Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Stupid People Shouldn't Breed

I was inspired to write this blog by Susan, as she called me yesterday to comment on my previous blog and to ask me if I was serious about those two idiots not knowing that the Titanic sunk. Our conversation led me to tell her some other funny stories about Stupid People and, after laughing our asses off for a few minutes, I decided that when I had a chance I would share them with the rest of the class. Susan, I apologize in advance for boring you with this story you have already heard, but deal with it sister.

I just want to start off that either people have gotten more stupid or lost their complete and utter sense of humor lately. I swear, you can't even joke around anymore without someone biting your head off and taking it seriously these days. Case in point:

So I'm shopping at my local grocery store and there's this completely annoying cashier lady there. I do believe I have written about her in a previous blog; she was the one that told me I shouldn't drink if I was nursing and tried to put my booze back. Anyhow, I sidle up to the register with my stuff and she starts screaming down the aisle, "where's my baby? where's my baby boy?". Um, excuse me, but yes lady even though you look pregnant EVERY day coz you're a big fat ass does not mean that you pushed my son our of your nasty hoo-ha. I know, I know, technically neither did I (C-section, remember?), but I've got the scar, the stretch marks, and the pregnancy pictures to prove I birthed him lady, so quit screaming all this "my baby" crap or you'll get a nice baguette shoved up your ass. She shuts up finally about the "my baby" junk and asks me how he's doing and is he sleeping through the night. Me, being me, I tell her, "Oh yes he's sleeping just fine. I usually put a pillow over his face and punch him a few times to get him to shut up and then he goes to sleep. It's probably because he's unconscious but hey, whatever lets him get some sleep is what I say".The idiot took me seriously. No joke. Fat Ass McIdiot took me seriously and started yelling at me in the checkout line. I was so shocked that, believe it or not, had no clue what to say. So I finally said to her, "I was kidding you idiot! I only punch him once! No no no, really I am just kidding". I pay for my groceries and I think the whole thing is over, right? WRONG. Fat Ass McIdiot goes and tells the grocery store "security" guard that I abuse my child and I get stopped at the door!!!!! I then proceed to get a lecture from Deputy Douchebag from Scream about how in this "post 9/11 time we need to watch what we say". Um, what the fuck does 9/11 have to do with anything? Better yet, if I was abusing my child, what the hell does 9/11 have to do with that? Does the Taliban gain its power everytime a mother beats her kid? Did the terrorists carry pictures of women slapping their kids around to boost their evil-ness? Did the towers collapse because someone's mommy spanked them? Um, no. So again, I ask, what the hell does 9/11 have to do with it? So Deputy Douchebag issues me a "warning" and tells me to move along. A warning? What the hell is a "grocery store warning?" Does it mean that next time I come in, I can only go down the even aisles? Does it mean that I must stay away from all dailry products until a certain time that I am "unwarned"? Will my grocery bags be jailhouse gray and have serial numbers on them? Will I have to change my name to Stumpy and play the harmonica near the frozen foods? Seriously folks, if you had asked me how my baby was doing and I answered you in that fashion, would you really think I was serious? Do you actually think that someone who beats their kid would advertise it? As Susan said to me yesterday, who has ever heard of a mother announce, "Ok everyone, I just want you to know that the bruises on my kid here are from me beating the crap out of him with a shoe and tomorrow I plan on bashing his head against a tree and telling everyone he fell." Makes no sense, right? Yet Fat Ass McIdiot and Deputy Douchebag seem to have though I was serious. Give me break! Between political correctness and people just having sticks up their asses all the time, you can't even be funny anymore without having a GROCERY STORE WARNING put on you!!! Especially in this "post 9/11" world we live in.

Ok while I have it in my head, what the fuck is up with everyone starting their sentences with "Since 9/11...." or "In this post 9/11 world....". I mean, when the politicians were doing it, it annoyed me. Now it seems that everyone does it. "Since 9/11 I've gained 300 pounds and joined a cult"! "Since 9/11 I like to play with myself in the shower"! "In this post 9/11 world it's always better to brush your teeth from side to side instead of up and down"! Please! Enough already!

