Just Stop It!

I put up with a lot of stupid crap all day long. I am forced to suffer it all with a smile, while the "people" that I deal with act as if they are normal. Well, I am here to debunk some myths about what you should and shouldn't do at a bank. For some reason people have it in their heads that the below listed items are okay, and they are not. Take it from me. And, STOP IT!! (in no particular order)

*You are not special, and neither is your money. Unless you are the Monopoly guy walking in with your bags o' cash and the dog and tiny shoe, it is mere drop in the bucket. So, stop expecting to be treated like Donald Trump.

*If you hand me something that says Checking Deposit, trust that I understand that it means you want your money deposited into your checking account. I'm not an idiot. I can read. I might even get it right without your help.

*Don't walk up to the window, without first going through the freakin' ropes. I know it's stupid and no, it's not a ride. But they are there because the one teller you see and want to walk up to, doesn't want to have to wait on everyone. It's called a line, wait in it.

*Which brings me to a big one. Don't just start walking up to the window, without being beckoned. I see you, I'll get to you, don't presume that I am ready for you. Just wait until someone says "May I help you." I know it sounds petty, but how do you feel when people walk up to you at work, unannounced, and just stand in front of you, when you are clearly busy?

*Just give me the damn driver's license already!! I don't care if God himself knew you when he was a teller at this bank, I need to see it. God isn't here to vouch for you anymore. He left after the last take-over

*If you have two arms and most of your digits, fill out your own slips. I'm not a personal transcriptionist. And, you don't need to memorize your account number to have it on a bloody piece of paper. I certainly don't know it better than you do.

*Don't expect me to laugh at your "jokes" that I've heard 100,000 times. When I ask you how you want your money, answering green or spendable is not funny. Never was, never will be. And, I don't want to talk about the weather, so don't even go there.

*When coming to the drive thru, be ready. I'm not there to wait for you to fill out slips, get out your money and i.d., and all that. You have the power to stop and do all that before you pull up. And, when the sign says three items, it means it. Plus, the drive-thru is not the place to take out a second mortgage on your house. Come in the damn bank already.

So, there is just a smattering of things you shouldn't do at a bank. I could go on all day, and frequently do. But, I think this is a good start.

Death of a Salesman

I was never a big Tower Records shopper, as there were none in my area. But, I was still kind of shocked to hear that they were going out of business. Sure, the tiny independent record stores are dropping like flies. But, Tower Records always seemed like they would stick around.

But, it has started yet another round of "the decline of the music industry as we know it." No one is buying records at the big chain store, so they have to close up shop and go home. Let's all cry a little tear for them, shall we?

I am an admitted music stealer, iPod user and an unapologetic rejector of the notion of buying a crap album at $17.99 per unit. If I like one song, I buy one song. I don't need to buy the record so I can hear the entire "concept" of your album. It was streaming on myspace, AOL, or some other venue and I heard every crappy word. And, if it wasn't, I can listen to it at my nearest Borders. So, to Metallica, Kid Rock and everyone else who thinks their music must be enjoyed 12-15 songs at a time, I say this. You. Are. Wrong. Sorry, but that is a fact, and it is not going to change.

Back in the day, when cassettes ruled, we all had mix tapes. We made them for friends, we shared them and yes, we stole songs from the radio. So, the technology has improved and digital music rules the day. I trust all those mix tape people have sent the artists their money for stealing back then. Of course not. But, now the music biz has to fight for every cent. Could it be that albums sales are down not only because people are buying on iTunes, but because it's just not worth it? Mainstream music just sucks. Sorry.

I know, I know, stealing is wrong. But, so much of the music that is out there today is wrong too. Extremely wrong. And, can someone tell me why I can buy DVD's at the supermarket for $4, but I am still paying $15-$17 for an album that came out in the early 90's? It just doesn't make sense (didn't feel the need for the pun there). Music shouldn't cost so much. Bottom line. It just shouldn't. And, until someone can justify it to me, I'm not going to pay it. I buy mainstream CD's by trading in old CD's. It the ultimate recycling. And, if there is a small band I like, I buy the record, for several reasons. One, because they need my money more than Janet Jackson does. And, because I can feel superior for liking better music and because I am a snob. The day I plunk down any money for Nickleback is the day you are prying my Fugazi records out of my cold, dead hands.

