I have no other reason to have been watching her other than the fact that I guess I was tired of looking at my wife and kid.

Anyway, this car that was parked across from her car backed up out of their spot and just. Kept. Backing. Up.

First the car bent the steel rods.

Then it knocked the lady over onto the ground.

It wasn't until the lady screamed that the car stopped backing up.

Then, two crackheaded welfare Moms got out of the bad car and acted all "Ohmigod! We don't have insurance because we cain't get any he'p from our baby's daddys and all our welfare money goes to baby formula and imported beer!"

But THEN I watched them as they pulled the car away from the steel rods and the woman and back into their parking space and they were actually LAUGHING.

LAUGHING ABOUT HITTING A WOMAN.

I guess crack can even make vehicular manslaughter funny.

Anyway, the woman was fine although she sat on the ground of the parking lot until an ambulance came, complaining about her leg.

The crackheads stood by the trunk of their car, not even checking on the woman and stifled giggles with their hands.

Even the employees of the business were chuckling about it.

I'm not sure what that says about our society today when people getting hit by cars is funny.

Naturally, I place all the blame on America's Funniest Home Videos.

And George Dubya.

Let's make sure he shoulders some of the responsibilities.



Later in the day, I absentmindedly aided the escape of some nursing home dwellers.

I was going to a nursing home to pick up their piss specimens and as I threw open the door, two women were approaching the door.

Being a gentleman, I held the door for them as they strode out of the building.

It was right about then that a lady yelled at me "DON'T LET THEM GET OUT!!"

The only problem was, they were already out.

Now ... I didn't take a good look at the women as I held the door for them. But apparently, they were occupants of the nursing home.

I'm used to seeing people in wheelchairs and velour sweatsuits drooling all over themselves in that place.

Not two women who walk like runway models, dressed in their Sunday best.

But sure enough, once I yelled "HEY!" at them and they turned around did I notice ... Christ. These women were OLD.

Luckily for me, a nurse came running up behind me and took over.

"C'mon ladies," she said. "Back into the building."

"But we're going home!" one lady protested.

"You ARE home," the nurse said.

"No," the old woman said. "My son's coming to pick me up and take me home."

"No he's not," the nurse said. "This is your home now."

"Well ... then I'm walking," the old lady said.

(Only one old lady was doing the talking. The other one remained quiet, knowing that if you lip off to the nurse too much, you get all kinds of sleepy drugs in your mashed potatoes at dinner that night.)

"It's too cold to be walking," the nurse said, grabbing the feisty one by the arm and leading her back inside. "Now get inside before you catch pneumonia."

The two women grudgingly went back inside with the nurse, their escape plan foiled.

While I received a somewhat-stern lecture on not holding the door open for anyone leaving the building.

I nodded non-stop to assure the people that I understood the importance of letting old ladies fend for themselves with heavy doors in the place, picked up the bags o' pee and hauled ass away from there.

I don't ever want to have to live in a nursing home.

That was just too depressing to watch.



So I've got this New Year's Eve party on ... appropriately enough ... New Year's Eve.

The woman in charge of the entertainment who hired me sent me a list of all the songs they want played throughout the evening.

...All 225 songs.

Now then, in a four and a half hour period (8:00-12:30), I will play approximately 75 songs.

Of course, you don't want to tell the hostess that you're only going to play 75 songs because they're paying you $500 for the gig which means they're coughing up over $5 per song that you play.

Normally, I would tell the person that I will "try" to get to all the songs on their list and they agree that's all I can do.

But.

This woman is asking for some of the worst goddamned songs to be played at a party EVER.

Doubt me, mofo??

Try playing "Kung Fu Fighting" at a New Year's Eve party in 2004.

It was a novelty song during the Bruce Lee heyday of the early 70s. But it certainly won't fly today.

How about Bad Company's "Run With The Pack"? Remember that one?

Neither do 95% of most partygoers.

About 10% of the songs she sent me are danceable and those are the same songs you hear everywhere ... "Brickhouse" and "Electric Slide" kinda crap.

She called me yesterday at the same time I was going over her list and groaning.

She's all chirpy on the phone and looking forward to Friday night.

I broke it to her that her musical selection sucked skunk shit and would she mind if I just do my thing and feel out the crowd and hit a groove and ride it.

She quickly agreed that I'm a better person to judge a crowd than she is and that it's quite alright that I pick out the music.

It's a singles crowd ages 40-65.

Great.

It's time they were exposed to some hardcore gangsta rap for New Years.

Kung Fu Fighting.

HA!

I LAUGH IN YOUR SILLY FACE, KUNG FU FIGHTING!!



Watched "Shaun Of The Dead" last night.

I probably would have liked it better if I had used subtitles.

Christ ... those British people speak funny. Instead of saying "Fuck it" they say "Cock it".

What's up with that?

Do they HAVE to be so damned different with their fish and chips and steering wheels on the wrong side of the car?

Sheesh!

Wake up British people!

We won the war! Start doing things our way!

(EDITORS NOTE: I'm not actually sure we were ever in a war with Britain because I slept through every history class I ever took. However, if there was a war fought and we did happen to win it, I stand by my original demand that the Brits wise up and do things the way I want them done. Dammit.)

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