Home
You bastards. Get your mind out of the gutter. This picture is of a co-worker’s lunch. When he plopped the spaghetti and meatballs onto the plate, two meatballs looked like eyeballs. A little help with an eating utensil, and the smiley face had a mouth. We chuckled about it and snapped this picture because we thought it was funny. Fuck you if you don’t find it funny.
I’m gonna be all over the place with this update. I got a couple of things that kinda piss me off. I gotta vent.
Yesterday, there was cop parked in the lot across the street watching traffic. There’s a back story to this point. The co-worker with the spaghetti face also does a lot of walking and riding of his bike to and from work. The rest of us fat-asses drive our cars everywhere, even to the McDonald's 1500 feet down the street. Anyway, Washington state law (RCW 46.61.235) says vehicles must stop at intersections to allow pedestrians and bicycles to cross the road within a marked or unmarked crosswalk. The drivers of Oak Harbor don’t appear to know this law. Maybe they’re flapping their gums on their cell phone, or sipping on a latté, but my co-worker regales us with a story of near death while crossing our town’s crosswalks almost on a daily basis. So, back to that the cop that was staked out across the street. We actually heard him using his PA speaker to scold drivers that didn’t stop in the crosswalk. Talk about lazy! You would think he would be pulling drivers over for breaking a law… but you’d be wrong. He was ignoring the drivers that were threatening the lives of pedestrians, and nailing the speeders. I guess there’s more money in speeding tickets than there is in crosswalk violators. Fucker.
What the fuck ever happened to manners? I know I’m an old bastard, but I was taught to be polite, and to excuse yourself if you’re trying to get someone’s attention or if you interrupt someone. This includes walking between people having a conversation, or in front of someone watching television. Grocery and department stores are the worst. Ninety-nine percent of people that walk between me and the products I’m looking at on the shelves never say “excuse me.” They just walk their rude asses around like they own the goddamned place. Just last Saturday, some retarded fucker was turning his shopping cart 90° and blocking the entire isle while he compared products. Who taught this dick how to shop?
Finally, they guy I got the broke-dick Lumina from wants it back. Hallelujah! The car is totaled, really. Replacing the transmission would cost more than the car is worth. That spells totaled in my book, but he says he going to get a used transmission and have a friend install it. Whatever. Good luck! I signed that title over fast and reported the “sale” before he left my office. Those cars have been in front of my house so long… the neighbors will think I’ve moved when they’re finally gone. One down, one to go.