So that's about it in a nutshell. Either people have lost their sense of humor or I'm missing something. I don't know, but I thought it was funny. My dad and mom thought it was funny. Randy laughed his ass off and Susan thought it was hysterical. I guess Fat Ass McIdiot and Deputy Douchebag need a life.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition

We went to the Titanic exhibit at the Miami Science Museum and Planetarium on Sunday. I have always been fascinated with the Titanic; from its discovery and salvage operations, to the personal stories behind its passengers. It's always been a little eerie for me as well when I view the underwater images. I don't know why but, as with the Crusades and my 14th century Flemish painters, I get all goosebumpy and tingly all over when I see anything about Titanic. (Except maybe that movie with Leo diCaprio and Kate Winslet, which I thought was a CGI gag fest that should have gone down with the ship. No joke, I remember being on line to see it and casually saying to the person I was with, "You know, the ship sinks in the end", and this man and woman behind me getting extremely pissed off that I gave away the ending. Seriously. You gotta love the American educational system, it sure spawns some winners.)

Anyhow, I have seen a Titanic exhibition back in the day already but I can't remember when and where. I do remember that I was young enough to have been there with my mom and dad and brother, yet old enough to walk at least 10 feet away from them for fear of being "uncool". In any event, I do remember having already seen artifacts in person so I was pretty excited to see what was going to be on display here in Miami.

You know, for a 20 dollar ticket price, I wasn't that impressed. Both Randy and I were a little disappointed. Dante loved it, as the exhibit was set up as though you were moving through the ship's various areas (the deck, 1st class, 2nd class, 3rd class or steerage, the boiler room, etc.) Dante was especially enthralled by the boiler and engine room area as it was completely flooded in darkness except for a few spots of deep red light here and there. Also, the simulated roar of Titanic's engines (what those poor men had to listen to as they fed the fuel for the great ship) certainly was a new sound to Dante's ears and he was definitely entertained. Between the cool sounds and the funny lights, our baby was in curious land and took everything in.

As far as Randy and myself, it was "just okay". As I said, the exhibit was set up as though you were moving through the ship; each artifact display reflecting which part of the ship you were in. There were also reconstructions of what first class, second class, steerage and crew cabins looked like. It was interesting to note that in first class, the surrounding ambiance was lovely chamber music (probably played by the doomed orchestra who went down with the ship) and as one moved through the ship and changed classes, the music became fainter. By the time we got to steerage, the hum of the engines drowned out that lovely chamber music. In any event, the artifacts were really nothing that hasn't been seen before. Whether on a Discovery channel documentary or on the IMAX screens. The fact that they were up close sure made them more interesting, but as I said, it was nothing that floored us. Some of the first class jewelry would have been nice to have in my hot little hand, but other than that, how many times do I have to look at the White Star Line plates and forks?

I think the best part of the exhibit was the Boarding Pass. As we entered the gallery, we were each given a White Star Line boarding pass with the name of a passenger, their cabin and class, and a brief history of who they were and where they were going. At the end of the exhibit, we were to look on the Saved/Not Saved roster from the ship to see if "we" made it off Titanic or became one of its victims. My boarding pass belonged to a woman in second class, travelling with her husband and newborn son. Randy's boarding pass belonged to a man in third class travelling with his 2 sons. Can you guess who lived and who died?

As a woman in second class with a baby, if you guessed that me and my baby lived, while my husband bit it, you are correct. If you guessed that Randy and his entire family were goners you are correct as well. Seriously, as soon as I saw that I was a chick in second class and Randy was a man in thrid class, we both knew who was going to make it off Titanic. It was interesting to see on the passenger rosters what huge discrepancies there were between the classes in regards to lives saved and lives lost. In first and second class only about 130-150 people actually died (most of them men), while in steerage and crew 537 and 699 were lost. First and second class were able to save 199 in each, whereas the lower classes only saved 100 or so. As steerage was the class carrying most, if not all, the immigrants coming to America in search of a better life, it makes it that much worse seeing all those names of the lost.

Fun Facts:
First class tickets in April of 1912 cost an average of $2,500, which in today's economy averages out to about $48,000. The two deluxe suites on the Titanic that cost $4,500 at the time, would now run about $78,000 in today's market. A steerage or third class ticket cost $45.00, which translates to about $620 today.
Lillian Gertrud Asplund, the last American survivor of the sinking of the Titanic in 1912 died in May 2006. Asplund, who was just 5 years old, lost her father and three brothers, including a fraternal twin. She was the last Titanic survivor to remember the actual sinking. There are a couple of women still alive who were on the Titanic but were just little babies and do not remember.

