Scared Bunny

I think I may have met my next crazy ex. I say this because this woman breaks so many of my rules it’s not even funny.

Last night a friend and I hit the town. We decided to grab some dinner, have some beers and watch the NBA playoffs. The start of the evening was pretty tame. The food was good. The bar/restaurant was packed. The beer was cold. The game was entertaining. But after the first half it was time for a change of venue.

Of course we did what it seems most guys in Dallas do. We went to a strip club.

I have to say we have been there before and generally I haven’t had much fun. The percentage of attractive dancers has been low enough that I generally watched the TV’s. Last night was different. They had a lot of very attractive and friendly women. It was enough that I did something I almost never do: I bought a dance. I am not going to get in to detail other than to say that the dance was a very good one and I did something I never do. I actually kissed the dancer. But that is not the girl I intend to write about. Plus, I think she gave me the flu with that kiss.

Instead we will discuss a different dancer, we’ll call Amy. (Not her real or stage name) She was on stage and was totally breathtaking. Not only is she incredibly beautiful, she is a very entertaining dancer. She is amazingly flexible, and has a good personality. I just had to get up and tip her. And I could tell that she was someone I wanted to hang out with. But then the drama hit.

Between the third and fourth stages she was told that a customer had refused to pay $80 he owed her. It was apparently a really asshole thing to do because the managers knew she’d earned the money. He had just waited for the waitress to come back with the credit card receipt and said he hadn’t asked for the dancer dollars. I stepped back to watch after that. She was crying and a bunch of regulars wanted to see what was wrong. I have no idea how many of them tried to make up for it, but I bet she came out ahead.

The next time she was on stage I tipped her and asked her if she got it all straight, and she said they had gotten $60 of the $80, and I am sure there were some dances she got just because she had been upset. But she seemed to appreciate that I remembered and asked, so she asked if I’d buy her a drink. This is one thing I will usually do if I like a dancer, provided it’s a real drink and not a commission drink. So I did buy her something, and it became pretty clear she is a drinker. The bartender and 2 managers knew exactly what she drank. And it was made very strong.

She came back around after her rotation and hung out until her next turn on stage. She only asked me to buy one dance, but she did have some more drinks. This time doubles. And she was getting hammered. Plus I am sure she had had a drink or two during the rotation. But she told me about her life. She is currently on husband number 6, number 5 having committed suicide. She is on a few psychotropic medications. She is involved in a serious battle with an ex over child custody as well.

Anyway, she wants me to hook up with her next week. She actually lives in Oklahoma and comes down every weekend. Her husband comes down every other weekend. Her hope is that we can meet up the weekends he’s not here. This has certain advantages because if I meet her in a hotel in Dallas, she won’t know where I live. Plus, at most I have to deal with her 3 days every other week. When dealing with crazy women if you can get in and out quickly, that is a good thing.

So, other than the fact she is married, medicated, in a custody fight, drinks heavily and is a stripper, she’s perfect.

Tell me how dumb I am in the forums.

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Have you ever noticed that you learn a lot from some of the people you would never expect to have any worth?

My first real job out of school, I had a nightmare for a boss. More accurately he was my boss’ boss, but since he was usually in our office, we had to deal with him a lot. This guy was a nightmare. He complained to my boss because I drank too much water. My boss told him to buzz off, so the guy said the extra water made me pee too much. My boss then told him to shut his door and he’d never know when I went.

The guy was also a huge racist. We once interviewed for someone to do what I did at a different office, and the best candidate was black. He didn’t have a chance. This guy also didn’t like “Mexicans”. His family was actually from Mexico, but he was “Spanish” and even though none of his family had been in Spain for over 300 years, that was a big deal. (It is odd to hear a Hispanic person constantly bitching about “wetbacks”, which is what he called all of the people he considered “Mexican”.)

And, of course, he was a sexist. He treated all women as either idiots or sexual playthings. Sometimes he would do both at the same time. He had one female manager under him, and he totally coddled her. She took more vacations than the rest of his managers combined. I didn’t mind since it meant I would go and cover for her and meant I was away from him. It says something that he was so awful I was happy to spend a week in Artesia, New Mexico for God’s sake.

