This One Goes To Eleven

This is Spinal Tap was on VH1 Classic today and I laughed for 2 hours. Great freaking movie.

I've been sick for the last four days, and this was a great way to end a shitty weekend.

Another One from the Idiot Breeder Files

Back in the 1800's when I was a kid, my mom would have kicked my ass if I ever even tried something like this. Apparently, these days, parents like Priscilla Ceballos are encouraging their little monsters to lie, cheat and steal to get anything and everything that their greedy little hearts desire.

I'm telling you, this is just the step between buying Bratleigh a toy every time she throws a temper tantrum in the store and killing her main cheerleading competition.

These are the kids that turn into the spoiled bitches that are always whining "But this isn't faaaiiirrr!" Kids need to be disappointed sometimes. They need to learn that life isn't always fair. In fact, life is usually very unfair.

Oh, and I'm also thrilled that this little bitch and her skank mom will be up here in my neck of the woods to claim their prize.

ETA: They had this story on the local news tonight and the little turd's tickets were taken back. They showed the mother and, as suspected, she was a total skank-bag complete with drawn on eyebrows.

What the Hell Are We Doing?

I know it's fun to look at things and occasionally point at them, but seriously, perhaps zoos are just a bad idea.

I mean, when you think about it, is it really all that smart to take an animal that can easily kill something 40 times the size of a human, stick in in a cage and then put humans right next to said cage?

NO! IT'S REALLY NOT!

What's the Word I'm Looking For?

Oh, yeah. It's WTF?!?!?!?!

According to TMZ.com and pretty much everyone else on the planet, vagina flashing pop whore Britney Spears' sixteen year old sister is pregnant.

Seriously, what the fuck? She's sixteen. She's pregnant. She's a Spears.

I've managed to go a whopping 31 years without getting pregnant. It's really not that hard. Really, girls. You just take a nice little pill every night before you go to bed and... shazam!... no baby!

I have all of these witty comments in my head, but they can't get out. They're terrified to enter a world where the third generation of this retarded family is growing exponentially.

Now, since I'm an adult and my IQ is higher than that of a green bean, I didn't realize, but apparently this chickie has a TV show on Nickelodeon. This is going to be a fantastic example to set for a generation of girls that are already dressing sexier than I ever have in my entire life. Hell, most of them are having sex at an age where I still thought boys were icky.

Boy am I glad my sister in law is having a son.

It's Begining to Look A Lot Like Christmas

Haha, what a cliche title!

But, alas, it is. We got about 6 inches of fluffy snow yesterday (with another 10-20 inches promised for Sunday) and it finally feels like Christmas is coming.

Here are some photos from my one and half hour drive home. The plowing was extremely pathetic for Upstate New York (as you will see from the second photo!)



The picture to your left is the cop car in front of me trying to get off
the Northway so he could either 1- get to the scene of another accident caused by what can only be a moron that forgot how to drive in the snow or 2- try to take advantage of the fact that the Dunkin Donuts is probably pretty empty.






This is just a nice shot of the shitty plow job they did. Please see this post for a reminder of what this highway looks like in the summer, same time of day.





Other than driving around asshats I really do love winter in the North.

Call Me a Snob, But

it makes me mental when I work with someone that has/is getting a "degree" from the University of Phoenix.

I'm a bricks-and-mortar-college kind of girl. I went to a college with buildings for my Bachelor's degree and I went to a college with even more buildings for my Master's degree. I sat in classrooms with people and professors, had to park my car in a parking lot and, when I went to night school for the MBA, had to eat my dinner during the 15 minute pee break (I didn't eat it while peeing, to clarify.)

I work with a girl now that is getting what she calls a master's degree from University of Phoenix. It really does irk me. I want to say, "No, I went to school for a Master's degree, you took out a loan to purchase one."

I don't even know where I am going with this post other than to rant a little about diploma mills. It seems there are so many people getting these purported MBAs from the corporation, and I'm really hoping that it's causing the value of my earned MBA to skyrocket.

Okay, the Amazing Race is going to start soon. Rant over.

Remember When...

Sometimes I have these flashbacks. Not in a PTSD way, but I'll hear a song, or just have a feeling and I go right back to a certain place in time.

Tonight M had to go to some Christmas party thing, so I get the evening to myself (well, me and my little Max!) Needless to say, I'm not going to bother cooking for one, and I've been craving a sub all week, so I ran out and got a delicious veggie sub.

As I was walking out of the shop, for whatever reason I totally flashed back to what it was like when I first got my driver's license and my parents would let me take the car out to run a quick errand. The excitement of walking out of the store and back to the car by yourself!! Finally carrying in your hand a set of keys that included car keys, getting in to the car alone to drive through the streets that you so many times travelled as a passenger. Knowing that, as people saw you approaching you car that they would know that you were a state issued card carrying adult!

It's really hard to explain in words, but for one fleeting second I remembered that feeling as I walked back to my car and it was awesome! I love those moments when something gets triggered in the depths of my brain like that.

