I’m going on a family ski trip for a week, and we’re all departing for Dallas en route to Denver at about 7am give or take; the flight’s basically taking off at the crack of dawn. We arrive, go through security, and wait for the plane to start boarding. Nothing of yet seems to be askew, but as we board and taxi from the terminal we immediately notice something entirely amiss with the whole situation because they’re talking about iced wings. I don’t think much of it because airports have de-icing equipment so no delays right? Oh, I wish it were so. Instead of de-icing and proceeding to the runway, we roll over to the other side of the terminal and spin around and stop. I glance outside the window and the pilot open the flaps fully and we just sit there. We sit there for an hour. We officially departed on time, but are an hour late getting into the air because American Airlines is so fucking cheap that they didn’t sign a contract with the local de-icing equipment guys to de-ice their planes. Instead, we sit on the fucking tarmac letting the fucking sun thaw the ice from the wings. Oh, and you want to know how they determined when the ice was thawed enough for flight? They brought out a ladder and rubbed their hands on the wings to check the meltingness of the whole shit-mess salad.

We sat there listening to the captain, the lone stewardess, and whatever pamphlet garbage they were trying to force-feed us that morning about how the airport didn’t have any de-icing equipment. There was a problem though. Please draw your attention out the starboard windows to view the de-icing equipment de-ice the Delta flight, then the US Airways flight, then another Delta flight, then a Continental flight. The same de-icing team for each and every one of these while we watched like a starving African with a bloated stomach listening to the retelling of Holocaust survivors’ stories about when they were liberated and going to town on the stores of food. These aren’t all the same company, so we know for a fact they were contracted and not owned or operated by any individual airline. We confronted the stewardess about the “there’s no de-icing equipment here” crap and just pointed out the window. Her reply was succinct, “we just don’t have a contract with de-icing equipment here”.

But wait, there’s more!!!

When we finally touch down in Dallas, we find that we missed our connection to Denver by a mere 5 minutes. That’s right people. We missed our connection flight because we had to sit on the plane for over an hour and literally wait for the sun to melt the ice on the wings. This is the epitome of bone-headedness, cheapskatedness, ass-winkerness that I’ve ever witnessed from a company first-hand…or that I can actually remember. To make matters worse, when we went to query the terminal desk about the flight or getting put on standby for a later flight, her reply was, “oh, looks like you didn’t have a long enough layover. You should always have at least a 3 hour layover just to accommodate such delays.” Seriously? Blaming the passengers on this one while you’re being assholes and not signing a contract with a de-icing crew just so you can save a couple copper pennies…classy!

So the bitch at the gate told us, in professional terms, to go fuck ourselves and it wasn’t her problem and all flights were booked. We proceeded to the next Denver flight gate and spoke with them. “Yep, we’re booked, but we’ll put you on standby.” We sat and waited for that flight to come and go, then we went to the next flight, across the damn airport no less, spoke with the gate attendants, same as before, then went back to the gate we were at before, across the fucking airport again and get the same shit different gate story. Well, this was a previous gate, but different personnel by this time. We’re just in no man’s land and we see an out-of-uniform AA employee searching through a terminal because she too was stranded by her employer for some other reason. She managed to finagle a way to get us tickets on a flight that night and still be on standby.

As luck would have it, this flight had some no-shows so standby passengers were let aboard, but by the time they reached my family, only 3 seats were guaranteed and somehow they managed to fuck up standby too and just somehow forgot to keep floating the standby list from flight to flight and some 30 people got pissed when their names didn’t show. I was called as the last standby passenger and was standing to have my ticket scanned and walk down the gangplank, but the family shows and all seats beith taken. How lucky must you be to have your name called twice in a row for standby, only to have the person show with 5 seconds to spare and you get no flight? Yes, twice that happened. So the following flight had some insane empty seating issues and 30 passengers on standby all got on board. We finally made it to Denver some 9 hours late because American Airlines is too fucking cheap to de-ice a plane properly and instead opted to melt the ice in the sunlight. American Airlines, please accept my sincerest and warmest “fuck you”s as you try to avoid bankruptcy like all the other airlines by cutting costs on de-icing contracts saving a couple thousand instead of not bothering to repaint planes saving hundreds of thousands each.