All in all, I wish the exhibit had had more oomph to it. I found it to be a little monotonous and subdued. The personal effects, although few and far between, were lovely, from the cufflinks, to the small child's toy, to the gorgeous gold bracelet with "Amy" written in diamonds. The personal effects are always interesting, as they bring the humanity behind the disaster to light. The names of the passengers are not just names on a roster, but rather real people who lived, breathed, and unfortunately for most, came to a tragic end that night. After almost 100 years underwater, Titanic still commands the opulence and amazement it did in her heyday.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

I Spy

So being the good citizens and new parents that we are, Randy and I decided to go to our first Neighborhood Community meeting last night to see what it was all about. I had some issues regarding the "transactions" that were going on on our street and I also wanted to ask if we could get speed bumps put on the road so the dudes going 800 miles an hour would slow down to a decent 700 as there are tons of kids always playing outside. (I know, I know, I've somehow become "parent-ish" since Dante was born, go figure).

Our first impression as we walked in was, "wow is everyone here 152 years old?". Seriously, I think Randy, Dante and I were the only people there NOT born during the American Civil War and who did not remember the assasination of Lincoln. Of course, we got a few stare-downs as we walked into the room; Randy with his "Day of the Dead" T-Shirt, Dante in his black "Ozzy watches over me" onesie, and me, well just being me and breathing was sufficient. A couple of the "board members" were young; some preppy chick who kept fawning over our baby, a woman in her 40s who tried to discuss clubbing and bar hopping with me (don't ask me why), and a 30-something gay guy who was adorable, but I would have much rather seen him on Queer Eye. I also think he was in the closet, which seemed impossible to me as he was WAY more fabulous than me and that usually spells gay, but none of the Civil War veterans had a clue.

We sat down and I started feeding Dante, mostly because I wanted him to not schmickle (my invented Yiddish word for "fuss") but also because it was time to feed him. So the meeting starts and everyone gets up to say the Pledge of Allegiance. When I say everyone, I mean not me. What are we: 3? In Elementary School? Who the hell "pledges" anything? What the hell does the Pledge of Allegiance have to do with planting flowers in our neighborhood and/or the discussion of trash pickup? Seriously, I've never said nor done the Pledge of Allegiance, which was a huge issue with my teachers when I was in elementary school and my parents had to be called in and all that jazz and it was this whole deal. (Long story short, my parents told everyone to shove it and that I didn't have to say it if I didn't want to). First of all, I pledge allegiance to my family, my husband, and my son. Anyone else, I may consider it, but not really. Secondly, I don't pledge to a piece of cloth. Thirdly, we are NOT one nation under god with liberty and justice for all. God has nothing to do with me, and I could care less about some made up dude. Liberty for all? Not quite. And Justice for all? Great Metallica album, NOT really a representation of this country.

Anyhoo, they say the pledge and go through their orders of business (planting flowers, trash pickup, etc.) and then the fun starts. Basically it turned into "If you see any of your neighbors doing something bad or something you don't approve of, turn them in". I was like, what is this, the NSA? Is the Patriot Act being enforced in my 'hood? Do I have to take the skulls off my roof? Are we being targeted as "godless heathens" who disrupt the moral fiber of society? Thankfully, not this week, but there was alot of discussion about some dude's grass 2 streets over being too long. Scandalous, I know. Then the "guest speaker" made a little speech. Basically he was a cop who, in a nutshell, told us to report any "suspicious" activity and if we wanted to be Citizens on Patrol to speak to him. Um, ok. Then some lady and dude in the back, who I think were a little drunk or a little retarded or both, piped up about "suspicious" activity on their street involving long-haired dogs, a tin roof, and chow puppies. I'm not kidding. I swear I think they thought Al-Qaeda was breeding terrorist dogs to shit anthrax ridden poop on their lawn. They then revealed that they were Citizens on Patrol and that we should fear them for if we do anything "suspicious" that we'd soon find ourselves at Guantanamo. (ok, maybe I'm exaggerating but these people were wacko.)

