An Ugly Tableu

Getting home form a hard day at work. I get out of my car and see two neighbors having a conversation. I think nothing of it at first.

It’s only as I’m opening my car passenger door to get my backpack that I clearly hear the woman in the conversation fairly shrieking “You touched your penis!

Some part of my exhausted brain went, “Huh? What?”

The conversation that I heard after that went something like;

You touched your penis, you were in my apartment. You’re a piece of filth! No wonder your wife left you, no wonder your son doesn’t want to live with you. I hope everyone figures out what a peice of trashy filth you are!

The man who was the object of this tirade is using a cane to walk, he moves slowly and uncertainly, due to severe spinal damage. In other words, this guy is probably zero threat to a woman. And God only knows that he may have adjusted himself because of something to do with the injuries.  

I honestly don’t know, I wasn’t there. I can say that occasionally this guy when I’ve spoken to him outside the apartments. I have noticed that sometimes (clearly unconsciously he adjusts himself). Honestly it looks like he’s in pain when he does it.

As I focused on the “Conversation” I could see that he was genuinely ashamed. I could also see that the woman was quite enraged.

Then I really took a look at her and the first thought I had was she looked like Jabba the Hut.

Hell, I’d have been adjusting myself to prevent my penis from crawling up inside.

But then I realized I was downwind. I couldn’t help but notice the fetid odor of unwashed human, with just a touch of yeasty vagina. Yeah, I could smell all this from about 10 feet away.

RETCH

Now I have a conundrum, I can ignore this insanity. Or I can say what I really think, which is;

Damn lady if this broken old man is getting wood because of your fat stinky ass, you should count yourself lucky. I’d imagine there’s been nothing twix your legs that didn’t run on batteries for decades. I’d bet your vibrators are so stinky that you have to replace them every month because some stink just never goes away. I’d never punish my dick by putting it in you. Hell, seeing you naked would make me want to suck cock for free, on the street, in Iran! At least then my torment would be ended quickly by a fall from a tall building.

But I weighed my options, decided that I was too tired and that this was not my battle.

After all for me, very few people I encounter would be worth my energy.

I evaluated the situation for a moment more…

I closed the passenger door to the car, shook my head and walked away.

Neither of these people were my concern. 

In retrospect, I think that it was the shrillness of the harridan, and how closely she was mimicking, so closely the “Group Think” of the feminist movement today. Obviously she thought all men were scum but wasn’t pretty enough or gutsy enough to simply declare she was a lesbian.

Some gay men who never fully embrace their gayness get really weird and very hostile to women and other gay men. Perhaps this was the female version of the phenomenon.

Remotely interesting… Still not interesting enough for me to engage. Perhaps it was simple penis envy… Nope, not interesting enough.

I climbed the stairs to my apartment, unlocked and opened the door, closed it behind me and was immediately cloaked in silence.

Bliss!

I guess that I’m just over all the politics, victimhood, and insanity. 

I did feel kinda bad for the guy. 

But like most men, I figured if he wouldn’t defend himself then I wasn’t going to do it for him. 

Yep, the peace of my apartment was a lot better than listening to a shrill bitch badmouthing men simply because we have external plumbing.

Starbucks Encounters

Starbucks Logo

Starbucks is an interesting place to observe people.

I’m sitting at a small table, waiting for the traffic to die down. I’m blogging, which is also kinda normal for me. But as I was blogging, I thought to myself there are all kinds of stories here. 

There are the usual students, and hipsters. The hipster kid in the beanie on his Macbook FaceTiming on the free WiFi, heedless of the impact he’s having on all the other patrons in the place. 

The disgruntled looks from the other students trying to do research who now have throughput that’s slower than 300 Baud ever was. (You whippersnappers, look it up.)

The annoyed patrons around the kid, as they’re being forcibly included in the kids’ conversation. 