So what about our baggage? Oh, we shipped our baggage via FedEx and had it waiting for us. We learned our lesson about airlines and baggage LONG ago, and we don’t bother with checked bags if we can manage it.

So here’s what the Texas constitution now says about marriage, ahem, and I quote from the good book, a letter from Idiocracious to Jackofius:

Sec. 32.  MARRIAGE.

(a) Marriage in this state shall consist only of the union of one man and one woman.

(b)  This state or a political subdivision of this state may not create or recognize any legal status identical or similar to marriage.

That seems reasonable enough right? Marriage is a union of man and wife; ok, makes sense. Then it says the state may not create any status similar to marriage. That’s interesting, so marriage is now outlawed in the state of Texas. Way to offer your ass for a pounding guys and fall back into the shit you took. Fucking idiots. That’s the kind of shit that happens when you elect retards into office. No, wait. That might offend retards by correlating the two groups. Non-sentient apes are what they are. They punch at a keyboard and not know the meaning of the words they create. They also are the ignorant fucks that think there’s a little man in the clouds telling them what to do every day. Ignorance may be bliss, but we have to live with these fucktards.

Let me offer a suggestion. NO “MARRIAGES”, AS TERMED, RECOGNIZED BY GOVERNMENTS, ONLY UNIONS!!! This goes to my philosophy on drugs, prostitutes, and whatever else you think some other human being shouldn’t do because you have a fucking problem with it. If a guy likes sucking dick, let him suck dick. If a girl loves muff diving, let her scuba till her heart’s content. Let them be just as miserable as every other fucking soul in the world. Hell, adults are capable of being responsible for themselves so stop trying to control them. What makes you think you know what’s best for another human anyway? If some girl wants to live in a polyamorous relationship with seven dwarfs doing nothing but bukaki all day, then let her; it’s her decision.

“Marriage is a holy union.” Ok, then let it be controlled by the churches where the “holy” stuff is governed. Civil unions for whomever wants to unite together in complete misery as defined by the government and let the churches decide who actually gets “married”, and they’ll define marriage for themselves too. The people with a problem for gays marrying are those that actually have sexual desires for the same sex. Who are all the politicians screaming from the rafters that homosexuality is bad? They’re the most closed-minded assholes from the South you can get, and they’re the ones caught in all the gay sex scandals. The people who don’t have a problem don’t have those sexual desires.

I’ve also heard the argument “that’s just disgusting” and that brings me to wonder if they think all heterosexual couples only copulate via the missionary position. I’ve born witness to some seriously kinky girls that just want guys. Just the missionary position? Don’t fucking kid with me with that. There’s a term called nymphomaniac for a reason. There’s no way around it, girls get hornier than hell just like guys and thinking what they do is less disgusting than gays is just ignorant. You know? Perhaps it’s better off that Texas doesn’t allow any marriages or unions. That way they’d abide by their rules and breed their idiotic genes out of the pool to benefit us all. At any rate, they’re now all technically classified as bastards.

Only steers and queers come from Texas, and they don’t look that much like steers so that kind of narrows it down.

I’ve heard dwarfs say the term midget is derogatory. On the contrary, it’s no different than calling someone a giant just because they’re tall, or maybe goliath if they’re big as well and not a toothpick. Stop being so damn insecure with yourself and stop trying to guilt trip people into changing terminology. People just don’t fucking care that much. I bet the problem is from the way the word sounds. The dʒ sound really fucks with you doesn’t it? It sounds “harsh” or something, and followed with the sharpness of the trailing t, it really drives home the finality of the word and that you have some insecurities requiring addressing. Have a problem with the word gadget as well? It’s the same sounds with the first phoneme adjusted.

