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June 23, 2005
It’s so obvious now….
A recent story on the ‘Reuters’ news service really gave me an idea. The story went like this:
NAIROBI (Rueters) – A 73 year old Kenyan grandfather reached into the mouth of an attacking leopard and tore out its tongue to kill it, authorities said Wednesday.
Peasant farmer Daniel M’Mburugu was tending to his potato and bean crops in a rural area near Mount Kenya when the leopard charged out of the long grass and leapt on him.
M’Mburugu had a machete in one hand but dropped that to thrust his fist down the leopard’s mouth. He gradually managed to pull out the animal’s tongue, leaving it in its death throws.
M’Mburugu claimed a ‘voice’ that must have been God’s told him to do so and even though he was bitten and mauled he survived the attack. M’Mburugu was toasted as a hero in his village Kihato after the incident and was even given free hospital treatment by astonished local authorities.
“This guy is very lucky to be alive,” Kenya Wildlife Service official Connie Maina told Reuters, confirming details of the incident.
It got me thinking that it is now so obvious that I must wonder why we never though of it before.
Next time I am sitting in a bar, enjoying a beer with a friend or maybe a nice game of pool and some yappy, gin soaked ‘cougar’ comes along and literally attacks me and won’t shut up and won’t leave me alone, NOW I know what to do.
Should have thought of this years ago….
~ AP
Posted by Anonymous Pundit at 07:25 PM | Comments (0)
June 17, 2005
Shut up Sir Bob…Shut The Fuck UP!!!!
Unemployed rocker and one time Boomtown Rat, Bob “Call me Sir” Geldof is really beyond mere scorn. This arrogant, yappy little whiner is happily going about stealing some limelight again as he organizes (what else?) another concert to help some group that he sees as being in need of his self serving attention. Not content to sit back in his role of making Keith Richards look like a healthy and vital human being, Bob is trotting out again for another needed fix of fame with his “Live 8” concert and is angry at eBay for allowing some people to sell some tickets they won to the London show.
What a fuckwad.
Here’s what happened and what he said;
Tickets to the London show were given away to the winners of a text (think cell phone messaging) lottery. And some of those winners, who obviously needed cash more than crowds and filthy washrooms decided to sell them on eBay. The tickets are their property now, not Sir Bobby’s. And here was the lead Rat’s response:
“I am sick with this,” Geldof said in a statement. “What eBay are doing is profiteering on the backs of the impoversished.
“The people who are selling it are wretches. But far worse is the corporate culture that capitalizes on people’s misery.”
What the fuck!?!?!?! Who the hell does he think he is? What an asshole. From this moment on I wouldn’t cross the street to piss on him if he was on fire. Here are a few points to consider as you form your own opinions about crossing the street to pee.
Do you think that all the bands, made up primarily of very, very wealthy rock and roll stars who made their millions off of the backs of people around the world struggling to pay their monthly bills are doing it for charity? Hell no. They are doing it for publicity to sell more of their records and keep up the payments on their holiday homes in the Caribbean. And, they will be able to write off any incurred expenses against their taxable income. How long has it been since Pink Floyd released an album? Years. But they know they will sell hundreds of thousands of their old ones by doing the show. They will all make a ton of dough. Way more than I will make this year or the next ten combined.
So who’s profiteering off of who Sir Rat?
But you know, the statement he made that hits me as most clearly demonstrating his personal hypocrisy is: “…but far worse is the corporate culture that capitalizes on people’s misery.”
Hmmmmmm……come again Bob. How was that? I was in high school when the Boomtown Rats first hit the charts with their only big hit. It was called, “I Don’t Like Mondays.” The song was about a teenage girl, 16 to be exact, who walked to an elementary school yard on a Monday morning as all the little kids were hanging around waiting to go to class, and then she shot them. That’s right. She raised a .22 caliber rifle to her shoulder and she began shooting the kids at nearly point blank range.
Here for your information, are the lyrics to Bob’s big hit.
"I Don't Like Mondays"
The silicon chip inside her head
gets switched to overload
and nobody's gonna go to school today
she's gonna make them stay at home
And Daddy doesn't understand it
He always said she was good as gold
And he can see no reason
Cos there are no reasons
What reasons do you need to be shown
[Chorus:]
Tell me why
I don't like Mondays
I want to shoot
The whole day down
The telex machine is kept so clean
and it types to waiting world.
And Mother feels so shocked
Father's world is rocked
And their thoughts turn to
Their own little girl
Sweet 16 ain't that peachy keen
No it ain't so neat to admit defeat,
They can see no reasons
Cos there are no reasons
What reasons do you need to be shown
[Repeat Chorus]
All the playing's stopped in the playground now
She wants to play with her toys awhile
And school's out early and soon we'll be learning
That the lesson today is how to die
And then the bullhorn crackles
And the captain tackles
With the problems and the how's and why's
And he can see no reasons
Cos there are no reasons
What reasons do you need to die
[Repeat Chorus]
It sure is nice to see that Sir Bob Geldof has never, in any way associated with or profiteered from a corporate culture that capitalizes on people’s misery.
