Speaking of cell phones...

An open letter to the Persian guy

who comes into my work

&

talks loudly on his cell phone...everyday.

What's up, jerk? I'm not sure if you noticed, but we're all staring at you. You seem to think it's out of some sort of admiration or exotic awe, but that's just because you're not really paying attention. If you were to give any of us more than a nanosecond of thought as you pass us, knock shoulders with us, or scramble to find a pen and paper from our work space, you'd know that it's because we're perpetually shocked and disgusted by your lack of manners, and you're ridiculous behavior. I'm trying not to be culturally insensitive - oh, but what they hell, you clearly are so why not - but is there some unwritten rule in the ancient codes of Persian kings that says all men are entitled to be as obnoxious and boorish as they see fit? You strut around my store as if you own it, and worse, you're a shitty owner. I've seen you turn heel as you shout jibberish into your cell phone and blatantly stare at my female employees asses. It's as if you think that little piece of junk cell phone glued to your ear makes you undetectable to all of us mere mortals in your presence.

Guess what? We notice. I noticed you walk up and down the aisles of my store today, from 3:15pm until I left at 6, all the while chatting in some dadaesqe foreign tongue - which wouldn't be such a big deal except that you're voice is unnerving and just when we all get used to it, you raise you're voice a notch to just below unbearable. When I looked you right in the eyes today, to perhaps give you some sort of muted code that you were disturbing those around you, you gave me a quick grin, and sat down, whispering what was likely you're lingual version of a toss off.

Now I'm not sure what savvy business deal you're working, or even how important your soliloquay about the every last detail of your day is to whoever you're talking to....wait...are you even talking to someone? Who on earth would allow you to drone on and on about what can only conceivably be an exercise is absolute drivel? Don't they have to personal integrity or cojones to tell you to fuck off? Is there even a human alive who would allow you to drizzle your blather on their day for hours at a time? I'm starting to question that you're even talking to someone.

Which brings me to my closing thoughts. I think you're baiting me into a rage, so that you can freak out and find some sort of financial gain by complaining to my superiors. Paranoid? You bet I am! Because your constant and inane behavior has driven me to my limits. I'm not going to give in to my primal urge to smack you square on the forehead with the palm of my hand, and then, while you're momentarily stunned lean forward and take the largest bite out of your throat my mouth will allow. But I might. Be afraid Cell Phone Guy, I got your number. The next time you start barking directions for the perfect cup of Turkish coffee to some constitutionally flacid bitch-friend, wear a turtle neck - because I'm on edge, and I'm spending the rest of my night filing down my incisors.

P.S. Your kids - they're filthy - and they smell. Probably not an effort to get your attention, but more of a personal vengence against your sensibilities. If you were my dad, I'd wait till you were standing in line, waiting for your latte, and then break my Jones soda bottle on the corner of the marble countertop and stab myself in the face.

A real cell phone call

Cell phone rings...
Me: Hello?
Sexy Female Voice: Hey sexy baby, what are you doing?
Me: Sexy baby? Uh, I think you might have the wrong number.
SFV: Oh, I'm sorry.
Hangs up.
Cell phone rings again...
Me: Hello?
SFV: I'm so sorry for calling you. Don't tell my husband I called you Sexy Baby, okay?
Me: I don't know your husband, you have the wrong number.
SFV: Oh, okay. Thanks!
Hangs up.

Special Report!

I'm sick today, and spent a large portion of the day on the couch, reviewing all that daytime television has to offer. Of particular interest to everyone in the world is that Danielle Radcliffe, Harry Potter himself, is starring in a London stage version of Equus. This production requires him to bare all, and that has the worlds news anchors up in arms.

http://video.msn.com/v/us/msnbc.htm?f=00&g=f3464a7b-f7ce-4107-9e98-272f89b1d2d0&p=hotvideo_m_edpicks&t=m5&rf=http://www.msnbc.msn.com/&fg=