“I’m not a midget, I’m a little person.” Not really, you’re just a short person. Midgets are little, dwarfs, no so much. The problem with using the term “little” is in the fact that it’s quite an ambiguous word and can be applied qualitatively as well as quantitatively. I’ve seen some fat fucks who were dwarfs, and trust me, they ain’t no little person. They may be short, but they ain’t little.

You know who true little people are? They’re kids, children, offspring, fuck trophies, bundles of joy, screaming banshees wanting candy. Kids grow up to be “big people” for a reason. “We’re going to have a big people conversation now; go run off in play with your friends.” Ever heard of something remotely similar to that? I bet your ass-wiper you have. That’s because little and big are directly correlated to respective sizes. A little dwarf grows into a big dwarf; a little person grows into a big person. You’re keeping yourselves on first base in the game of life, and it’s fucking annoying. You guys seem to be pouting on first base because you don’t like which team picked you. Either play ball, or go sit in the stands and watch. Stop fucking around with everyone else’s life over the terminology.

Here’s why you should have a problem with using little to describe yourself. Little is a relative term where an object is of the same dimensions, but of a lower scale. Y’all don’t qualify. Using little as apposed to a specific definition might also imply you’re dumber than normal people because you have “little brains”. That’s not the image you want to portray now is it? If it is, then you should continue labeling yourselves little because you’re just fucking stupid. Y’all are just shooting yourselves in the feet on this shit, seriously. Stop acting like children… unless that’s how you want to be portrayed.

Every single demographic is joked about by others, and even within. That’s life, and that’s how people operate. Life and people are politically incorrect, and trying to change it won’t work. You know who provided me with the best and most politically incorrect jokes about Mormons? My Mormon friend in high school, that’s who. You know who provides the best cancer jokes? Cancer patients. I joke about having proportionately short legs, long arms and torso, and brain damage; it’s called a coping mechanism. You can’t change the world, and this battle isn’t worth fighting over. My hat’s off to Hervé Villechaize for not putting up with this bullshit. He’s the kind of person you should look up to. I’m not going to stoop to your level and call you little so grow the fuck up already.

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

Why do people continuously just never…

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

Shut the fuck up already, ok? I’m sick and tired of hearing your…

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

Fucking stop. I’m not listening… la la la la…

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

Wait, I’m sorry. Did you say something? I was distracted for a damn moment.

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

…

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

Fuck it. I’m trying to pose a proper rant here Nina. What the fuck do you want?

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

Why won’t you just shut up? I’m not paying attention anyway.

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

You say something about a leotard? I’m damn sure you said something about a leotard. There’s nothing else that would have snapped my senses back into reality you fat fuck. I swear that if you say that one more time, I’m cramming a stick of butter up your nose.

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

Oh for Pete’s sake already…

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina…” ::BANG::

Ok, where were we? I really hate it when people just don’t know when to shut the hell up. You’re standing there, eyes glazed over not much unlike a deer in headlights, maybe nodding, maybe not. I, for one, subscribe to the “look directly into the pupil of a single eye, unflinching” method. I’ve found that to somehow be a wonderful way to shut them up because it’s “creepy”.

Once the conversation has turned lopsided and can be considered a monologue, I’ve checked out. My body is there, well, most of the time. I have walked out of the room on someone yakking away without them noticing my absence before. My mind is usually long gone, not into some happy place where I’m thinking happy thoughts, but to the great void. I’m there, and my mind says, “fuck this, I’m going to float around in the abyss until it’s over”.

I guess it doesn’t help that for the longest time I thought I suffered from ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder), and couldn’t focus on such conversations. I later believed this to be a misdiagnosis, and ADOLAK (Attention Deficit, Oh Look, A Kitty) became a more fitting label. Only after the points where I’d quickly snap back into reality based on some keyword uttered, like a damn dog wanting a treat, did I realize it’s actually ADS (Attention Deficit SQUIRREL!).