The Bridge

This past Sunday, as the disappointing first winter storm of the season approached, M and I decided to be lazy and not leave the warmth of our house.

I have wanted to see the movie The Bridge ever since Howard Stern talked about how great it was. It finally appeared on the Independent Film Channel a few months ago so we set the DVR, where it's been ever since.

In case you are unfamiliar with this movie, it's a documentary filmed over the course of 2004. In that year, cameras were filming the Golden Gate Bridge daily and recorded the 24 suicides that took place in that time. Interspersed with this footage are interviews with the various friends and families of the victims and the people on the bridge and in the water below that witness their desperate final acts.

While the premise seems grim, it is a fantastic movie. It is gut wrenching to literally watch a human being fall to their death, especially after you hear his friends or parents talking about the days, months and years leading up to those four seconds. But these interviews are frank, endearing and eye-opening. You would think that the survivors would be sobbing, screaming about what they could have done to stop it, but most of them speak matter-of-factly. They state that this person was determined to end their life and that, one way or another, their loved one was going to do it.

Many of the victims suffered from severe mental illness, and their families seem to find some solace in the fact that the person is finally free.

I've posted before that I had a friend that took his own life. I don't know the circumstances (the how, the when or the why), but I know that he must have been more desperate than I could ever possibly understand. Suicide seems to be the last hush-hush cause of death. There are so many obits in the paper that read "stricken at home", which many times means suicide.

Suicide is basically death resulting from a mental illness, just as a fatal heart attack is death resulting from coronary disease. Why, in our society of vagina flashing celebutards, is something like suicide still considered taboo?

I think open discussion about suicide, and how it affects the people that are left behind, is so important. I read an article a few years ago (months after we lost our friend) that said suicide is third leading cause of death for people between 15 and 24.

It's 2007 and we still live in a world where mental illness is something to be ashamed of and suicide is something to be whispered about. How sad is that?

Salt

If you live in a place where the weather doesn't dictate when you put your Christmas lights out (i.e. "If I don't do it this weekend, I won't be able to get to my lamppost again until April"), then my subject line is merely a seasoning.

If, however, you spend five months out of the year having the following discussion with perfect strangers in line at the Price Chopper: "Bob Kovachick said two feet. Yeah, two feet! I'll have to get up and start shoveling at 4 am just to get to work on time!" then it's the substance that eats away at your ride and forces you to quickly learn how to maneuver your car over the ice at the exit of the car wash.

Last night we had our first dusting of snow, and it was significant enough to warrant local road crews to distribute a healthy layer of salt on the roads. I am so freaking relieved, because we are due to get somewhere between one and thirteen inches of snow (thanks for narrowing that down) starting tomorrow afternoon. Now that the roads are treated, I have a snowball's chance (no pun intended) of getting to work in under 45 minutes on Monday.

And yes, I have gotten up at 4 am to shovel two feet of snow off my driveway on several occasions. And yes, I get to work on time. There's no such thing as a snow day in upstate New York unless you go to school or work for the State.

Bring it on Old Man Winter!!!

But, The Bayybee!!

In another in the long string of parental entitlement stories, mommies and daddies are now asking that the airlines be responsible for the brats that they, themselves, don't want to travel with.

As if being the last line of defense against terrorism isn't enough, now these people expect airline employees to make sure that precious Bratleigh (or Bratlee if they were 15 when they shot her out) has the most satisfying travel experience possible.

As you will see in this article, Susan Cole and her magical uterus were upset that Southwest employees wouldn't promise to ensure that her twelve year old son would be hand delivered on a down filled, silk line pillow to his father upon his arrival Houston. Not only that, they wouldn't allow him to board the flight early in order to assure that the spoiled brat had his pick of the seats.

I'm surprised she wasn't upset that the stewardess wouldn't breast feed the kid in the even that he got hungry en route.

Okay, here's the deal. If you're too damn busy to travel with your kid, and he's too fucking retarded to fly by himself then he should stay home. This kid is twelve years old. When I was twelve I was babysitting the newborn baby next door at night. I fed her, changed her, sang her to sleep and put her down for the night. I'm pretty sure my ass could have walked on a plane, and then off a plane alone. I probably also could have identified my own father's face by merely looking for it. Was I an amazing child genius? Maybe, but irrelevant.

This is just another case of a coddled brat whose mommie won't cut the cord. Hell, there are kids his age committing rape in Georgia. I'm pretty sure this little gem can manage to put on foot in front of the other, sit for four hours and then foot in front again.

The other part of the article that I like was: "Some parents say they were surprised to get to the gate and then learn that their child's trip would cost an extra fee." Yes, it should cost extra to make the staff of the airplane babysit your kid! Just because you don't care enough about him or her to actually sit on the fucking plane yourself, doesn't mean that other people will!

These people are just one step below the ones that let their kids run around in the aisles for the whole flight and think that the rest of us feel blessed to listen to their monsters screech for three hours while trapped in an airtight container with them.

I'm pretty sure that there are good parents out there, and these yahoos are giving them a terrible name.