Hipsters1

I’m immune to the throughput issues, because I’m using the hotspot on my phone. I’m at a small table with only one chair in a far corner of the room. The Kid notices me looking at him as he fairly shouts into his headset “I like having you play with my asshole!” 

Ahem, he forgot that the muffling effect of his earbuds meant he couldn’t hear himself and when you can’t hear yourself speak, you tend to yell.

There’s no embarrassment for his part, he’s looking at me with doe eyed innocence, either not realizing that the entire place now knows he likes having his ass played with or simply not caring.

WOW! 


Standing in line

Two people ahead of me. 

Starbucks line

First person has gotten to the counter but has still not decided what they want. Suddenly everything is in slow motion. I’m questioning if I actually need coffee. 

The person finally figures out what they want, and pay for their order.

The next person steps to the counter, “I don’t know what I want…” TIME STOPS! After slow tedious questions and descriptions by the counter person a beverage decision is made.

Only NOW does the lady start digging in her purse for her wallet and a method of payment.

While the lady in front is learning about the merits and growing conditions of Columbian coffee beans, (Which by the way she didn’t buy) Another lady is behind me.

And she’s stepping into my personal space, on my left, then on my right, then on my left, then on my right and she’s bumping me in the process.  All this un-necessary motion in close proximity activates my security instincts.

I turn to carefully look this woman over. I mean carefully, with intensity and precision. 

“What are you a perv,” she asks annoyed at the attention.

“No, I’m just making sure you don’t have a bomb vest on, since you’re obviously agitated, in a rush, and had NO PROBLEM trying to bum rush me out of your way. DO YOU WANT TO GO AHEAD OF ME?” I replied firmly.

Now “crazy lady” is looking at me like I’ve got two heads.  Hey, as far as I’m concerned her opening line about my being a perv was intended to be shocking. So I replied in kind and I think I trumped her

The lady at the counter is still getting her education about coffee beans. 

Crazy Starbucks Lady.

“I’m an American!”

“As am I, ma’m, however apparently I’ve got much better manners and understanding of “waiting in line” social etiquette, than you do.”

“I repeat, do you want to go ahead of me? Honestly, your invasion of my personal space and obvious impatience is putting me very much on edge.”

She blinked like I’d slapped her.

“Uh no.”

“As you wish.”

I turned back to the counter. The lady ahead of us having now completed her coffee bean education, digs into her purse for her wallet… Sigh.


Placing orders.

your order please

My turn: “Cafe Mocha, no whip.” I flash my Starbucks App barcode at the scanner and I’m on my way to the pickup station. Before I get to the pickup station, my phone vibrates telling me that the purchase receipt has arrived.

“Crazy Lady” is asking questions about the coffee drinks… Four minutes later, Cafe Mocha in hand, I’m heading out the door. The line too is out the door, “Crazy Lady” is only now digging in her purse for her wallet…  

There oughta be two lines. One for those of us who know what the hell we want, and another for those who don’t know what they want, and aren’t organized enough to have their method of payment ready.

I know you can place your order on-line, I’m just enough of a luddite I still like having the interaction. 

I’d like the lines…

If you get in the “I know what I want line,” and don’t have your order and payment ready, you get asked to step to the other line.

10 Seconds! That’s all you get, If you don’t have your cash out, or payment thing ready, your order is canceled and you’re asked to step to the back of the other line. 

Fitting punishment, I’d say.


Sitting at a table

Starbucks Table

When I sit at a Starbucks table, I like to hang out, out of the main flow of people.

I’m often working on a book or a blog, or coding something on a website. Generally, I can shut out the hustle and bustle around me as white noise and be in my own little world.

Sometimes though, my attention is drawn to the mini-dramas playing out in the rest of the place.

The crying child. The angry person on their phone. The older person having their first experience with Starbucks. The students, and hipsters grooving to their own beats. The gaudy dude in the tasteless suit wearing fake diamonds bigger than the Hope diamond in his ears, and the cheap flashy Rolex knock-off. (Dude, here’s a hint, we know it’s all fake because of your shoes and the POS beater car we saw you get out of.) The homeless guy outside on the patio trying to stay out of the wind and find a little shade drinking the left-overs, and getting a little charity from the occasional good soul.