But this guy taught me more about how to handle customer service and sales than everyone else I have known combined. He knew how to handle business calls with customers. One lesson I remember was to always smile when on the phone, because they can hear it in your voice. He also told a story about how you could ask every woman you met for a kiss, and some would actually do it. I am not sure if that was a metaphor or he actually proposed that you try it. I never took that advice.

He was a total asshole. I couldn’t stand him. The days that he was in our office my blood pressure had to be 30 points higher. I would be nervous as hell as I drove towards the office on Mondays, because if his car was there the week was going to be stressful. I would even try to schedule my lunches to be different from his, because that meant 2 hours away from him each day. Yet every day at work I use things he taught me. Then I think about how this awful man actually has had a positive impact on me.

Then I thought about another person that taught me a valuable lesson. This man was a professor, and was brilliant. He was the kind of guy that was paid hundreds of thousands a year for consulting. He would lecture for companies for tens of thousand a day. He was a professional witness in complex cases and published many times over. He’d lecture in his Armani suits and use the sleeve as a chalkboard eraser. He only taught because he wanted the summers off, and only taught one class per semester.

Yet what I learned from him had nothing to do with his experience or intelligence. Instead, he was a perfect example of a person who couldn’t get over something. You see, before he went to college, he was an autoworker. And, as happened to many autoworkers, he was laid off in the late 70’s when the economy sucked. He took the opportunity to not only go to college but to get an Ivy League PhD in finance and management. He was a millionaire and well respected in his field, but if you asked him what he did, he would answer (still in his Armani suit) that he was an unemployed autoworker.

Now, if anyone has ever benefited from being laid off, it was this guy. Sure he would have been very comfortable as an autoworker. He made a great salary, and had great benefits. The retirement package was great, and he’d have been retired relatively young. But compared to what he had in his life when I knew him, he would have been a pauper. But this man was obsessed with the fact the mean old auto companies had laid him off. In fact, whenever he was enjoying himself something would remind him how he had been “wronged”.

These are not people who I would want back in my life, but I sure did learn from them. Plus, I didn’t have to date them to do it.

Tell me about the jerks you've learned from in the forums.

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I have to wonder about people.

Lots of things pop in my mind for no reason. When someone asked about my blog I remembered why I started it. When Heather asked me to testify on her behalf to get custody of her daughter, I just had to write. I mean, shit, the woman was arrested for hitting me, stole thousands of dollars and may have conspired to steal my car. So, needless to say, that was a pretty fucked up request. (If you haven't read it, click on "The story begins" over on the left. Seriously.)

But the thing that got me thinking about weird behavior wasn't that. Heather had long ago proven to be pretty ballsy, and I am sure she thought I would still be wrapped around her finger. No, it was the ex I had just broken up with. She was mad at me that Heather had contacted me. OK, I understand that when you are upset, you think strange things, but how they hell could anyone be mad at me about that? Christ, I didn't want to hear from her. I didn't seek her out.

Then there is the bizarre concept of "summer dating season". I absolutely do not get that. I don't see any more reason to date in summer than any other time. Hell, it's hot here during the summer. That makes outdoor dates unpleasant lots of times. I like summer, don't get me wrong, but why are people suddenly looking? Where the hell were they 2 months ago? Did everyone just suddenly become single? I had even canceled my personal subscription, so now unless they have a membership, and give me their email, I can't really communicate with them.

I am beginning to think it's a scheme by the service, but, on the other hand, a couple I know are real, including the one I know in real life. But I am not giving those fuckers my money anyway.

I also wonder about Texans. Don't get me wrong. I love where I live. I at least love the variety of places to go here. I love the fact that it doesn't get that cold. I love being in the same town as 2 major airline's hubs. Most importantly I love being so close to my son and some great people I have met. But I have to say this; I cannot say I'm a Texan.