So, I don't really mourn the passing of yet another big time record store. I just wish that there was a decent mom-and-pop shop within 50 miles of where I live. Because I would rather support them than a Tower any day. That being said, I'm not above pilliaging a good going-out-of-business sale. Finally, CD's at normal prices. Isn't it ironic? Don't you think?

We Take All Kinds of Pills . . .

So, thanks to an un-checked box on the Ticketmaster website, I am now a proud owner of a free year-long subscription to Rolling Stone magazine. The last time I subscribed, it was around 1992-1994. Back when I actually cared about the people they would put on the cover. Now, well, the last three Rolling Stone covers that I have seen were Jack Nicholson, a wet Justin Timberlake and, the one I have been lucky enough to get, Fergie. You know how I just love her.

It is funny to me how irrelevant Rolling Stone seems now. Sure, they still have some decent articles, mostly current event type stuff. But, the record reviews and the bands they feature, well, they pretty much suck. They gave the new Evanescence (sp? I don't care to look it up) record 3 and 1/2 stars. They gave Paris Hilton 3 stars. And, I can't wait to hear all about Fergie and her meth addiction. Who cares if the talentless have problems? I'm sure they do. But, let's not encourage them to share. Is there really anyone out there who wants to know? The only question I want the answer to is how many people did she bone to get so famous?

But, you can't blame Rolling Stone completely. To be fair, the record industry has offered up little in the way of (what I would consider) decent music. When a product is shit, but by comparison is less shitty than some others, I guess a good review is relative. You can't talk about great mainstream bands putting out great records when, by and large, they aren't. And, if they are, you can read about them in other places besides RS. Magazines that I would actually listen to when they recommend something.

When you consider how much the music industry has changed, it seems odd to me that RS would remain so much the same. Bands have come and gone, movements in music have shifted and been resurrected, and icons have died and found new life in a new generation. And, yet, RS are still churning out issues that bear a startling resemblance to the ones I read over 10 years ago. Not much seems to have changed. Except my interest in what they tell me is cool.

You know, the recording industry is wondering why no one is buying. Look no further than the crap that is "popular" enough to be mainstream worthy (according to RS). It's amazing to me that anyone is buying this shit at all. But, that's another post for another day.

How Pimped is too Pimped?

I was home sick from work the last two days, and I got the chance to catch some great daytime television I usually miss. I hadn't seen "Pimp my Ride" on MTV in a while. I used to love that show, where they'd take your hooptie, and make it well, a really updated hooptie. But, I'm starting to think they've gone too far.

The boy on the show had a crap-ass Suburban, and so they "pimped" it, and now instead of a back seat, he has a 6000 watt stereo and speaker system. They also put 7'' monitors on his mudflaps. MUDFLAPS? Who the fuck is going to lay on the ground behind your car and watch a dvd? He loved to snowboard, so they gave him a roof rack for the snowboards (since there was no more trunk space) and don't worry, they gave him a snowboard, with a 7'' monitor on it. So when this kid is cruising down the mountain watching a dvd on his snowboard, he can break his neck in style. By the most arbitrary and stupid thing was making his car, make snow. Sort of. It was more of a light drizzle of frozen flakes.

What's next? "We know how much you love eggs, so we put an omelet station is the back!" "Dude, we put 7'' monitors under the hood, so the engine can watch the dvd with you!!" I'm all for useless gadgets courtesy of MTV, but this is beyond useless. At least give me something I can use, like a Dr. Pepper fountain or an iPod that is voice activated and I can tell it what song to play. Hmmm, maybe I should call MTV. Lord knows the Focus could use some work . . .

Big Questions (an on-going series)

*How come when people have a near-death, or out of body experiences, they always see a bright, white light and float up? So, none of these people are sinners and going to hell?

The Cake has been Taken

THIS STORY IS 100% TRUE . Some of the details have been changed, mainly to protect me, but the rest is all fact. Please Enjoy!!

I work at a widget factory*. Sometimes people call us because they feel they don't have as many widgets as they should. In fact, sometimes they are dealing with negative amounts of widgets. So, I got one of those calls today. This man had authorized someone, let's say Ryder Trucks**, to take a certain number of widgets from him, but they took some away twice. This made his widget count negative. He called, very irate about this and asked me to explain how he was so low on widgets. I told him that Ryder had taken widgets away from him twice and he became very angry.

So, I tried to calm him down but he continued. He said he needed those widgets back from Ryder and not only that, but wanted extra widgets to make up for the deficit caused by other widget transactions. I told him that he needed to speak with Ryder to get the widgets back, but he became more angry, saying that they were not reachable. He told me that he was sorry for taking out his frustrations on me, then proceeded to launch into a profanity laced rant about how I needed to tell everyone at my widget factory that we basically fucking sucked. Then he hung up on me.

