I dog flirted with someone today. I think that is the term the kids are using these days. Did I do it on purpose? Hell, I couldn’t act that stupid again if I tried and usually I don’t have to try. You have to know I sucked at flirting when it was needed most…high school. The best flirting tactic I had was a van.
So here I am, just me and the dog exchanging typical ‘dog people’ pleasantries with another dog owner. How old is your dog, whats its name, blah blah blah. For some reason the other dog owner told me her dog (female) liked huskies, ‘SHE really likes blue eyes’ as she looked right in my eyes (blue) and smiled. Like a dumbass I responded, ‘uh yea, so your dog must like me too’. ‘She does’. I feel weird, what is happening. Just then Daley lifts his leg and lets the other dog get a big old dick lick. “Looks like Daley likes the older ladies”…the lady was easily forty five. She smiled and asked ‘oh does…he?’ Crap, I just picked up a Cougar. I grabbed the dog and ran, just like High School. And now I am writing about it in my journal, I mean blog. How did I ever get laid, seriously?
Maybe this is just a personal problem, but I just don’t want my taxi driver eating a double scoop waffle cone as he weaves in and out of traffic. It isn’t the fact that he got the second scoop, I cant fault you for that. The combination of vanilla and chocolate ice cream is delicious, but the waffle cone just screams…I don’t give a fuck. A sugar cone, fine. One of those bullshit Styrofoam type cones, no problem. But hell that waffle cone might as well be a turkey drumstick from the renaissance fair. This isn’t just the occasional lick; a waffle cone takes some serious cone to ice cream management.
To clarify here is my acceptable and unacceptable list for taxi drivers.
Ok – Single stack burger or anything from the renaissance fair other than a turkey leg,
Not OK – anything that is in a bowl, anything you would want to lick your fingers after consuming, Mexican food (I would be forced to make a stop at taco bell), food found at a carnival (not because of the food, but I don’t want someone driving me around that just got off “The cyclone” and is now going at a funnel cake).
Food approval list is subject to change if taxi is a mini van or the windows don’t open. Ironic foods are automatically approved i.e. a Chinese guy trying to eat a burrito or old guy eating a fun dip or cotton candy.
Insert obvious statement about how hot it is in Chicago today. Respond with statement about how it is hotter in Arizona right not. Retort with they don’t have the humidity we have right now. Try to end boring conversation with statement about how the lake help keeps the city cool, Phoenix doesn’t have that. Kill the conversation with a reference to the 2011 Blizzard that shut down the city. Become a complete asshole by referencing a blizzard that you were a part of in 1988 in Buffalo that was way worse.
I pulled into a parking spot today and there was a woman sitting in the passenger seat of the car next to me. She was a robust woman and was clutching two ice cream cones. One was almost finished as she took a giant bite out of the cone, but the second one was un touched. Remember…its hot. Immediately after taking a giant bite out of the cone in her left hand, the cone in her right hand caught her attention and her head whipped around. She leans in…eyes get giant…tongue extends…hand moves towards mouth (as to reduce actually moving) and she takes a giant lick…OF HER HAND! I guess some precious ice cream was on the verge of being lost to the heat, but there she was to save the day!
In Subway today there was an employee speaking some Indian language, to which I applaud his intelligence. But someone needs to tell him one of the phrases he uses in his native tongue sounds a lot like ‘maybe I like dick’ in English.
My lack of experience or knowledge on a particular subject has never stopped me from making comment or passing judgment, but now that I am a father I feel that I am entitled to pass judgment. Stupid parents beware; you are now in my sights.
A few things to note:
I don’t like your kids and don’t expect you to like mine.
Your baby is ugly.
The grocery store is my special time and that is ruined when your kids are running around pulling boxes of cookies off the shelf.
At what age are farts not cute? Five week old Emerson, cute. Thirty year old Adam, not cute.
At what age does looking at someone in the eyes and farting become creepy? Five week old Emerson, not creepy. Thirty year old Adam, super creepy.
I am totally fo making social and political commentary through my kids clothing. One day when they are running on the super conservative republican platform for Senate I can release the baby picture of her wearing a pride shirt that says ‘my gay uncles love me’.
Totally off subject. I saw an ice truck this morning with a tag line ‘healthier than ice at home’. BUSTED! You got me dead on. The half urine half water ice I am making at home really isn’t good for me. Bagged ice it is for now on.
Can I make a second comeback? How about a mid term revival in hopes of rediscovering my hatred of people? Well not all people. In fact this specific post is dedicated to two of my favorite fans, yes that’s right, FANS! Audrey and Brandon verbally (one of them physically, you guess which one) molested me for my lack luster performance since February…and yes they remembered that I had not posted since February.
I stopped to think about my absence and for a fleeting moment thought to blame society for their renaissance of common sense, and then I left the house this morning and remembered, people are fucking stupid.
Walking into the pediatricians office this morning carrying my 5 week old baby in the car seat the woman at the elevator…’oh my gosh, is that a baby?’ No Sherlock, it’s a cat dressed up as a baby for Halloween three months early.
At Starbucks this morning waiting for my drink to come up, no one else waiting for a drink but someone in line ordering. The barista pops up with a drink in hand, ‘grande iced americano’. The twerp in line had just finished paying and jumped over and grabbed the drink. ‘He Sherlock, that’s my drink’. (normally I would not have been so quick to kill him, but he just looked like an assbag) ‘oh no, I ordered an americano, its mine’. ‘well for the first time in the history of the world two people ordered the same thing at Starbucks. I just happened to order mine before you even walked in here.’ The guy had no idea what was going on, took the drink and left. For some reason I thought to let it go and then he left his drink unattended at the milk and sugar station. Mistake. I walked by grabbed it and hid it behind three canisters of creamer (the barista caught me and started laughing). As I walked out the door ‘I think that guy stole my drink!’ ‘Sir, sir, calm down, its right here’. His panic attack made my day.
Needless to say, I was inspired to bring a little irrationality back to the world. So I am headed to the grocery store and Target. I don’t need anything, just figured it would be a good place to screw with some perfectly ‘innocent’ by standards. Common sense zombies.
I would like to thank Audrey and Brandon for their loyalty, but more importantly their inspiration to remember just how stupid people are and that it is my job to remind them…not so subtly.