I don't mean that in the sense that everyone wants to be a Texan but you need to be born here to say it. I just can't call myself a Texan because, well, there are certain Texan things I really don't want to be have any more association with than I have right now. It's not just things like country music, cowboy hats, boots and the Dallas Cowboys. It's not just the stereotypes of racism (not true of all Texans), in breeding (also not true) and stupidity (not really any more true than it would be anywhere else). No, it is because there are certain things that just are too embarrassing to be associated with. And there are 2 pictures that sum it up best:

Wait! That can't be what it looks like. Can it?

Holy cow! It is! It's a stretch limo pick-up truck!

See, every time I start to feel a little comfortable about being in Texas, I see something like this. Now, usually the experience involves a woman and her family, and stories that would indicate that perhaps somegenealogytheir recent geneology the family tree wasn't branching out as much as it was merging. But other times it's shit like this.

Not only that, it gets worse! When I talk to friends they all ask the same question: "Was there a hot tub in the back? The answer is NO! The only good reason to have a stretch pick up truck limo, and they don't do it. And to make matters worse, this isn't even the only one I've seen!

So, I am a man without a country, or at least a state. I live in Texas, but I'm not a Texan. I'm from new Mexico, but there is certainly not a strong identity there. Plus I've been here over 6 years.

I think I'll just say I'm a bastard when asked.

Call me your own names in the forum.

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I want you to know I haven’t forgotten part 3 of that story. Trust me when I say it makes the rest seem tame. I am actually kind of afraid to tell it. It is one of those situations where my tendency to want to please my partner (OK, we’ll call it an obsession) makes me do things that later on I am freaked out by. It’s freaky enough at the moment you do it. To be blunt, it freaked me out at the time, but sometimes when a woman is really insistent she wants you to do something that overwhelms you a bit.

As I try to figure out how to tell it, other things are going on.

I will avoid work stories, even though it is dominating my life right now. It’s just not that exciting. I don’t have any on-site co-workers, so there aren’t any office romances. Well, not here anyway. There may be some at headquarters, but I avoid dealing with as many people as possible unless I have to. I will if it means making money, but nothing good comes from extra dealings with the boss. To be honest, it is only good if I fear my heart rate is too slow, because after talking to him my heartrate jumps and my bloodpressure climbs. It is also good if I am having trouble getting motivated to drink.

I also just saw a web ad for a mortgage lender that appeared to show a bird standing over several holes with penises popping out of them. It was very disturbing and really doesn’t make me want to refinance my house. It does make me fear pirds though.

I am now facing a dillema. There was a girl (not an ex) a while back I may have even mentioned. Basically the day we were supposed to meet she came over and was in an absolutely awful mood. She had had a pretty viscous mood swing so I was not really sure whatto make of it. To be honest I thought she got here and was disappointed. Shortly thereafter we were talking and she told me she was pregnant with a psycho ex’s baby. She wasn’t going to have the baby though. She felt she was too young, wasn’t really set in her career and wanted to go to college. I am not going to get in to an abortion debate, but I did offer to do anything I could to try to make the situation easier for her. I really did feel bad for her. But shortly after that I met a woman who does qualify as a psycho ex, so we just drifted apart.

Well, she found my personal ad that I hadn’t renewed but left posted, and wanted to say hi. It turns out there was a little more than I knew. First, sn the way too my house her cell phone had been turned off. It seems the crazy ex had ‘borrowed’ it and run up a $200 bill. He then kind of hid that from her. So that had really upset her. Then there was the real bombshell. She had also just found out she was pregnant with his baby that same evening. In other words, she was dealing with a lot of shit that night. Kind of changed my perception of her mood swing.

Now here is the situation. First, she didn’t have the abortion. She now has a baby daughter that she loves dearly. I know that can make some serious changes in your life. I’d say there is a real chance she is settled, although it’s too soon to say. While I am not ready to get married or anything, I just do not have the energy to deal with someone that is living essentially the same life they lived when they were 18. So if she has settled down, that would be a very good thing.
I also have to admit that she was around at the tail end of my “knight in shining armor” phase. So I am wondering if the attraction will be there in either direction now that that phase is done. There have been some changes in my life since then. I am out of the rescuing business. I am not saying I have become a total asshole towards women. I do keep my assholeness to specific areas of my life. But I also have rejected the idea that I can even out my karma by saving people. They have to save themselves, and I have to find other ways to restore my karmic balance.