I was pissed. I even went so far as to cry a little, as I do when I am boiling mad, with no outlet. I went to lunch to cool off. This bastard called while I was at lunch and had the nerve to ask to talk to me, once again, about his widget deficit. Instead, my boss tried to speak to him, and admonish him for being so dreadful to me. He took this as another chance to scream, and laid into my boss and said "Fuck you" and hung up again.

We at the widget factory also have a 1-800 helpline to handle calls. This man proceeded to call them, and (no joke now) threatened to KILL someone there because they would not help him without proper verification of his widget account. Then, it really got interesting. The call center called our security department, who called the police. Then, security wanted to get my account of the widget debacle, and asked if I wanted them to take away his widgets all together. I said yes, because this guy was clearly insane.

Well, I thought that was the end of it, until this jackass WALKED INTO my widget factory. He says "Hi, I'm Douche-Bag***, and I'm so sorry." I say, "That's fine, but you need to step away from my widget making machine now. If you want to talk to my manager, that's fine, but you need to step away from me now." He sat, and I got the manager. He told my manager that he was unprofessional because of his shoe choice, raised his stupid voice a little and then left, before the police could come and get him for making "terrorist threats." Oh well, we gave them the license number and let them do their thing.

In the end, I was dumbfounded. This guy informed my boss that Ryder was giving back the widgets. That is what I told him from the beginning! I am glad, in a way, that he ultimately got his, but am mostly amazed that it all went this far.

So, to all you non-customer service types who ever get mad at the widget maker, waitress, or Indian guy who has the misfortune of getting your call about your laptop, be kind. At the very least, don't threaten to kill them. These are people. Human beings just like you, you big-dumb-douchey-asses. Just because something is wrong in your world, doesn't mean they did it to you. Most likely it is because of a person so far removed from the situation that they will never find out about your lowly problem. So, just know that. And, remember, we can sick the cops on you, dicks.

* Not real employer.
** Not real company involved.
***Not real name, but really is one.

I Heart Jon Stewart

So, just a little post to say that the Jon Stewart show on Saturday night was kick ass. Even thought Merriweather Post Pavillion has the stupidest parking and such, it was an amazing 90 minutes of awesome.

He is so fucking funny, I just want to, well, honestly, I just want to have sex with him. As I said before, he makes the old (yes, old, 30 to be exact) toes curl. Anywho, great way to spend a saturday night. Plus, he taught us all a new way to look at the President's speech patterns. Hilarious.

Good show, Jon Stewart, you sexy bitch. Thanks for making a newly old lady laugh.

30 Years, on my way to. . .

Well, my 30th birthday has come and gone. No major breakdowns, no crying jaggs and no new wrinkles to report. I actually had a pretty kick ass day. And, it looks to be a pretty kick ass weekend too.

I'm off from work until tuesday. Thursday, I got my nails and hair done. Friday, I got to hang out with my man all day, got some great news from Danielle, saw some old friends and found out they are moving back to town next year. Had some of the most delicious food ever. Even got a free dessert from Borders.

Today, it is the arrival of my sister and her husband, bearing surprises and gifts. Then we are headed to Maryland to see #5 on the Top 5 List, Jon Stewart. I am so excited.

So, turning 30 really hasn't been so bad. I don't feel any older. I don't feel like my life is over, and I got to freak out some sqaures last night, so it is all good. Maybe it's just all how you look at it.

Gotta go, my new dining room table is being delivered.

30 Years, and my life is still. . .

Well, this is it folks, in a few short hours, I will be thirty. I've told myself over and over that it doesn't matter, but for some reason this one is a little sticky for me. I'm obviously not above feeling like this life is going by me awfully fast.

There is a quote from the movie "Singles" that I think sums it up for me. Janet (Bridget Fonda) is talking into the camera at her coffee house job. She tell us that she is 24. "Time is running out to do something truly bizarre. Somewhere around 25, bizarre becomes immature."

That is it for me. I don't want to be mature. I don't want to have to stop being bizarre, or weird or "different" or whatever you want to call it. I'd like to say that it is some big dilemma about my mortality or that I feel I haven't accomplished what I set out to do. And, while all that is true, it really does seem to come down to the fact that I don't want to grow up. And, well, 30 is just another step closer to "adulthood."