It’s an endless cycle of talk, zone, snap, talk, zone, snap, rinse, lather, repeat. Why must people talk so damn much? When I snap back to reality looking for the treat, I’m immediately slapped with the jib-jab of yak-yak. Because they’re running red on high octane, they expect me to actually care what words fall from their lips? Those words stop feet in front of me, long before they grace the lobes of my ears. Do they think someone’s always listening? Do I look like I’m actually paying attention when I’ve got a cheerleader bent over the couch ribbed for my pleasure? NO! Just shut the fuck up already, ok? And don’t get me started on TPS reports either!

“It gives us more daylight in the day.”

Uh, no it doesn’t. I don’t remember the sun or earth to follow man’s mandates. Just wake the fuck up sooner if you want so much daylight.

“It saves energy by allowing lights to be turned off longer.”

Wrong again. It burns up so much energy and man hours changing all the fucking clocks and scheduling plans that its net value is negative. It’s a waste of time (yes, I made that damn pun on this topic) to change time. Most offices keep the lights turned on all the damn time anyway. They keep the lights on during the day for employees to properly see, and at night as a “theft protection measure” although the latter just makes it a more entertaining target to hit. What about the souls that didn’t get the memo about the changed time and go about their lives, shall they be flogged?

“What about all the finding the US Department of Transportation found beneficial?”

I believe the National Bureau of Standards shot down every finding the US DOT had that shined a good light on changing time. I’d trust statisticians for data over politicians any day.

“Something about schools and school buses”

It changes every time I hear it, but there’s always something about schools and buses. All I can say is change the damn hours of the school and let the time just be. You’re not the center of the fucking world, and time doesn’t revolve around your schedule. Let time just be, and adjust your schedule to it damn it. Fucking dipshits trying to bend a steel girder into a dainty origami crane annoy me to no end.

If everyone wants to keep changing time, just change the time for good and let it be done with. China has a single time zone based on Beijing time, and that pisses off the people way west of the city, but it doesn’t change. We’re a paranoid schizophrenic culture that doesn’t know when something is. White rabbit are we!

Riddle me this: if I hire a hooker that charges hourly during a DST switch, am I charged an extra hour in the spring and get a free service hour in the fall?

I love walking around the streets looking at girls and imagining what they’d wear to a costume party. Would she be the kind of girl who just wears lingerie without any thought in the costume, or would she dress like the bitch slut she really is and theme up the sexiness? It all comes to fruition when the parties roll around, and damn have there been some good ones in the past.

Mardi Gras comes close to the craziness, but that’s just a celebration of craziness and fun. Halloween, on the other foot, presents itself as a time to let the girl ride you, not because you’re fucking wasted off your ass and can’t perform, but because the girls are usually so fucking horny they want the power trip.

I’ve heard so many people bitch and complain about all the girls dressing like sluts, and how there’s never any good costume out there for a girl. To them, I say, “eat a dick, please”. The best costumes aren’t bought, nor are they expensive. The best costumes are the thoughtful ones, the ones that make you laugh, the ones people remember. As for the criticisms towards girls always being slutty for costume parties, the gripes are usually poised by whales whom are so uncomfortable with their own self-image that they demand everyone else be as miserable as they are. Fuck you and that whale you… uhh… road in on? Wait, that joke didn’t come out quite as planned.

Who gives a shit about kids running around asking for candy? They’ll get plenty of candy from me if I’m around, but the real fun is growing up and having the costumed delights running around you. I just fucking love Halloween for all the fucked up stuff you’re allowed and even expected to do and say. This ain’t no mistletoe you kiss under, it’s a damn skull dripping blood and bats flying out of the eyes that you fuck the sexy teacher under. Woo-hoo!

I think the only reason it’s still in production is because it’s such a horrible product. I think it’s sold by sadists torturing kids. The kids eat it, vomit, and then go suck a dick to get the taste out of their mouths. Damn pedophiles using candy corn to tempt kids into bad acts is just damn wrong. But it still doesn’t add up to anything. Molesters aren’t random strangers; they’re usually close friends and family, so why do people actually hand out candy corn anymore if not for the kids I wonder.

