Headlights
Yes, they are mainly for seeing what you're about to run over in the dark. But did you also know that they assist other drivers in seeing YOUR sorry ass? Say it's foggy, which it is. Say you're driving a silver or white car. Or some piece of shit covered in primer. How visible do you think you are on a foggy day? You're not. No matter what color your vehicle is, not only are you not very visible in the fog, but you're made even less visible by the contrast between your stupid self and the other people on the road who have pulled their heads out of their asses for one brief second and turned on their lights. I don't care if your car doesn't have some sort of buzzer to warn you that you've left your lights on -- which would you rather have, a dead battery? Or an accident that could result in dead people, possibly yourself included? 'Nuff said.
Turn signals
Did you know that the lever that sticks out of your steering column on the left side turns on (and off) flashing lights located at all four corners of your car? Did you know that the driver behind you might appreciate your using them before slamming on your brakes and tuning? The oncoming traffic just might find it interesting to know in which direction you plan to aim that deadly weapon on wheels, too. And when your done with them? For the love of all that is holy, turn them off! Do you never look at your dashboard? Sheesh.
Sidewalks
They are for walking. Not skateboarding, not bicycling if you're under ten. They are also NOT a doggy restroom.
God, I'm getting bitchy in my old age....
18 November 2005
07 November 2005
I Got Nothin'...
But after being sniped at repeatedly to post something new I've got to regurgitate something here...
Let's see. This is the last day of my four-day weekend. I was planning to head up to Seattle to the Jeopardy! tryouts, which I was registered for on Saturday morning. But between the cost of gas, lodging, and the fact that my knees are now BOTH killing me on a consistent basis, I decided to stay home. It's OK, I've passed their test before, so I know I can do it. They'll be back in the Northwest someday, and by then I will surely be financially stable and physically fit.
Have I spent my time off productively and wisely? Snort. Not even. But it's damn fine to roll over on a rainy Monday morning and go back to sleep.
Especially when the real world can suck so bad.
I got an email from a friend yesterday. His pregnant wife stopped feeling the baby move Saturday afternoon. She was due in November, I think. They went to the doctor for reassurance, but didn't get it. The umbilical cord had gotten twisted, then a clot formed, cutting him off from his mom's life force. After a time she gave birth. Gary tells me the baby was beautiful. God almighty, a miscarriage is painful enough, but this was an almost fully-formed baby boy, whose parents were just ecstatic waiting for him. What the hell is the purpose of this?
More joy and festivity -- this morning I see a city bus backing up in front of my house. What the hell? Oh, his passage is blocked by a fire truck in front of the neighbor's house. Turns out it's the white-trash-used-truck-lot-in-the-yard people to the south. The mother's had an aneurysm, "another one" according to one of the kids. While these are far from my favorite neighbors, this sucks pretty bad. Aneurysms are always trouble, but she was still conscious, a good sign.
However, I'm amazed that she hasn't blown a gasket already, during one of her sessions of screaming obscenities at her teenage sons. While I sympathize with the maternal need to express displeasure at the offspring, Jesus H. on Horseback do we ALL need to hear it for miles around? And is it really necessary to use the work "fuck" at that volume, repeatedly, to your own child? I don't think so.
Happy Monday.
Let's see. This is the last day of my four-day weekend. I was planning to head up to Seattle to the Jeopardy! tryouts, which I was registered for on Saturday morning. But between the cost of gas, lodging, and the fact that my knees are now BOTH killing me on a consistent basis, I decided to stay home. It's OK, I've passed their test before, so I know I can do it. They'll be back in the Northwest someday, and by then I will surely be financially stable and physically fit.
Have I spent my time off productively and wisely? Snort. Not even. But it's damn fine to roll over on a rainy Monday morning and go back to sleep.
Especially when the real world can suck so bad.
I got an email from a friend yesterday. His pregnant wife stopped feeling the baby move Saturday afternoon. She was due in November, I think. They went to the doctor for reassurance, but didn't get it. The umbilical cord had gotten twisted, then a clot formed, cutting him off from his mom's life force. After a time she gave birth. Gary tells me the baby was beautiful. God almighty, a miscarriage is painful enough, but this was an almost fully-formed baby boy, whose parents were just ecstatic waiting for him. What the hell is the purpose of this?
More joy and festivity -- this morning I see a city bus backing up in front of my house. What the hell? Oh, his passage is blocked by a fire truck in front of the neighbor's house. Turns out it's the white-trash-used-truck-lot-in-the-yard people to the south. The mother's had an aneurysm, "another one" according to one of the kids. While these are far from my favorite neighbors, this sucks pretty bad. Aneurysms are always trouble, but she was still conscious, a good sign.
However, I'm amazed that she hasn't blown a gasket already, during one of her sessions of screaming obscenities at her teenage sons. While I sympathize with the maternal need to express displeasure at the offspring, Jesus H. on Horseback do we ALL need to hear it for miles around? And is it really necessary to use the work "fuck" at that volume, repeatedly, to your own child? I don't think so.
Happy Monday.
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