Now, everyone tries to give you the speeches about how the 30's are better than the 20's and that it's all so great and freeing. Well, we'll see. I feel like maybe I should undertake some major life upheaval or change. I feel like I should reevaluate and assess my life, and see where I could improve things. But, really, at the end of the day, I just want to get rid of my crappy job, find what I really love and be happy. Is that too much to ask for an old lady like me?

"Damn Kids. . . . . . "

Just trying it out. And, you know what. . . I like it.

Back to the Future

I'll be 30 soon(15 days!!!) That unenviable fact is staring me in the face, like the barrel of a gun. But, the funny thing is, it seems like more than ever, everything is reminding me of the past. I have been given the chance to go back to college, my old college, for free. My old college radio station is willing to put me back on the air. It seems that all my favorite bands from the past are putting out new records, touring or both. And, friends from the days of yore are cropping up like crazy on myspace. With all that is laying ahead of me (old age, boredom, mom jeans) it is funny how comforting I am finding these reminders of my "youth."

So, maybe it's time for me to go back to college, before I'm too old to read without giant glasses. Maybe learning at 30 will be better than learning at 18, when I didn't give a crap about anything. Who knows, maybe it would even be fun. If Old School taught us anything, it's that reliving your college years can be beneficial to your adult life.

I know all my 30-something friends will tell me I'm not old. However, the 20-somethings in my life would probably beg to differ. I hate to sound cliche and silly, but college really was good for me. I had my fair share of problems, but mostly I look back on it as some of the greatest times I've ever had. But, if I'm going to be honest with myself, despite the myriad landmines life has buried for me to step on, I am lucky and blessed to have done so much cool shit and lived as well as I have.

All this reflection and soul searching has led me to one place. A fresh start. Whatever comes with the new/old things in my life, I am changing directions, yet again. I may never really figure it all out, but I am tired of worrying about getting it right. For now, I'm just going to enjoy the ride.

The Music of the Devil

If this is the state of music today, count me out.

*"How come every time you come around/my London, London Bridge wanna go down/the drinks start pouring/and my speech is slurring/everybody start looking real good/(oh shit)"--Fergie

*"Do what you wanna do/tonight the world does not exist/no, no, no/move how you wanna move/all my girls work it out like this" --Jessica Simpson

*"I can make it nice and naughty/be the devil and angel too/got a heart and soul and body/let's see what this love can do"--Paris Hilton

What happened to music? God, I hate these fuckers for making me sound old!

Back in my day. . .

In Praise of a Good Fuck

There are a lot of people who don't like swearing. They think it is vulgar and cheapens our culture, making our whole society more coarse and undignified. Whatever the fuck that means. I don't agree. I like swearing. A lot. I'm not alone. There are those that celebrate it. Howard Stern lamented not being able to say what he wanted on his radio show. Athletes get fined for letting the occasional expletive slip through onto live television, but they don't stop. And, I know I wait with anticipation for when James Lipton asks that all important question of celebrities; "What is your favorite curse word?" (in case you are wondering, Jimmy, it's fuck)

One of my favorite places for swearing (and in my opinion, one of the most appropriate) is in music. It is totally voluntary to hear, and in a lot of cases, really helps convey emotion. When I was younger, if I saw that Parental Advisory sticker on an album, all the better. So, I thought I would celebrate some of the great uses of the word Fuck in music.

It is used a lot, that dirty F word. Everybody does it, trying to sound edgy. Hell, there is even a band called Fuck. But lyrically, it has an almost universal appeal. Sometimes it really works. (we'll get to those) But, sometimes, it is just plain wrong.

Case in point: Alanis Morrisette's You Oughta Know. We all know it. "Are you thinking of me when you fuck her?" But, the way she says it, it is just so irritating. It's whiny and gutless. My other least favorite fuck would have to go to Pearl Jam, in Jeremy. "Seemed a harmless little fuck." First of all, it doesn't fit, it doesn't rhyme and I hate the way he sings it, kind of low and quiet, like he doesn't want to say it. I just think it was a needless addition to an otherwise great song.

But, sometimes, it is just great. There are so many great songs that use the word fuck. But, I have chosen a couple that I think just really take it to the next level. And, these are really in no particular order.

1. Untouchable Face - Ani Difranco. Okay Alanis, you wanna know how to do "angry girl"? Take a listen to this one. Her delivery on this one is killer. It comes from power, not bitterness.