Lastly, there is the baby. Don’t get me wrong. I like babies. I don’t really want one, but that is not a problem. The father, on the other hand, is. When you have a kid with someone, that person is usually in your life for a long time, if not forever. I am lucky in that my ex-wife and I do not fuck with each other. While we aren’t friends, when it comes to our son we cooperate and respect each other. I realize how rare that is, especially when you are talking nuts and kids. This guy is a kid. He may legally be an adult, but mentally and emotionally he came across as about the level of a mid-school student who just had his first real hard-on. If he is going to be in the picture, I am not real psyched about the situation. I deal with enough idiots at work. Don’t need to add him.

So I guess I have to find out what the deal is here. That sounds like work.

Tell me what you think about this mess in the forums.

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I think my dad hates garage doors.

Let me explain I mean my step-dad, not my father. In fact, any time I say dad I mean my step-dad. It makes it easier to differentiate and, frankly, the formality of “father” is kind of a slap in the face. And, yes, it’s totally intentional. It could be much worse. I know all sorts of great insults and am known to use obscenity in combination.

Anyway, here’s the deal. When they visited a few weeks ago he helped me to stop the garage door from squeaking. Most of this was just basic lubricating of the wheels and joints. We straightened a couple of small bends in the tracks. It was nothing major. That is, except for a change to the way the garage door is hung. I am not going to bore you with details of what we did. I will say that, according to what I have read, the change was the exact opposite of what we should have done. So, now I need a new garage door. You would be amazed at what that fucker can do to a garage door.

I actually wasn’t to thrilled about calling home for Mother’s Day because, to be frank, I am a little pissed off. The new door is going to cost me about $500, which I am not psyched about spending. Of course I am also not psyched about leaving my car outside now that it is about to be mid 90’s or more every fucking day for 3 months. But, I did call. And I told my mom the story. That’s when she told me he ran in to their garage door with the tractor he bought to restore (which is his hobby, believe it or not.)

Why does the man hate garage doors so much? Was he injured by a garage door as a child? Did he have a traumatic experience in a garage? Does he feel all cars should be left outside to roam free? I have no answers to these queries. But I do know I am out $500. More correctly, I will be as soon as I break down and get the fucker fixed.

In another note, I had a seriously fucked up dream.

Here’s the story. In the dream I was a painter. As a very young painter an older, very famous, painter discovered me. While working with him I painted something of amazing acclaim. Whatever it was it must have been great because from that one painting I became insanely wealthy and famous. But I spent the next 30+ years of my life in this dream with an idea for a painting and I was completely unable to figure out how to paint what I was imagining. All I know was that it involved a landscape with some dead trees and a special way of painting shadows at night.

Meanwhile the older painter made another discovery. He too became famous, and he also became very prolific. But all he was doing was painting the same types of things for years, because they would sell. He had no integrity as an artist, and he became estranged from our mentor. He was finally exposed as a fraud when he actually produced a painting that was almost an exact duplicate of the initial painting that made him famous, and he didn’t even realize it.

His work was very odd. He painted cowboys in rodeo scenes. What made him famous was a small detail in his first painting. It was a cowboy that had just jumped off his horse in a steer wrestling contest. When he landed his ankle gave way and was either sprained or broken. It was this detail, showing the ankle being injured, that everyone found so amazing.

At the end of the dream I figured out how to paint the details I had been imagining, and I was completing an amazing painting. Unfortunately I then woke up, and all I remember is that one of the important keys was that to get the shadows right at night required a special shade of red.

While I want to get over my sleep apnea, I kinda think these weird dreams might end, which would suck.

Give me your analysis (not urinalisis) in the forums.

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I have wanted to write, but Jesus I’ve been busy. In fact, as soon as I wrote that I got an email. It’s just been one of those stretches where a lot is going on.

First, the boring shit.