It’s the longest running gag in the history of modern society. The joke needs to fucking stop and stop immediately. I remember going door to door as a kid and running up with all the other kids with a huge smile on my face. I remember the person at the door with a huge bowl of candy saying whatever it is they say when opening the door; usually something stupid and not worth remembering. I remember them tossing something into a bag or plastic pumpkin I’d be holding to collect the candy and other treats. I remember running off without looking at the gift horse, and then when I rendezvoused with the rest of my gang to examine our spoils, my heart sank. I didn’t receive the crown jewel of Halloween candies, Reese’s buttercups, but instead was left with the flattest note around. I was left with plastic triangles acting like candy, the spy in our army’s base. You couldn’t trade anything for them, nor give them away. Nobody wanted them, not even the parents stealing their kids’ candy; yes, we knew parents stole our stuff. Candy corn is the old maid of candy, and even worse than a 7-2 off. There’s no point to them, and how the production companies have tricked so many people into continuing this game befuddles me entirely.

I got a kick out of people who’d give away nickels and quarters because I’m a numismatist. I thought it was funny when they’d offer a trick instead of a treat. I laughed at people who got all worked up about everything. We all wanted one thing in the end, candy and lots of it. When the kids go to trick-or-treat, they’re wanting candy, not tri… Oh, it’s all one big fucking joke, one big trick. Ok, I get it now, touché salesman, but I still hate the shit.

I’d be willing to wager that many who actually think their backs are being realigned believe in homeopathy too. How about healing stones while we’re at it? The general populous is full of ignorant dipshits I tell you. You can’t lick your back because your spine won’t let you. That’s just how the body works, and you can’t change it without some serious injury or force.

If you could actually realign a back through massage, then why don’t scoliosis patients have their problems treated with them? Answer me that one. They have seriously fucked up spines that twist and turn like they’re pulling off a slalom run at the winter Olympics. They are the ones who need the realignment, and the only way such a new position can be done is with big ass plates, rods, and screws to force and hold the spine into the new position. I had a friend gain something like 4-6 inches in height from such a surgery that “realigned” and straightened her spine, and there’s no way she would have had her back fixed if someone just kind of pushed her hip here, and put her shoulder there while waiting for a pop to signify everything is now in place.

So please, stop trying to say a chiropractor is fixing your back by manipulation. They’re relieving pressure in very much the same way you crack your knuckles. You get tense, tighten up, and induce unneeded pressure on the spine and its surroundings. The massage and manipulation is designed to make you relax, not move your fucking spine around. Your back isn’t a fucking slinky, and those who think it is should just throw themselves down some stairs, alone or in pairs and relieve us of their stupidity.

I’m aware there are some laws somewhere about bikes on a sidewalk, but I prefer to ride mine on a sidewalk for my own safety. I run and walk there too, and if I approach a pedestrian while on my bike, I ride on the road to safely pass. What the fuck possesses a runner to run in the fucking road, at night, dressed completely in black?

It’s not as if there’s a bike lane on this road. If I hadn’t swerved to avoid the runner, his ass would be scraped up by the Beverly Hillbillies for dinner right now. There’s no damn room on the road. There’s a reason our tax dollars were used to build a very nice sidewalk system for the road. The sidewalk doesn’t undulate and roll. It’ actually a lot easier to run on than the road it’s next to. Run on the god damn sidewalk.

For all the idiocy that this runner displayed, I would have been liable for hitting his broken ass. I would have been sued. I would have been arrested. I would have been the guilty party because he was a fucking idiot to run in the middle of the road, dressed in black, and at night.

I’ve come across instances where a group of runners from the local high school are running and somebody’s trying to pass up by veering into the road. These cases are not my bitch. These cases aren’t typical. These cases happen during the middle of the fucking day when you can easily see them.