2. Killing in the Name of - Rage Against the Machine. Come on. This is a classic. The song just devolves into the "Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me" line over and over. Who hasn't felt that way?

3. Fucking Hostile - Pantera. I don't think I really need to explain this one. While I often find Pantera lyrically silly, this one is great.

4. Closer - Nine Inch Nails. "I want to fuck you like an animal." Who didn't blush a little when you heard that for the first time. (Well, I did, anyway.) One of my particular favorites. All I have to say is, just tell me where and when, and I am there.

5. Fuck and Run - Liz Phair. Liz used to say fuck a lot. She doesn't say it as much as she should in this song, but it is still a great and powerful delivery of the word.

So, there they are. Some of the best fucks in music, in my opinion. But, I think there are some people in music who should embrace the word. Who would I love to hear a fuck from? Well, let's see: Lisa Loeb and Kelly Clarkson, to start with. Don't be afraid of the awesome power of the word fuck. Let it be your friend. By the way, FUCK!!!

Some Time Apart

As I am writing this, my husband and his band of merry men are conducting their fantasy football draft/poker night party. Right now, there are 13 stinky boys in my basement, eating wings and playing cards. I am the most understanding wife in the world. Well, at least according to my husband's friends. (Did I mention there is also an 8 foot G.I. Joe aircraft carrier down there too?)

I know the common phrase for women who are "abandoned" by their husband's during football season is "Football Widow." I prefer not to think of it as a death, as that seems awfully extreme. So, I choose to think of football season as just a little time apart. So, I guess you could say I am having a football "trial separation."

We still see each other, but the rules are much more rigid. We have to create a visitation schedule for the television. No more casual plans on Sundays together. The Redskins become his new "girlfriend" for the time being. They get more of his attention, because they are the "new thing." They'll tease him, and make him think he's special, but I know the truth. And, that truth is that they don't love him like I do. They are just a distraction from his real life. A way to escape the mundane, the everyday. But, I know that my husband is never really going to leave me for them. See, they always end up letting him down in the end. So, when he comes back to me, I am waiting there for him. And, when this whole "trial separation" is over, we can laugh about it. Until next August, when the party comes back through town. I shudder to think. . .

Look to the Cookie

No, this is not some lame-ass Seinfeld reference. It is in regards to the current world situation. As some of you may have noticed, I stole the Terror Alert Level/Sesame Street thing for my blog, and today it went all bonkers after the (hopefully) thwarted terror attempts in England. But, I dream of a day when we as a soceity will be at the Blue/Guarded, or, in this case, Cookie Monster threat level.

I don't believe we will ever be at Low/Green threat level/Oscar. But, I think, if we could just get to Cookie Monster, the world would be a better place. Then maybe, things would calm down a little and we could all be a little less afraid.

So people, join with me now. Let's do our part to keep hope alive. Shove cookies in your face at an alarming rate, and don't forget to sing a little song about it. Otherwise, the terrorists win.

I'm 'apposed to get pudding!

I've heard rumors of The State coming out on DVD, but until then, here are clips of my favorite skits. Awwww YEAH!!!

Louie -- $240 -- LuvSeat

Feel the love.

I Can Only Imagine

*This guy is living my dream. How do I get his job?

Oh my God, Did you see that?

So, I've mentioned it before, but, I've been to a lot of concerts lately. Which by default means, I see a lot of weird and funny shit. Not to sound like some old person, but, things have sure changed since I used to go to so many shows. But, on the plus side, there are a whole new class of interesting people to make fun of. The old favorites are still there, but they have been joined by a new generation of crazy. Half the reason I'm going to these concerts is the people watching. So, here is a short list of the greatest people you are going to see at a show.


*Overly Slutty Girl, with Parent--Now, the overly slutty girl at a concert is nothing new. But, what is new is the presence of a parent with her. Not dropping her off. There is no hiding the garb under baggy shirts and jackets and as soon as the parents drive off, she reveals her slutty wears. I mean, they are with her at the show, and have clearly approved the wardrobe before they left home. This is one that would have never happened to me, as my mom would have never let me don stilletos and a mini to go to concert, let alone stay for the show and rock with me. To that end. . .

*Moms and Dads in the crowd-- Again, this didn't really happen much in my day. Parents dropped you off, implored you to be good, and left, presumably to kill time until they had to begrudgingly pick you up. There was no staying. NONE! Now, they are everywhere. You can't swing a cat at shows without seeing them. And, more scary, are the one's that seem to be there alone. Rocking the concert tee and mom jeans, they are more and more common at shows these days.