I’m sure I’ll sleep better at night knowing we have that hypocritical Irish shit head to maintain our global social morality.
Well, I guess when I see Bob drain his own bank accounts and give all of his money to the people of Africa instead of asking for more of mine, I will listen to him or watch one of his stupid concerts. Till then, all I want him to do is shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up. But secretly, inside, what I really want to do, is get some tickets to “Live 8” and sell them on eBay.
~AP
Posted by Anonymous Pundit at 09:11 AM | Comments (0)
June 15, 2005
Thank you for your incompetence…
God damn but I hate this place sometimes.
I don’t know if it’s just where I live or if there is a grand conspiracy to dummy down the world to accommodate the slow pathetic mass that swirls around me. Or maybe, its just because people are such sheep that they have come to expect sub-mediocrity as an acceptable level of service and quality. I don’t know……
Case in point.
Yesterday, I went to United Furniture Warehouse to search for some inexpensive shelves that I needed for my abode. I went there because I knew that they were a large and well recognized supplier of affordable shit, er, I mean furniture. I was not looking for solid oak shelving that needed no assembly, with maybe, folding shelves for easy future transportation. That stuff is way too expensive. I was simply looking for two sets of bookshelves and maybe a CD tower for my small but disorganized pile of CD’s and DVD’s.
Lo and behold, there were shelves and a CD tower that would suit my needs. CD tower, $69.95 and shelf units, $24.95 each. True, they were particle board with that faux wood finish, but who cares. I was not buying luxury, I was searching for easy functionality.
So I approached the sales guy and what follows is the exact transcript of that brief part of my life:
Me: Hi. I need a couple of those shelf units in the light wood finish, and one of those CD towers.
Him: Um…ok. I’ll go see if we have them. (Please note, most people don’t think that statement to be odd….)
After four minutes pass….
Him: We don’t have any CD towers and we only have the shelves in the dark wood. (Note…it is NOT wood but we have come to simply accept the delusion)
Me: Well, I’m in a hurry, so I’ll take the dark ones and that CD tower you have right there. It will save me having to assemble it.
He hesitated for a few seconds and said that he would have to check with the supervisor. He then went into the back and after five minutes came out with the two boxes that held the shelves that I would have to build myself. He then asked the supervisor if I could have the CD tower. The supervisor went to his computer, tapped in a few things and looked up and said, “No. That’s our floor model. But if you like, they have seven of them in Victoria.”
Me: But I’m in Duncan. Why would I drive for an hour to buy a $69 CD tower when you have one right there? Why don’t you sell me that one and then order up another floor model for you because you don’t have any to sell here anyways?
Him: Sorry. We don’t do that.
I needed the shelves and so did not respond with ugliness and vitriol. I simply said, “I’ll just buy one somewhere else. I’ll take the shelves though.”
He turned to his computer and tapped a few keys.
Him: Your last name.
Me: This is a cash sale.
Him: I need your last name. (He didn’t even say please)
Me: You don’t need my name. This is a cash sale, why would you need my name?
He was starting to look perplexed. The siren call of the blanks on the screen were causing him to lose control of his thought processes.
Him: I just do.
Me: So let me get this straight, you have a product for sale that you are unwilling to sell me and you have two other things that are different from what you display and you won’t sell them to me for cash without me giving you my name and no doubt other personal information?
He was starting to sweat. I could tell. And I was getting ready to roll out the ugliness and vitriol. Then he was saved by the bell. Yes folks. Just as the first bead of sweat started on the hairy bridge of his nose the phone rang and he answered it. He started talking and turned to his computer again to help the person on the phone, ignoring me.
I didn’t have the time or energy to make it worse. Nothing to be gained here. I was dealing with someone who has reached their maximum level of incompetency and who would never really understand my issues. (Yes…I’ve been told I have ‘issues’ on occasion) So I left the building without another word and have vowed never to return to a place where the life essence is sucked out of you in a headlong search for particle board heaven. If Satan could design a furniture store, this would be it. A place as dull and featureless as the people who work in it.
So I ended up going to Staples and got some shelves there instead. I know, I should have gone there first. I got two shelf units there. They are solid oak shelving that needed no assembly, with folding shelves for easy future transportation. They were only $45 each and are way not expensive. They can even stack if I want to. They are so nice that I actually recommend that everyone go out and get some.
Staples Shelf
So I thank United Furniture Warehouse for being so incompetent. I now have the shelves I really wanted because of them.
