A co-worker was walking back to the store last week after lunch when he was approached
by a grown man dressed as a Girl Scout.
Dress, hat and all.
Around Park Square in Boston, freaks like this elicit little but a glance.
This freak spoke to my colleague in passing and said,
“I always wanted to be a Girl Scout. If you could buy a box of cookies you could make me really feel like one.”
Really?
These people exist, folks.
We get phone calls from people looking for K2, Salvia and numerous cannabis alternatives.
The latest is ‘Kush’.
I took a call yesterday from some bonehead that asked, “You guys have any kush?”
I said, “Try ‘Bed, Bath and Beyond. They sell it by the boatload.”
Click.
Dial tone.
I think BB&B sells bath salts too.
We hear you can smoke those and get off with the right pipe.
Christ save us all.
Off to snort some totally rad solid Degree deodorant.
Pass the aaa batteries . . .

~m

It is about this time of the year that my spirit usually spirals seriously downward.
NIN downward.
Christmas commercials that are out of whack with reality and songs that say I should be happy do anything but depress the living shit out of me.
That said, I am fortunate and blessed although I don’t often realize that I am.
I have family.
I have three beautiful daughters that love me and are home on Christmas.
I can hug them and tell them that I love them.
I can cook delicious foods that we will all share.
I have friends that stop by on Christmas Eve to join in a celebration of the simplicity of love.
And yet I continue to bitch about anything and everything.
It takes a very special friend to tell you that you are a total Holiday tool.
And I am.
Why I am the Grinch that I pretend to be sometimes eludes me.
Maybe it’s easier being Grinchy than happy.
Or maybe I have to look at the true meaning of the holiday.
This video touched my inner core.
I cried and had goosebumps all over my body.
He is the Reason for the season.
The sooner I truly accept that in my heart, the better off I will be,  I guess.
Seems I have already accepted.
That didn’t take long . . .

~m

ps. Thanks to my friend GerryM for the video link!

And the angels sang . . .

“Póg mo thóin!”

~m

A guy comes into the store today and says,
“I want 4 packs of American Spirit Yellow.”
We ring him up, take his money and say, “Would you like a bag?”
He says, “No thank you, I have gloves.”
I have gloves?
More like you have a frozen mush of a cerebellum.
Jesus Krispies.
It must be the cold here in New England, huh? (7 degrees)
That would be like ordering at a drive-thru Burger King
and telling them, “I want to eat it here though, thanks.”
A definite WTF moment.
Damn, I encounter far too many these days.
Maybe it’s me.
Not!

I am quite sure that there are many people that live in a fantasy world
and know little to nothing about the real one.
They seem stuck in a time and place where common sense is about as real as the tooth fairy;
a really dumb tooth fairy.
I’m not telling you something you probably didn’t already know but when you run into these jamokes
(and I do, multiple times, daily)
you want to whack them in head with one of those huge Acme Co. (Wiley Coyote) hammers.
Then there are those that are in the real world but seem almost oblivious to the obvious.
I was working last Sunday when the phone rang.

This person asked, “Are you open?”

I said, “Hmmmm, hang on, let me check.” (5 second pause)
“Yeah, we are!” I said trying to sound almost surprised.

If a retail establishment answers the phone on a Sunday afternoon chances are pretty damn good that they’re open, capice?
And I’m pretty damn sure that when I hung up the person was thinking one of two things:

Wow. What an asshole.
Or . . .
Wow. I’m a ding-a-ling for asking such a dumbass question. Of course they’re open . . .

Now and then I have to blow out my retail pipes because if I don’t . . . well, let’s not go there just yet.
I sell tobacco and all things tobacco.
Here are some questions that I am just plain sick of answering:

Q. “You guys got Cubans?”
A. Obviously J.F.K and the Cuban Missile Crisis wasn’t covered in your American History class.
We haven’t traded with Cuba since February of 1962.
A huge mistake for the USA, as we continue the endless Cold War.
We’ve lost out on an incredible island and amazing people but a country governed by Communism will never be accepted here. Long story.

Q. “How much for these bad boys?”
A. You are a douchebag of magnificent proportions for calling them ‘bad boys’ to begin with.
They’re called cigars.
That’s one strike.

Q. “How come these ‘bad boys’ are so expensive?”
A. Ask the new administration, the change you can believe in thing.
Does the word“ ‘tax’ mean anything to you?
Do you ever read a newspaper or anything on the internet regarding tobacco/cigar regulation and the unfair taxes levied against this industry?
You, my friend, are a super douche for having no clue about the things the liberal wing has done to screw up this industry. I won’t even get into the debacle regarding the new  FDA’s regulation of tobacco.
Yes, we can!
No we can’t, my  brothers.
That’s two strikes.

Q. “Do you guys sell blunt wraps, digital scales, screens, glass pipes, Salvia, Black & Milds or Dutches (Dutch Masters)?”
A. Uh . . .  no.
Strike three, douchebag.

Innings over.

For today . . .