The other computer is dying again. In the almost 3 years I have had it this computer has had 5 hard drives, 3 CD-ROM’s, a keyboard, a screen, a modem, 2 motherboards a and 4 of some other weird part that has the back ports among other things on it. In short, the people at IBM have spent enough to give me 2 or 3 brand new laptops (by the time they pay the repair guy, who they send to my home). And now their solution is…replace more parts.

In this case we are looking at a new hard drive. They also want to try to figure out what is wrong that this keeps happening. I have a theory, but it involves the fact that most of their techs are idiots (yes, the modem must be connected to the board to actually work, and those parts do not usually need to be forced in using all your might if you are doing it right).

Now why do I think this is interesting? I don’t. But as I have mentioned my IBM issues before, I figured I would again. See, they decided to send a new hard drive. I can install those thing myself, so I said OK. Of course I realize there is something CAUSING the hard drives to crash, but whatever. She then walked me through a recovery. Now, this requires some CD’s, although she insists it doesn’t. I told her I had all 3 CD’s, and then she told me there were 4. Well, they say 1,2 and 3 of 3, so I am pretty sure it’s 3. She said it is 4 or 6, never 3. My discs are liars. She also told me IBM does not ever send these discs, although I have them AND you can order them.

But then, about 3 hours later, they called back. It seems they don’t have the discs to install Windows 2000, and they have to send whatever the fucker came with originally. So I have to send it in. Now, that means they do have the discs, just not for me. OK, so I’ll send it in, right? They’ll even pay for it! Just wait for the box.

The next day DHL (which sucks) comes to the door. I answer and there are 2 boxes. Why are there 2 boxes? Well, because they sent the hard drive. So now I have a hard drive I am not supposed to install, and 3 discs that don’t exist. I also have a box to send the computer in. I hate it that they are making me decide. I hate to decide. But, Christ, this is a piece of shit computer I am on now. Besides, bitching about IBM is fun.

And I also am suddenly having women who want to go out. I guess this truly is the start of dating season. For me it’s not because, in June, I will have my son for a month, so ain’t shit happening. But I do appreciate the attention. And maybe I can go out a couple of times. BUT it also means women I know from the past are contacting me. Now, this is not about exes. I haven’t had an ex try to get back with me (as far as I know) in a looooong time. Changing your number helps with that. But…

OK, remember a long time ago I mentioned a girl I wanted to go out with who had a friend “borrower” her car and never come back again? And when she did get it back, they snuck in while she slept and took the keys again? And then she said she got stranded in Fort Worth with no way to get “home”, which, by the way, was a hotel? And while she was gone someone kept getting on her computer (according to her) and while to most of us this would be an odd occurrence, she could not understand why it seemed strange? Oh, and while her ‘job’ seemed to change from moment to moment, the 2 she was specific with not only were not remotely related, but one of them seemed like either a scam or part of a criminal enterprise? Well, she’s back.

She sent me a message to apologize for dropping off the face of the earth. And, of course, there is a story. Keep in mind that we haven’t traded messages in maybe 2 months. It seems she was in jail for 5 days. The explanation was that she had been given a counterfeit check and, unaware that the check was fake, she was arrested for attempting to cash it. But, eventually, she did get out. But she had no way to get home, so she had to walk. And when she got back to her apartment (I will just assume that she is no longer in a hotel) it had been broken in to and she was robbed. Plus her phone is again turned off.

You know, I am not at all serious about this girl, but the constant stories are really intriguing. I want to keep in touch just to see what will happen next.

Predict her next tale of woe in the forums.

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Sometimes when you go to a strip club, you don’t end up with a wild ass story. I know that is hard to believe, but it is true even for me.

A friend and I hit a club for the Mayorga/De la Hoya fight. We generally hit a club instead of a sports bar. What it gets down to is this. Both are usually going to charge you a cover. At the sports bar you are surrounded by drunk guys. At a strip club you are surrounded by drunk guys and also naked women. I think you can see why the strip club has an advantage. I also have to say that the food is better, the menu more complete and, believe it or not, isn’t much more expensive. The beer is more expensive, but that just gets you to drink less. I think that’s probably a good thing.