~ AP
Posted by Anonymous Pundit at 08:48 AM | Comments (0)
June 13, 2005
Michael Jackson Not Guilty……
Uh huh. What a surprise. I never would have expected that. Who could have seen that coming?
Yeah right…..
A comic farce of negligible proportion. Oh well. I guess when the jury finds you innocent, that’s good enough. Frankly, I couldn’t give a damn. I’ll sum up my feelings on the subject of Michael and his little boys by simply saying, “He got off.”
~ AP
Posted by Anonymous Pundit at 10:48 PM | Comments (0)
June 10, 2005
And then there’s the Dutch….
The cheapest bunch on the planet, unless it comes to having sex, buying cheese, smoking hash, having sex, hating the Germans or having sex. They have such a relaxed view of the world that if they are not euthanizing their old and weak, the state is paying prostitutes to provide sex for them as a form of mental and physical therapy. I’m not sure if there is a porn movie where all of the actors / actresses are wearing nothing but wooden shoes and grinding away on the grindstones in a windmill, but I can assure you that if there is, it stars a bunch of happy Dutch who probably did it for free.
There are of course very strict, dour, religiously ultraconservative Dutch. But they seem to be few and far between and due to their inherent cheapness, never leave home. This is good because the Dutch are almost universally regarded as being amongst the worst drivers in Europe. No one can quite explain it, but perhaps, the picture below can provide some hint of insight. There are after all, a lot of cyclists in Holland.
The Dutch attitude towards life may have something to do with the pervasive fear that they all live with, and therefore the sort of ‘carpe diem’ attitude. I am referring to the fact that a large part of the country lives below sea level, but really, really close to the sea. Disaster has befallen them numerous times with tragic results and has given rise to interesting stories like the one about the Dutch boy who stuck his finger in the dyke to make sure she retained water. But I never did get that one. Oh well. Perhaps a trip to Amsterdam one day will help. I think I’ll rent a bike.
~ AP
Posted by Anonymous Pundit at 06:37 PM | Comments (26)
June 07, 2005
Sometimes, it’s just better in France…..
Ok, look, we all mock the French for their funny language and strange dining habits, and its ok to do so. Really. They probably just don’t know any better. But the truth is, they do have wonderful wine, and excellent cheese and a strange sort of charm that makes us tolerate them and even want to visit on occasion. The Germans like to do so every 30 or 40 years when their own supply of red wine and runny cheese runs out. They usually visit with tanks.
France is also known for its comfortable attitude towards the human body as is evidenced by the photo below. You can tell who the visitors are. They’re probably from Germany. The woman probably misses her tank.
It’s true. In fact there is an entire city, Cap d’Agdes on the south coast, where everybody runs around like the naked one on the left.
Now I’m not saying it’s for everybody. And thank god for that. (refer back to ‘tank lady’ above) I’m not even saying it’s for me. But what I like, is that at least it’s an option. Not like so many places in North America where everybody enjoys freedom. You’re free to own and in many places carry a gun. But try to get some sun on your ass and they arrest you. Now maybe I’m just crazy, but something seems wrong with that.
~ AP
Posted by Anonymous Pundit at 06:25 PM | Comments (0)
June 05, 2005
To Toe or not to Toe?….is there a question?
You hear lots of interesting conversations in bars these days.
One such conversation that was recently overheard involved the question: “Are ‘camel toes’ attractive? Is it a look to be pursued?”
Well, I can only offer one man’s opinion, but an intensive and informative survey amongst my friends and peers provided the information needed. Although it cost me no less than a slap in the face and two solid groin kicks, I am pleased to share with you the answers to the question(s) and it goes something like this:
“If people point at you and laugh or run away, something is wrong.”
It’s all a matter of style and preference. Styles that enhance our appearance and sexuality have always been sought after and appreciated. But only to a point. And where that point is may change from time to time or even where you live.
For a guy to wear pants that fit nicely and enhance our butt (assuming its worth enhancing) and maybe allow the rest of the ‘package’ to be hinted at can be a good thing. But to wear pants that are so tight as to leave no doubt as to whether you are circumcised or not is never attractive.
Sort of the same with girls I guess. And although I could go on and on with the results of the survey, perhaps it is best if I simply point you towards the attached advertisement and you can make up your own minds on the subject.
As an interesting side note, when we took the survey to Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan, the results were somewhat skewed. A surprisingly large number of male respondents said that they were in fact, “Very much turned on by the sight of camel toes, especially from above and behind.” It wasn’t until much later that we understood why.
~AP
Posted by Anonymous Pundit at 03:13 PM | Comments (0)
The 250 pound puppy named Bob…..
There are many occasions in the hotel and restaurant business when you want to question your sanity for being in it. Sure there’s food, wine, women and song. But then there’s the ugly side. The side where you sit there and feel the need to fill holes in the forest floor with the bodies of your most cherished acquaintances….your customers.