I'm terribly sick of the nations newsmen and women foisting their cultural agenda upon us, and I'm not speaking of the likes of Bill O'Reilly and Tucker Carlson.
I'm more disgusted by those smarmy little assholes on your local television station. The one's who seem to donate 10% of every newscast to actual political and world events in order to bring us the very crushing and damnable news stories of the day - like where to get the best gelato (Gelato! I've never heard of such a thing! You mean it's like ice cream but Italian? I thought Italians put garlic in everything! Ha Ha!) Or better yet, to run some foreign footage of a cow running through an intersection during rush hour, or a turtle that thinks it's mother is a squirrel in Texas. (I guess that turtle is NUTS for his little friend, isn't that right, Norm?)
My favorite act of irony is when they do a special report on how American kids aren't able to compete on the world market - I wonder how they got so dumbed down?! Or my absolute fav - American's are so fat! What are we ever going to do? Then then go to commercial, 3 of the 5 of which are for KFC, Taco Bell, & a very tearfully poignant McDonalds commercial, where a dad and his daughter bond over a happy meal.
What ever happened to journalism? This afternoon alone, I've watched the news media pick apart Hilary Clinton for uttering the words "evil and bad men" postulating as to whether she means her husband, and then turn on her further by going to the anchor person and asking "do you think she'll be able to overcome being a woman as she runs for president?" Well, no, I don't. Not as long as you keep asking that insulting question to each other on the air.
They keep the focus on that issue, which is unethical by the very definition of journalism, by interviewing each other instead of the public. They do the same to Obama about being black.
Today I watched as the crack news force on Channel 3 reported on how Lance Bass and Reichen Lehmkuhl (or however the frack you spell his name) had gotten back together, but now are broken up and are going to remain friends. The anchor then tossed it to the weather man, with some stupid comment, making them both look uncomfortable and ridiculous. It was as if they were playing an on air game of "keep a straight face while talking about the gays". Just shut up and deliver the news, jerk.
P.S. The weatherman doesn't control the weather - that joke was funny from 1964-1971 - otherwise referred to as the First Thousand Times you told it.

What a long weekend. I say that with a sigh, because that familiar depression that creeps in after hosting is setting in. I had a great time with good friends, and only wished it could have been longer and that I could have been in a better frame of mind.
Today I took M. and S. to the airport. One bound for Eugene, Or. and the other to Hilo. That just leaves me and the tribe of animals on the homefront, which is either a welcome quiet or a lonely time, I haven't decided yet. Tonight will be a reclusive one, as Heroes is on, and then the new Sarah Silverman Program.
Sarah Silverman is one of my comedic heroes in and of herself. She says what's on her mind, and her take on how hilarious the most uncomfortable of topics can be. She says the things that cross everyone's mind, and then takes it to the next level - which I can very much appreciate.
Heroes, I like, mostly because I can only keep track of one heavy drama at a time, and this one happens to be it. I like that it doesn't play on the special effects, but more the human side of being a "special person." Everyone out there has had one fantasy or another of being a superhero of sorts, myself included. I don't know exactly what my super power would be, but you can bet that I would be happy to rise to the occassion. Why is it that we have to link some unattainable "super power" to the idea that we could then rise to the occassion? Why aren't we so eager to rise to the occassion otherwise? I have a lot of issues to work out in the coming year, I've decided, and one of those is to learn to live without fear anymore. My biggest fear is poverty, as I've been there and have worked my ass off to get out of it. I remember those long and lonely days when I had nothing to show for a days work, and saw no signs of getting ahead in the world. However, I have to admit, that my dark secret is that sometimes I wonder how much of my youthful spirit and soul I sacrificed to get where I am, and how much will be demanded of me to get where I want to be - whatever that is.
Where do you draw the line in life? No really - where do you draw the line? I'm taking calls on the Hit Line, caller 5, what do you think?

Surprise! It's a 29 Year Old Boy!

This story intrigues me to no end. You'd like to think it centers around a young victim of child molestation by some evil old men who've kidnapped him and brought him to Arizona to be their sex slave. But then it's they who were fooled. Along with an entire schools faculty & student population by this guy who was actually 29. How'd he do it, you may ask? He "shaved his body hair and wore pancake makeup to hide his maturity."
Huh?
http://www.azcentral.com/news/articles/0125faketeen0125.html
So the real question here is who is in trouble and for what? Is it the 29 year old posing as a 12 year old so that he gets, and I have no idea of his motive here, buggered by old geezers buy free room and board? Is it the old geezers, who despite thinking they were having relations with a 12 year old, were in fact having sex with a consenting adult? Was it the school administration, who put their entire student population at risk by allowing a 29 year old sex offender on their roles for months? Or was it NBC Dateline, who should've been in Surprise, Arizona the whole time, ferretting out these jackholes with their internet crime squad?
And for gods sake! Will someone get started on the musical theatre version of this story!?!?

Man Lives to Tell of Shark Biting Off His Head

This was the actual headline this morning on MSNBC.Com, regarding a shark attack in Sydney. They've since replaced it with a different story about a rare shark being found somewhere in deep water. I wanted to put the link on here, but they've changed the headline. I swear it was there.
So this blog, I hate that word, is in response to all of the ribbing I got last night at the bar. No one could understand why I would prefer to sit face to face with my friends, telling stories, than to sit and blog alone about it in my kitchen. I made a resolution to give it a try, but if I turn into one of those internet stalkers or become the victim of some identity crime, I'm holding them accountable.