Now, we did enjoy the fight, and did enjoy the scenery, but one thing really amazes me. First, it would seem to me a waitress that messes up an order should just accept that she messed up. In this case she got my friend the wrong drink. And to make it worse, it was a drink he was buying for a dancer on his lap. She didn’t take that too well and complained, although she did complain fairly nicely under the circumstances. So what did the waitress do? She just stopped coming to our table. To my way of thinking, it doesn’t make much sense to just pass up on tips for the rest of the night because there was a legit complaint about a drink order.

But there was an upside to this. See, I too had a dancer on my lap. I generally don’t buy dances, so my expenses are limited to drinks I may buy. If the waitress never stops by, there aren’t any drinks bought. I kept expecting the dancer to leave to make some money, but it took her about 2 hours to do that. Then, after she left, we did find a waitress, so we got more drinks and the food we had been waiting to order. The food there rocks, the fight was entertaining and in general it was a good trip. But we weren’t done for the night.

We had to head over to another club that is a little less upscale.

The club we chose is one a lot of local guys talk about. Mainly they talk about it because there are a lot of “friendly” dancers. For those who listen to Chris Rock, he is a lying motherfucker when he says there’s no sex in the champagne room. Hell, in addition to 2 champagne rooms this club has “sky boxes” for even more privacy. Is there anyone who really thinks the extra privacy is just because people hate crowds? Before you answer, let me point out it is at least $100 just to rent the room, and they are always rented by guys who are married and generally couldn’t pick up a girl unless money was involved.

Anyway, we get over there and I have to be honest. It occurred to me that these guys have one other thing in common: low standards. I am not saying the girls were ugly. Only a couple of them were. But there is a general definition of a “dancer’s body” and very few of these girls had one. In fact, if I had to guess, I would say the manager is one of those guys that have a thing for pot bellies. Yes, there really are guys who like that. I am guessing it’s because they saw that discussion in Pulp Fiction and somehow it worked for them. For me, I see strip clubs as a fantasy experience. In other words, I don’t really see the sense in paying to see women that you could see (and in many cases see naked) for free anywhere. Well, not anywhere. You have to take them home from where you first saw them, because most places don’t like you getting naked there.

So we are there, generally wondering if the manager fattens them up personally or hires them like that. My friend meets one really hot dancer, who spends the night on his lap. I end up with one dancer who is trying real hard to be seductive and get my attention. She got it, but mostly because it was pretty funny.  But she seemed to think she was making headway, so she kept doing it. Then, after a while, she seemed to get pissed that I wasn’t getting out of my chair to tip her. In my defense, she wasn’t hot. Besides, I didn’t get out of my chair until they offered a shot to the most enthusiastic customer. I will admit that I was enthusiastic about a free shot of Patron, so I stopped watching the huge banks of TV’s long enough to scream loud and long, winning a shot. I then got my shot, thank the dancer that picked me, and sat back down.

The night continued rather calmly for a while until a friend of the girl sitting on my friend’s lap hit the stage. To be nice I tipper her when she got to the side stage closest to us. I hadn’t noticed, however, that the “seductive” dancer was then on the main stage. She, however, did not fail to notice that I had tipped this girl. She gave me a dirty look and seemed to want to try to guilt me in to tipping her. Didn’t work. But, it did inspire me to be a dick and make sure to tip the girl immediately after her, who actually was very cute. Yeah, she noticed that too.

Unfortunately we left before I could get the cute dancer’s number. When she finished her rotation a little geeky guy drug her off for a dance. That meant waiting and I really didn’t feel like waiting. It was a tough call, but stripper games really kind of suck, and she might have been playing one. Since I had doubts, I just assumed she was.

That was the end of the night. Rather dull. I did enjoy being an asshole for a second or two. And a free shot of Patron is always good.

Oh, and to the really fat, really dorky old guys in VIP: don’t dance in public. It was really fun for me to watch, but we really weren’t laughing with you. Yeah, we were being assholes. But everyone has to every now and then.

