I Talk To Babies

I like talking to babies like they are normal people-not some hideously deformed race, which they are.

A few days ago I was in Ikea and there was a baby crying, sounded like he was being murdered-he wasnt. He probably crapped his pants or wanted to see some boobies, pervert. And trust me, The Ikea babies look cool when you are there but take them out of the store and they will fall apart. So this baby was crying and I told him that that was on isle 4 (not particularly clever, or funny for that matter). He didnt laugh and neither did his yuppie mother. She just gave me a look like who gave you permission to talk to my baby. Its a free country; if I want to have a conversation with a baby every now and then I should be able to, right? My father didnt fight in the civil war so that bitchy mothers could tell me that I am not allowed to talk to their babies.

Case in point number two. Last week I was in Walgreens (what can I say, I have a 6th sense for bargains. This kid was crying and I am pretty sure this little girls father wanted to punch this 5 month old in her fat toothless face, but he was wearing sox under his sandals and looked like a pussy, so he didnt. I told this little baby that this was a family establishment and that if she didnt calm down, she was going to have to leave. She complied.

Next time you see a baby that is actin a foo dont hesitate to say something. You could be saving that childs life.

USELESS PRODUCT OF THE WEEK

THE CAR ALARM

Never had I heard a car alarm go off and thought to myself “oh my goodness, someone’s car might be being broken into”. My usual thought process involves taking some sort of blunt object, usually a baseball bat or a medieval mace and making that car shut up. Is a mean thug who is willing to steal your car and commit jail time going to be afraid of loud noises? Instead of carrying pepper spray or taser guns, why don’t we just give people loud bells and whistles to scare away would be assailants, clearly the thought process works the same for car thieves. And while we are on the subject, who was the piece of work that created the actual sound that the car alarm makes. Why don’t we change that annoying, ear-drum-piercing screech, to “Caribbean Queen” by Billy Ocean so when the ford Taurus across the street decides to throw a tantrum, we can at least have a dance party.

I'm Bringin Sexy Back, and you're all invited!

That's right, back by popular demand, sexy has been brought back!

I, for one, am ecstatic. I have been writing to my congressmen for years about this. It's about freakin' time.

Nancy Pelosi, this is what the people want. We have had a grassroots campaign to bring it back and our fruitless efforts have finally paid off. We almost had a Debate on the senate floor, but then 7-11 happened and we had to think about what was really important.

I remember the first day I said to myself "hey, whatever happened to sexy?" Then about a week later I was standing on Mt. Ararat, and I was about to receive a gift from god (Actually it was 10 gifts) when I had an epiphany, "Let's bring it back!” I shouted. The crowd agreed, and here we are today.

Like Abraham said to his wife, or in his case wives. "Keturah, Sarah, and my concubine, Hagar-no not you Sammy-Them other boys don't know how to act! I think it's special what's behind your back!" How true this biblical lesson is today.

So, back by popular demand, I give you the gift of all gifts.

Someone Raped My Kia

So, for the second time this year someone has decided to break into our car.

Apparently, in Nob Hill, there is something about a 2001 Kia that yells "Jackpot!"

Each time this has happened nothing of real value has been taken. Last time they took a 10-year-old leather jacket that was Kristins in Middle/high School. This time they just shuffled shit around and stole an old cross that I think was made of plastic. But this individual did have the audacity to move my seat back as he pillaged through our car. He didnt take my collection of used Starbucks coffee cups, nor did he steal my check book-which would have been useless because I closed my account as someone stole checks from me last month. Yeah, I know, stealing checks is so August, I mean, Live in the Now!

The thing about my neighborhood that bothers me isnt the constant smell of urine, weather it be Human, Feline or K9, nor is it the fact that I see human poop a lot and have to convince my self that it is possible for a dog to wipe their ass with the funny page of the newspaper. The crazy guy who rummages through my trash doesnt even bother me, nor does the fact that he screams as loud as he can, as if my garbage was murdering him, as he goes through my empty cartons of O.J. and burrito wrappers. The fact that I sometime have to drive around the same 6-8 blocks for upwards of an hour to find parking doesnt even bother me. It doesnt even bother me that for some reason, the garbage/recycling trucks sound like tanks rolling through Baghdad at 4:00 am on thus mornings.

None of this really bothers me.

What does bother me (and now the rant begins) is that some fucking idiot decides to break into a fucking Kia Rio thinking that he has struck the equivalent to black gold in the car breaking into world. The Mercedes in front of me, probably just has the entire catalogue of national geographic from 1978-1981, good enough for looking at some indigenous T&A, but who can make a living off of that, right?

All right, I'm done. I mean, ever since 9-11, we live in a different world, so I guess this is just a sign of the times.

Keep you kids close, and your Kia's closer