I am not, I repeat, not a morning person.
Never have been, never will.
Ask my wife.
Ask my kids.
Hell, ask Bill the conductor on the 6:30am train I take into Boston.
He checks my ticket and says, “Have a nice nap, sir.”
Bill would honestly say, “Definitely NOT a morning person.”
(*should be, “Not a person at all. He’s more of a thing at this time of the morning.”)
Some of you are ‘morning people’, happy, cheerful and ready to greet the new day with vim and vigor.
Sorry, you people suck.
Vermin.
You probably do 800 sit ups before your first cup of coffee too, right?
“Good Morning!”
If this phrase is spoken to me and shouted from the fiddler on the rooftops with verve and effervescent happiness,
it makes me want to do one thing:
punch the face that’s brave and stupid enough to utter it.
My God, what are you thinking?
I’m still sleeping for Christ’s sake and you are seriously getting on my nerves.
I need about 4 hours to wake up.
Why the hell can’t you ‘roosters’ get that?
I need coffee, juice and a personal five-minute sitdown on the porcelain throne before someone thrusts the ‘happy’ shit on me, okay?
Ease the hell up, all you happy morning people.
You’re messing with my head.
I just choose to burn the candle at the other end (as I do a blog post at midnight).
You, on the other hand, have been sleeping for 3 hours.
But do I call you and say, How are Ya! Good Evening!
No.
I don’t.
I may send a totally incoherent email or two but that’s another story.

We all have trolls inside of us that make us act as we do.
You morning people have Richard Simmons.
Us nighthawks?
We have Ed Asner (Lou Grant) from the Mary Tyler Moore show and he hasn’t taken a decent shit in 2 years.
(click on Lou up above for a classic MTM moment)
Take two steps back until my green light comes on, okay?
That’s all I’m saying.
This morning I poured orange juice into my coffee.
Mr. Grant was not real impressed.
I’ll try again tomorrow morning but it will probably be the same.
Epic Michael Fail.
My brain is chemically challenged in the morning is all.
As Huey Lewis once sang, “I want a new drug . . . “

*Am I the only one that finds it mildly ironic that Ted “Chappaquiddick” Kennedy
gave the Obama’s a Portuguese Water Dog?
Kennedy supposedly owns three.
Where were they when he needed them?
Wwwwwwoof.

*Here in the US of A we give free needles to junkies and
charge diabetes patients up the wazoo for the same damn needles.
Huh?
Someone pinch me.
I must be dreaming.

*In Massachusetts, I saw a headline today that read –
Study: Tobacco funds not curbing smoking
Turns out that only $13.5 million of the annual $700 million the Baystate receives
was used for smoking cessation programs.
Well, yank my doodle, it’s a dandy.
You gotta be kidding me.
Where’s Nancy ‘MadDog’ Lugosi?

I mean Pelosi.
She’s gotta have a hand in this somehow.
What an ugly woman, inside and out.
And those choppers . . .
Nancy needs to be promoted to ‘Subterranean Truffle Inspector’ tomorrow.
Beech.

*The groundbreaking and intellectually provocative Hannah Montana movie hit theaters over the Easter weekend grossing over 34 million dollars.
For your entertainment ‘bang for the buck’ wouldn’t staying home watching the grass grow be a bit more stimulating?
It’s probably me . . .

*Tiger Woods lost in the final round of the Masters yesterday due to a pair of late bogies.
Why does this not make me feel bad?
I must be a rotten human being.

*And lastly, I thought Gmail’s *new feature ‘Auto-Pilot’ sounded really cool.
But it was only available on April Fool’s Day. {sigh}

Just my mind at play folks . . .

I wish I was being funny.
I’m in a nasty mood tonight, sorry.
Thomas Jefferson said it best when he said,

“A government BIG enough to give you everything you want, is STRONG enough to take everything you have.”

Fuck the government and all their high paying ‘no-show’ jobs, bullshit posts and meaningless rhetoric.
I have had it.
There is a backstory but you won’t read it here.
Christ in a sidecar . . .
And as far as blogs being taxed, just wait . . .
These assholes will eventually tax excess pubic hair, if  they get their way, and they always do.

God help us all.

Denis Leary just kind of spoke my mind with this video.
The video and song are a bit old but are incredibly relevant even more so today.
My disillusionment with federal  and state government policies
have turned me into an asshole with a cause, I guess.
I can’t believe anymore in the total money-grubbing  douchebags that run this country.
As a citizen, I really want to quit.
But I can’t.
I am an asshole and I am damn proud of it.
Click on the picture above to see the classic ‘Leary’ video.
He smokes, drinks and swears and went to High School here in Worcester, Massachusetts.
He Rocks.

I’ve had some very odd things happen in my life lately and it seemed not only appropriate but almost necessary to tell you folks about it.
Aren’t you glad you stopped by?

The picture below will tell you all you need to know about my commute into Boston this morning.
The train I was riding in was empty.
No people.
Just me.
It was empty for the first two stops.
Very strange.
Sitting alone on a moving train at 6AM on a weekday is not only odd but it’s really creepy in a ‘Rod Serling, Twilight Zone’ kind of way.
No human voices or announcements, just the cracking metal creaks, low scraping groans and the desperate sounds of a wheezing ventilation system filling the wee hours of a Thursday morning ride.
I made it to Boston, falling asleep somewhere after Framingham . . .

My mail slot has produced some definite weirdness over the past few weeks as well.
I got a bill from a geriatric/medical place for my mother, in care of me.
The bill originated from the assisted living place she left in 2000.
I’ve now received two bills and have made as many phone calls to the company.
The last several years of her life she had no dentures because she had lost every set we had made.
It got too damn expensive to make any more.
Guess what this bill was for?
You got it- a case of Crest toothpaste.
Shoot me.

Monday morning I woke up at 4:30AM and the first thought in my mind was,
“I wonder how tall Bing Crosby was?”
I kid you not.
You can’t make this kind of shit up.
Before you go to Google, he was 5′ 7″ tall.
Here I was thinking he was taller.
Whatever courses through my brain at that time of the morning should be sanitized and bottled.
I’m thinking if it were administered properly, it could be used to interrogate criminals.
Or not.
Just a thought.
Any weird stuff happen to you today?