Discuss my assholeness, in the forum.

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Clearly this is a dysfunctional world.

This morning I had to be up early to get my son to school. What this means, besides the fact I didn’t get enough sleep, is that I heard more talk radio than normal. Now, I am not talking about Rush Limbaugh type radio. I am not even talking about sports radio, which is generally more acerbic and hostile than even political radio. No, I am talking about radio that is designed to be entertaining as opposed to informative, thought provoking or persuasive. I choose that kind of radio because, well, if I want to be informed I just want facts. Plus I have to think enough with work that adding the need to actually think about what is on the radio really is not that appealing.

So, I tune in the first of the 2 stations. This is the one that is an “alternative” rock station that decided they wanted talk in the morning. And what are they talking about? It seems their token chick newsreader went out to a hotel bar alone Saturday night and may or may not have been drugged. She was drinking at the bar and the next thing she knew she was at home and her side airbags had deployed. She has no idea what else happened, or even why the airbags are deployed, but the general consensus is that she was drugged by a guy who had approached her but she had rejected.

She doesn’t believe he assaulted her, but she doesn’t really remember anything. And she was sick all day Sunday. Of course the guys assume that he drugged her so he could rape her. They also advised her to get checked by a doctor. They wanted her to talk to the manager. They wanted her to have the tapes checked to make sure she wasn’t taken anywhere. All of those things make sense. What doesn’t make sense is that this whole thing was being used as entertainment. There were jokes being made about the situation. She didn’t really seem that concerned, although I don’t think she appreciated the jokes.

I really don’t think rape or attempted rape is really good entertainment fodder, so I changed the station. That, of course, meant we got to hear people talk about the immigration walkout today.

First, again, I really don’t like political radio. But this was even worse. I understand that there is an unwritten rule that members of a minority can make jokes about their own group. I even understand that it’s OK to make fun of white people. What I don’t get is why it’s OK for members of one group to make jokes at the expense of another group that, if I made them, would be deemed really offensive. So the host of this show is a gay white male. Why, exactly, does that mean he gets to talk about how Hispanic people not going to work today means you won’t have to worry about a weed whacker falling off a pick-up in front of you and breaking your windshield? Last time I checked that was the kind of stereotype people didn’t think was funny anymore. Hell, didn’t a baseball player get in trouble for saying that the baseball game between Japan and Korea meant he couldn’t get any dry cleaning done?

I am not saying I am all for the extreme political correctness, but for Christ’s sake, let’s at least be fucking consistent. Besides, I don’t care what anyone says. The traffic today was just as bad as any other day, so if there was a boycott of work that means the boycotters were all going somewhere else.

I should have known better though. The same fucking show last week interviewed a judge that wants us to all boycott Exxon/Mobil until the price of gas falls. Now, I am not an expert so I don’t really know if they are up to any shady shit. But I do know a couple of things. First, someone is still going to buy that gas, so you can boycott all you want. They’ll just sell it to Shell, and you’ll buy it from them. The people you’ll hurt will be the people who own Exxon stations (hint: they are primarily not owned by Exxon/Mobil, but by normal people) and they aren’t really making any more than they made before because they are having to pay a shitload to Exxon for that gas we buy.

Oh, and when will the guy call off his boycott? When gas costs $1.30. OK, I think gas got that low about 15-20 years ago. I don’t see that as a practical goal. Hell, they make gas companies mix in ethanol and the ethanol costs the gas companies something like $2.70 a gallon. I know the oil companies are making a shitload of money, and I wish it was my money instead of theirs, but I really don’t think they’re going to start selling the gas at a loss because some judge in San Antonio tells them he wants them to.

But, just in case this kind of shit does work, I am demanding we all boycott Wal Mart. I am not really sure why we should boycott them, but they annoy the fuck out of me. Every time I go to a Wal Mart I swear I find the most annoying shoppers on the planet all congregated in one location. So, to make up for whatever they do that makes people start acting like shopping is a contact sport, I am insisting that Wal Mart send me a check for $25 million. Until then, nobody is to shop at Wal Mart.

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