My impression of this town meeting was basically, "Let's spy on everyone and be big baby tattletales so we can get brownie points from the board and the cops and maybe get our name on the Adopt-A-Street sign". Seriously. I talked to this one guy afterwards who was kinda off to the side like Randy and I were, and who seemed to be our age, and he said he came to the meetings just to see the people go at it, and to make sure that no one was talking about his house. Needless to say, I think we're going to keep going for the same reasons. I don't like the idea of spying and tattle taleing. Personally, I don't care if your grass is too long or you have a bag of trash out one day before trash pickup. We mind our own business, especially because we're the house with the Halloween decorations up all year and the freaky goth folks living inside. I will only speak out if I see abuse in the home and/or drug dealers on my street, other than that, do whatever you want.

I hope this turns out to be Peyton Place!

Sunday, September 3, 2006


DON'T apologize or make excuses for me. If you don't like the way I dress; the way I look; my tattoos; the color of my hair, then don't invite me to your social gatherings.

DON'T tell people that I'm "normal in other ways" when introducing me. As far as I am concerned I am "normal" in every way and you're the one with a few screws loose.

DON'T use me as your comic relief. I can guarantee you that I am always smarter than 95% of the people in the room no matter where I go but am dismissed as the "weird chick" and written off as an idiot because assholes like you need to trivilialize my degrees of study, my appearance (yet again) or my political ideals. (Just for your sake, G.W. Bush in NOT the greatest president; abortion is NOT murder and even if you believe it is and are against it, then just don't fucking have one but leave the CHOICE up to everyone else; the war in Iraq is NOT justified and 3,000 lives are NOT worth it; Islam is NOT a terrorist religion; not all black people are on welfare; and your life does not suck because the immigrants and affirmative action made it that way.)

DON'T inform a table full of people that you're going to be the "one to change" me and bring me to god, and that you pray for my salvation every night. Pray for me all you like, but face facts that I am an atheist and the threat of hellfire and brimstone means about as much to me as a grilled cheese sandwich. (Although a grilled cheese sandwich sounds really good about now.)

DON'T inform me that if I don't plan on taking my son to church that I am a horrible mother and that you're going to "kidnap" him and take him yourself. First of all, touch my kid without permission, be prepared to lose your life. Second of all, if and when my son asks questions about god and religion, Randy and I will be the ones who teach him, NOT you. Also know that my son will learn about ALL religions, from Christianity to Judaism to Hinduism to Islam, all the way to those who worship the Great Pumpkin. He will not be taught that anything other than Catholicism is evil and if he so decides to explore a faith, I will support him 1 million percent and give him every avenue to see where he fits in. Until then,

DON'T push god on my kid, OR on me.

DON'T make fun of gifts my husband buys me and imply that I'm "turning him into a freak like" me. If Randy wants to buy me a coffin purse because he knows I am the Queen of Halloween and I would like it, then that's his business.

DON'T roll your eyes and degrade him, me, or his gift giving.

DON'T tell me that taking my son swimming naked (him, not me) and then taking pictures of him in the nude constitutes child pornography and that I should be ashamed of myself and that you don't "ever want to see those disgusting pictures". He's a fucking baby. His penis is the size of a pencil top eraser (even less as the water was a bit cold...guys you know what I mean), and you're sexualizing it? Give me a break. 99.9999999% people in the entire world have baby pictures of themselves and/or their children naked. Holy shit, my baby book and my pictures from childhood would be scandalous according to you! There's even ones of me and my brother taking a bath together!

DON'T sit there and goo-goo gaa-gaa over how much the birth of my son means to you and how you're this and you're that when you've not lifted a goddamn finger and given us anything for him. Not even a box of diapers. People who I have not spoken to in years, our new neighbors, the lady down the street, all who have no relation to my son have opened their hearts and generously given us gifts. People at the grocery store made us a gift basket for chrissakes! All you've done is talk about how my son's birth is all about YOU. It's not that these people gave us gifts, the gifts are not important, but you have done absolutely nothing. Our nursery is furnished by Randy and me and everyone else but you. Dante's closet is filled with clothes we bought and that everyone else gave but you. The bank account we opened for him has been deposited into by everyone, but you. Oh sure, you're there when it's time to snap pictures or to brag to everyone, but where are you otherwise?

DON'T say you're going to get us a certain gift and then wait so damn long to get it that someone else gets it and then use that excuse as to why you didn't get it. I can understand that happening once, but 4 times?

DON'T be such a fucking hypocrite.