*White guy with afro-- Again, these boys existed back in the day (Wednesday). But, they were at home doing math homework, busy trying to think of a way to tell Angela Chase they liked her. (if you don't get it, I can't help you) They were not rockin' the pit with the Goth kids.

*Costume/Prop Guy or Girl-- These committed folks love the band so much, they are willing to dress up in full regalia to show their devotion. This can include, depending on the situation: top hats, canes, corsets, veils, suits, suspenders, flower bouquets, teddy bears, full face make-up or any combination of these.

These people keep me busy before and after shows, as well as during shitty opening bands. So, thanks kids. I appreciate you. Keep on keepin' on.


June 5, 2005 thru July 25, 2006:

Concerts seen: 15
Total Bands/Acts seen: 27
Different Venues Visited: 12
Total distance traveled: Approx. 2200 miles
Average Ticket Price: $28
Partners in Crime: 3
Worth it?: Fucking right

This is War, Peacock!

When describing situations in life that are tough, most people go one of two ways. The analogy is either war or sports. I've decided to go with war. So, if you will permit me the hyperbole, I am going to put my current work situations into a new perspective. Join me at DEFCON 1, here we go.

I am currently engaged in two separate battles, in one big war for domination of my workplace environment. I am up against an enemy that threatens my very way of life with its actions. They don't seem to care who they hurt, just as long as they make their point. But, I refuse to let these coworkers make me afraid, or tell me how to live. Freedom will prevail.

The first battle was started some time ago. It started innocently enough, but in recent weeks has been escalated through a series of attacks and counter-attacks. The source of this battle? The radio. We have a choice of three horrible soft rock stations to listen to at work. I pick the least offensive one that still offers a few decent songs. The others, my foes in these battles for Sovereignty, choose the most offensive one of the bunch. We're talking about Tony Orlando and Dawn here, people. Every time I am out of the office, they change the station. Every time I come back, I change it back. This has been going on at a relentless pace for months now. I refuse to back down, and it appears they will continue with the sneak attacks, undaunted by my brazen daylight counter-offensives.

The other battle is new, and in my opinion, even more insidious. This battle threatens my very soul. The thermostat. Oh, yes. It appears that even though it is 90+ degrees outside, the skinny-minnie-jack-booted-thugs I am up against, still think the thermostat should say 79. I refuse to let that stand, and I turn it down to 74. Again, they employ sneak attacks to make their moves. I, again, opt for the straight forward, "shock and awe" approach of open air strikes. They also employ psychological warfare, by asking me if I am hot at a given moment. If I say no, they take that as an okay to change the temperature. They are sneaky, sneaky bastards.

So, I refuse to give up on either of these fronts. This war will be long, and there may not be any easy way out. But, I can't just cut and run, when things get a little tough. I have to stay and fight. My very survival just may depend on it. At the very least, my sanity and my comfort. Well, same thing, really.

F*&^% those Fireworks!!!

Here it is the 4th of July, when the majority of America is in celebratory mode. And, I find myself in the silent minority. The minority of people who have a deep and powerful hatred of fireworks.

I know this sounds like an odd thing to hate, but hear me out. I used to like fireworks, a bit. They were a special occasion kind of thing. You'd be dragged once a year to a field, or a parking lot, to view a big-ass show. You'd watch, you'd go home and that would be that. But, somewhere along the line, fireworks became this all-the-fucking-time kind of thing. Anything at all warranted fireworks. Other holidays started getting in on the act. Then it was parties. Then weddings. Home runs. Any excuse at all have fireworks.

But, I think it really all came to a head for me the summer I worked for a minor league baseball team. They had fireworks every Thursday and Saturday night. All summer long. So, not only did that mean we had to stay later those nights at work, but we had to watch the fireworks. Doesn't sound so bad? Have you ever stopped to consider what fireworks leave behind after they go off? Of course not. Why would you? But, the day you are asked to pick up tiny pieces of burnt debris from baseball field after a fireworks display, the joy is all but gone.

So, as I sit here, listening to my redneck neighbors set off their bottle rockets, I am reminded yet again of the fact that fireworks are truly the most annoying phenomenon on earth. Color me a non-patriot if you must, Toby Keith. I can take it. But, I still have to say, I FUCKING HATE FIREWORKS!!

Couldn't Agree More

I thought this Postsecret said it all. . .