I’ve heard some kind of hippy-like runners talk about how running on the sidewalk is harsher on your feet and joints than the asphalt of the road. Let’s try an experiment then. Let me take your fucking face and give you a curb sandwich on both to see which is harder. If I slam your fucking skull into the sidewalk, and then the road, they’re both going to hurt a whole hell of a lot. Fuck off before you go down that path of deliverance.

If you want to run in the damn road, get yourself a fucking license plate for your ass so I can claim that you’re going in the wrong fucking direction when I plow your fucking body into the telephone pole. Get licensed and take a fucking competency test. We’ll even issue you a tag saying “I’m a fucking retard for running in the road, in black, in the fucking night”. If you keep this up, we’ll have to give you a nice little blue logo to put on that tag that has a person with roller skates attached to their hips anyway. Fucking idiots.

Sometimes I just want to get inside the mind of someone who purposefully acquired a big, dumb, slobbering mess of a dog, just to see if they have any sense in there. If they do, I’d love to lobotomize their noodles until someone feels the need to go all Chief Bromden on their ass. The eternal question has always been, “cat or dog?” Why hasn’t anyone actually looked at the real question? That being, “why the fuck would you get a big, dumb, slobbering dog that’s going to do nothing but terrorize the fuck out of your life and those around you?” That’s my question.

So I’ve got this friend of mine who’s a former coworker. Said friend gets a dog and loves the hell out of her. Over the couple years he’s had her, we actually suspect he’s having an affair with her over his girlfriend, but that’s another story, for another kumbaya campfire. He spoke about how well behaved she was, and how smart she was, and wouldn’t shut up about the damn dog. I kept hearing him speak of bringing her into work, and since I had never seen the dog, I didn’t care. I took his word that she was fine…wrong idea…

So one day he brings her in. I see this dog come bounding in like a goofy cow trying to run through tires. The dog didn’t know how to run, and apparently stopping wasn’t one of her abilities either because the first thing she did was run straight into a glass computer desk that was some 10m away. It’s not as if she accidentally hit it by sliding to avoid it. No, this dog just apparently doesn’t know the concept of a wall or any other obstacle. My friend started throwing a tennis ball in the office for her to chase after, and instead of waiting for the ball to bounce off the wall, she continuously tried to run through it. This dog deserved a fucking trophy for being a dumbass.

I was getting pretty pissed at how this dog was barreling through shit. It was a fucking tornado that flew through the office, and at one point I’m yelling, “control your fucking dog before I beat the living shit out of it!” He just didn’t get it. He thought we were all having fun playing with her, but the shit had to stop. I was restraining myself as much as possible to keep from providing a right hook across her face. It’s not in my nature to do so, but boy were my nerves pressed hard at the time. When a dog is a cyclone and completely damaging everything you own, what’s the point in having the dog? Dogs are friends and companions, not hell-hounds bent on causing thousands of dollars worth of damage to all your belongings.

It wasn’t but a few minutes into the play session my friend was having that someone stepped in a puddle of drool. Everywhere this fucking dog went, you needed a Sham-Wow to clean up because you know the Germans always make good stuff. This fucking dog was in the office maybe 20 or 30 minutes; it was a lunch break. I have no idea what the final cost of the damage was, but the cleaning crew had a few choice words for our bosses.

So this experience, on top of others I’ve had with similar dogs, makes me wonder what the fuck the owners are smoking to even want something so damn destructive and disgusting. Is it some kind of huge plot against an evil friend where they’re going to raise a dog for years and then just ask a friend to watch it for a day or two and ruin everything in their place? I’d really like to know. My friend did nothing but laugh at the destruction his dog was causing, and I’d do nothing but laugh if she ran through some glass doors and poked her eyes out.

Let such breeds fucking die out like they should. Stop continuing the stupidity and destruction from these big dumb things. These big, dumb, drooling dogs give dogs a bad name and give ever more fuel to the cat lovers’ fire in the epic “cat vs. dog” argument that’s been going on since the dawn of time.