Starbucks Crowd

It’s a cross section of humanity, and very often an interesting mélange of people. There’s a texture to the people at Starbucks, with some variations dependent on region, all Starbucks are the same.

The mélange of people is essentially the same, and when you’ve been in enough Starbucks you start to think you’re seeing even the same individuals in every store.

So much for originality or uniqueness! 


Relaxation

Crowd1

Sitting there doing my thing and tuning in and out of the mini dramas is strangely relaxing for me.

I’ve never run into anyone I actually knew at a Starbucks. Everyone in the place are strangers. I get to engage in judgement without guilt.

Starbucks mini dramas provide material for my writing. I think I’m relieved that I don’t actually have to live all of the drama to get a feel for what it’s about.

I think I’m relaxed because I’m reminded that my problems aren’t unique, and my focus is expanded beyond my immediate crisis. 

What’s that old saying?

Misery loves company…

Published without further comment…

 

Saudi cleric calls chess ‘work of the devil,’ issues fatwa

Saudi Arabia’s top Muslim cleric has issued a fatwa against chess, saying it is like gambling and is forbidden by God. The mufti said the game was a waste of time and stirred enmity among people.

“Chess is like alcohol and gambling that God has forbidden,” Saudi Arabia’s Grand Mufti Sheikh Abdel-Aziz al-Sheikh announced in one of his broadcasts that has appeared frequently in the last months.

The cleric expressed his views in a Saudi religious television channel called Almajd.

Chess buffs in the country said they were upset by the mufti’s statement. “The mufti has no background about chess and its modern systems,” Moussa Bandr, an official of the Saudi Chess Association, told journalists of the dpa news agency.

“This fatwa could open the door for the religious police in the kingdom to have a legal reason for stopping us from organizing chess tournaments,” Bandr said, adding that a chess event had begun on Friday in Mecca without any problems.

Meanwhile, chess mogul Garry Kasparov came to the rescue, condemning the fatwa and demanding that Riyadh concentrate more on human rights and democracy.

Chess is popular in Saudi Arabia, where men play the game at home or in coffee houses. Riyadh follows a very strict interpretation of Islam called Wahhabism which imposes strict restrictions, including the segregation of men and women in public and a ban on women’s driving.
mg/bw (dpa, AFP)
– via DW.COM

Except to say this is one of many ways to make sure your people continue to wallow in irrationality and illogic.

 

People are unbelievable

DSC 0887Weekend two of the snow players.

Sigh!

Yesterday wasn’t too bad, but today as been a mess. One of the local forums describes the current condition of the snow, as “Ghetto Snow”.

Ghetto Snow is snow that’s a nasty combination of ice, dirt, and god only knows what else.

I know my dogs have added their own unique colors to the snow. <ahem>

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Today things are going too far. We’ve got people driving up into our neighborhoods onto side streets, (Streets that we’ve cleared in many cases BY HAND) then they start loading the snow, (OH, NOW YOU WANT TO HELP?) from our yards into their vehicles.

IMG 0590

Yeah, they park half off the street, half in our yard, then start digging randomly in our yards with absolutely no idea what is under the snow, of course they’re only interested in the clean snow from the middle of our yards.  All the while their kids are making snow men and having snowball fights elsewhere on our property.

WTF?

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The sheriff and CHP are apparently hanging around just waiting to write tickets.Their response time has been absolutely astounding!

Either of those LEOs are welcome at my place anytime. I’ll happily make coffee, hot chocolate and whatever other yummies I have on hand for them.

That’s not an offer of bribery, that’s me saying THANK YOU to folks whose jobs must be really tough to do, and me demonstrating my heartfelt appreciation for them doing that job.

I was standing on my deck taking pictures of yet another carload of morons who flew up my DEAD END street.

