A word to my "handicapped" friend from down the block...

A couple months back I published a post detailing the anger and frustration I had experienced when I recieved a handicapped parking ticket. No, the ticket itself wasn't handicapped but rather I was being reprimanded for illegally parking in a handicapped spot. (just laugh, it's good for you)

Well, a couple weeks ago I visited the glorious Arlington County Courthouse and after two seperate visits, five trips through a metal detector that would go off even if I was naked as the day as I was born, 7 dollars in parking meter quarters and a total of 3.5 hours of sitting in a waiting room without even my cell phone to entertain me (they dont allow them inside, and brick breaker is my favorite pastime ever) I was given the chance to plea my case in front of the judge.

After giving what I considered a mediocre attempt at pleading forgiveness of the county for an honest mistake that I plead guilty to with an explanation; justice was served. After speaking to the police officer, who was probably more upset he had to be there than me that day, and hearing that the only reason I had recieved the ticket was because a private citizen (my dear old hag friend) had called in a complaint, the judge took pity on me and reduced my 500 dollar fine by about 70 percent. Needless to say it was worth the trip.

Now without revisiting all the remarks I made about why this old hag has wronged me and probably isnt even handicapped in the first place I will only say this....what goes around comes around and although you probably only have a short meaningless existence left on this earth maybe you should think twice about calling the cops on someone who could have made an honest mistake and has caused you no inconvenience at all and next time just leave them a threatening note so they know not to park in your spot again. A little leniency can go a long way...and a little hate can bring a wave of bad karma....and by bad karma I mean I wouldn't be sitting on your porch late at night unless you like to catch flying objects in your toothless mouth and I wouldn't go down a hill in your wheelchair unless you have checked to make sure no one has tampered with your brakes....Folks, I am just kidding...or am I? No, I am....maybe I'm not!!

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This Blog is like a morning dump after a night of drinking...you never know what you're going to get but it's always satisfying

You know what really chafes my shithole

Vomitrons always chafe my effing shithole.

Vomitron - vom-i-tron (noun): One who projectile vomits with dangerous psi, accompanied by aggrandized cartoon like sound effects.

Necessary conditions: (1) Needs to be in public
(2) Easily accessible, and ignored bathroom
(3) Someone else's house

Example: Last weekend a close friend came to stay at my house. Needless to say we copiously indulge in alcohol and the accompanied side courses. Late night approaches and everyone makes there way back to my apartment. Fine, a great way to save money and keep the party going. After a few rounds and multiple sessions, my guest, who avoided his drunken alter ego referred to as Lionel Jenkins (the ignorant, racist, typical bar drunk defiant asshole), loses all pigment in his face and runs to the bathroom.

Minutes later he exits the bathroom as pale and uncomfortable as he entered. He slowly turns and sits on the couch; upon sitting, he says "I couldn't puke." He then slowly stands and bolts to the bathroom for a second chance. Not 2, not 4, but exactly 3 minutes later he returns with a look of complete satisfaction.

"You know what's really funny"? he says, "When you think you need to puke but you shit instead." Mid sentence he covers his mouth and with the most bitter cacophony projectile vomits over my entire living room.

Now, I am guilty of becoming Vomitron myself. Nonetheless, this shit always chafes my shithole.

You know what really sweats my nutsack....

My brain operates too slowly to reach optimal offensiveness-

on the L train the other day, I see a woman scolding her young daughter on the adjacent train . At the next stop, the woman pulls her child into our car and the argument ensues. Slowly, the argument captures more and more attention from surrounding passengers who are remaining seemingly distant, but very aware of the situation.

The woman screams at her daughter "I don't care how poor we are. We are better than this. Don't take food from strangers"!

As the woman turns to situate herself on the train, her little girl reaches into her mothers bag and pulls out an Eggo waffle someone had earlier slipped into the bag. When the mother turns to find the waffle in her daughters hand, she quickly grabs the waffle and initiates a tug-of-war match for the precious waffle.

The tension shared between the passengers was undeniably thick. Everyone - heads down and eyes up were trying to remain serious, but at any moment someone could slip and start to laugh at this funny- but not really situation.

In the midst of the battle, both the mother and the daughter lose grip of the Ego waffle sending the breakfast medallion spinning into the air... eventually landing on the girls head.

This is what really sweats my nutsack. Only after the fact did I realize if I had said "L'eggo my Eggo" during the climax of the battle, I would have made everyone on that train look like an asshole for openly laughing at what they were silently laughing at. I feel this is a metaphor for life, and we can all learn from it.

You know what really pinches my grundle?

Old people with nothing better to do then make other peoples lives as miserable as their own pointless existence....First, you need some background to understand this one...I live in a townhouse with underground parking for two...problem is we have three roommates with cars. So, one month out of every three we take turns parking on the street. The only issue with that is our street is permit parking during weekdays between 8am and 5pm. So, for the month of October of this year I was coming home after work, around 5pm parking on the street and getting up to leave before 8 to avoid a ticket. Well, one night I come home late and find the last spot on the street between what I think is two permit parking only signs but what turned out to be a handicapped parking space...the only one on our block, that no one even knew was there before I had the pleasure of finding it. So, the next morning I come out at 7:30 AM to take off for work. I noticed a beautiful, shiny green parking ticket on my car. I immediately am confused and upset because I was moving my car before the 8am deadline and shouldn't be receiving a ticket. When, I have the pleasure of opening up this little baby, I notice it's a 500 dollar fine...that's US dollars not pesos....although there are enough Spanish speaking people around that we might as well have both currencies in circulation...but I digress....As I look up and notice the handicapped parking sign that I have never seen before I also noticed a little old lady sitting on her porch glaring down at me with a look on her face as if to say "gotcha asshole". I then notice the ticket was given to me at about 6:15 AM that morning. No parking police are patrolling our roads at that time of the day meaning that this old hag was up prior to 6 AM and on her porch looking for someone to be in her spot, called the cops when she noticed my car there and waited around to see me find the ticket on my way to work.

Now let me say, I don't believe in parking in a handicapped zone, I have never done this before and would never purposely do it either. What I do take offense to is the complete indecency of this woman to take pleasure in making sure I pay the maximum fine for parking in her spot, when I am almost positive she doesn't even own a car! Just to make things even sweeter, I notice the fine can be anywhere from 100-500 dollars so I recieved the maximum no doubt because this old lady made a big stink to the police about it. Now I have a court date to try and pull some leniancy from a judge to lessen the fine, as 500 dollars is a little more than I have to spend right now for a mistake as small as not seeing a sign.

The best part is, she has a steep staircase in front of her house with no wheelchair ramp or any other access to her front porch. This implies she is either capable of climbing these stairs herself which means she is perfectly capable to walk a few feet down the road like the rest of us, or someone carries her down, highly improbable....OR she never leaves her effing house which is the most likely answer....I am considering acts of revenge if I am to pay this entire 500 dollar fine so any ideas are much appreciated....

Who Loves New York?

You know what really grinds my gears? People who watch shows like Flavor of Love or I Love New York. Television like this should not be tolerated. I have heard all your excuses and I am not buying them. The whole concept of the shows are contradictory. The idea that these people are competing to win over someone makes no sense because we all know they will have another season. Multiple seasons at that. They are obviously completely staged. I get angry just thinking about it. Everyone who chooses to watch these shows beyond an initial viewing is contributing to the downfall of our society. The idea behind a reality show is that you can relate to the people participating because they are a representation of the common person. By watching this show and being "entertained" by it you are supporting the idea that these people are accurate resperesentations of YOU. Are you as stupid as the people on these shows? Think about it...