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They race up the street only to slam on their brakes when they realize that they can’t go any further and are in fact sliding backwards on ice into some random obstruction.

I’ve come to enjoy the distinctive high pitched whine of tires spinning on ice punctuated  by the equally distinctive “clunk-crunch-tinkle,” of plastic and/or glass connecting with rocks or trees.

This particular car load of morons was lucky, their front tires found purchase on a small portion of pavement exposed by the last 25 morons spinning their tires in the exact same spot. But I made sure that the fat nasty chick who got out of the passenger side of the car could hear me laughing.

DSC 0873

Anyhow, as I’m standing there, I see someone else snatching a shovel from my neighbors yard. They didn’t ask, they just took it. I called out, they ignored me, I called out again and then my neighbor came out and started yelling too.

First, these people tried to act like they didn’t know what we were talking about while holding the shovel then they acted like they didn’t understand English. My neighbor stepped out the door and started down off the porch.

The shovel was run back over to the spot it had been removed from.

My neighbor grabbed it and locked it in his garage. The people all hopped in their car and drove away.

This is why so many of us are wanting access to the residential areas restricted. The problem is that it would take a ton of man power to prevent the snow players getting to the residential areas because almost every street opens onto one of the main arteries through town. The main arteries all connect to two bigger arteries that lead to the freeway.

While it would be easy to block off those streets, once people got past those choke points we couldn’t control them throughout the town.

I love what happens when the Sheriff’s Deputy pulls up. All these people scatter like cockroaches in a cheap apartment.

It’s going to be a very long winter.

We wouldn’t mind so much but people are just so damn ill mannered. They don’t need to be in our neighborhoods or yards. There are places all over town specifically set aside for play.  The only reason people are up here is because they don’t want to deal with the crowds in those areas.


I guess I could start charging for parking and assistance getting unstuck from the ice.

I wonder how much of a profit I could turn before an officer made me stop? I wouldn’t be mad at the officer. After all, they’d just be doing their job and technically, I don’t think I can charge for parking on a public street. Or for people to play in the snow that is on country property.

I wonder if I could charge what amounts to a toll? After all the street my house faces is a private street and since the county won’t maintain it and the residents pay to have it paved; can I charge for people using our street? (I should ask some of my cop friends.)

🎶It’s Starting to look a lot like Trump’s right!🎶 AGAIN!

LA-school-closureIn the wake of the San Bernardino shootings, now LA Schools are under threat. San Bernardino Valley College is closed as well due to a threat.

Tell me again why is Trump wrong saying that we need to temporarily stop immigration from muslim countries?

Tell me again how there is no threat.

Tell me how efficient our vetting process is.

Tell me again how crazy Republicans are when they say we need to implement control over our borders.

Tell me lovely platitudes and stories about unicorns and rainbows.

I’m expecting CAIR to blather on about how Islam is a religion of peace. I expect Stompy Foot to tell us that we’re safe here in America and immediately after the words leave his mouth some insanity will unfold.

Just because Trump is strident, in your face, and direct, doesn’t mean he’s necessarily wrong. We really need to get back to listening carefully and thinking for ourselves.

I’d be happy if common sense made a comeback.

You know… It’s still the owners Home

I read this article about AirBnB and couldn’t help thinking if I was doing the Airbnb thing;

“It’s my house and I can choose to rent a room or not to whomever I want. It’s not like I’m renting a hotel room, apartment or the entire house, on a permanent basis. That would fall under equal opportunity housing. ”

If I’m an Airbnb host I’m allowing someone into my house. I sure as hell wouldn’t let someone from Ferguson, MO, or Syria into my house. That would be just plain stupid! The risk would be unacceptably high that something bad would happen.

Then I was thinking about the Social Justice Warrior crowd, Black Lives Matter, and all the rest, and it hit me, “Shit! these fuckers are going to demand absolute equality,”

Given that, AirBNB is probably done in the US.”