Forget the obvious, the assholes that pollute any other business with their presence alone. Every business gets a few of those whiny complaining sacks of self propelled social excrement that just have to find something wrong with whatever, wherever it is that you are. They always know more about your business than you do and are quick to demonstrate that knowledge by way of the complete lack thereof.
What I’m talking about is the dirty work. The ‘clean up’ functions that could gag a maggot. And they usually involve substances that were recently on the inside of their human hosts. Yeah….ugh! When this happens, it is the puke and poop patrol to the rescue.
But as grotesque as it may be, it is these very same circumstances that provide us with the stress relief we need to calm down and not dismember the buggers that provide the circumstances. In fact, we can even turn them into opportunities for the ritual humiliation of the guests and have a good chuckle while doing so. It is how we cope. Morticians and doctors deal with death all the time. They too have learned to cope in their own special ways. Last night was a good example.
A plugged toilet in a guest room. Great. I was just on my way out. Now gentle reader, there are not a lot of reasons why a toilet gets plugged. If you have a 3 year old in the house, well, it could be anything from a golf ball to a kitten. You never know. But in a hotel room with adults, you know damn well what it is going in. So there you are with bucket, rags and plunger in hand to do the dirty work. You knock on the door.
“Who is it?” (Like who else is he expecting? Peter Pan?)
“Maintenance. Here to take care of the, um, problem.”
When the door opens one of two things happens. One, the aggressive moron who blames you indirectly. “There’s something wrong with your toilet.”
Yeah, you think, the Battle of Leyte Gulf is being reenacted in this dumb bastard’s toilet because he has no control over his eating habits. You want to shout out, “No kidding there’s something wrong sir. The battleship Musashi has been hit but just won’t sink. She’s gonna need some help. And there’s the Yamato and a fleet of destroyer escorts making a run for the open sea. Must be a Japanese submarine down there clogging the whole mess. Jesus Christ sir, how did you manage to eat an entire submarine?”
But what you do instead is more subtle, though no less effective. You walk into the bathroom and do that visible pause, where you look down and give the impression that you need to run away. But being the brave soldier that you are, you press on anyway. Make some comment about being glad you brought all the extra rags. Look nervous and hesitate before going to work. Wipe your brow and slowly get going. Then, no matter how easy it is, make it look like you are really, really working the plunger. Check the handle to make sure it isn’t going to break. And if you have a cell phone, call the front desk and tell them you’re going to be a little longer than expected. Strain at the task, and then finally, when you have saved the day and the customer is convinced that you have somehow magically forced his Volkswagen sized turd on its journey to the sea, you make a show of rolling your aching shoulders. Then when you go to leave tell him that really, “It was no problem at all.” And if you’re a really sick bastard like me, offer to shake hands on your way out the door.
See, it doesn’t matter how aggressive the bugger is before you arrive, making them watch you solve the ‘problem’ they created is a very humbling experience. They know what they did and now you own them.
The second thing that can happen, is dealing with the meek and humbled. In a way they are the worst because they are down right ashamed of what they have done and nobody, myself included, wants other people to deal with ‘that stuff’ that we all do but never feel the need to talk about or share. You see, they have always tried to solve the problem themselves by flushing the toilet several more times than necessary and as such, have created a wet and unpleasant mess on the floor.
At least when the door opens these people are apologetic and they all tend to avert their eyes from yours. And when you walk in and look at the bathroom floor and then back at them, they are like Bob, a 250 pound puppy that knows it was bad but just couldn’t help it. Anyone who has raised a puppy knows this scene; As you stand over the fetid mess on the floor you point at it and then talk to the dog in a deep, solemn voice and say, “Did you do this? Did you?”
The dog of course is cowering, looking away, knowing it has nowhere to go and is utterly deserving of the scorn of its master and god.
So it was with Bob. He may have been a captain of industry a few days ago when he was at work. But right then, he had the status of a puppy who had shit on the floor. When this happens you have to do something. You can’t let them get away with it. You have to strain a little. Make quiet but audible comments like, “Dear God I can’t believe this one…” Then when you leave the room, try not to look them right in the eye. Just slump your shoulders and tell them every thing will be ok and quietly walk away while gently shaking your head from side to side. At this point they could find a horses’ head in their bed and they wouldn’t say a god damned thing. You own them.
As I said, it’s a coping mechanism.
People can get pretty weird about stuff like this. I got a call one evening from a room full of teenage girls who were in town for a basketball tournament. They were all around 15 or 16 years old. Everything was fine until the ‘mean girl’ in the room pointed to the quiet one on the corner and said, “She did it. I think she like, ate a football or something.”
There was a moment of quiet as the girls all thought about how to deal with this suddenly volatile situation. And then, as one, they turned on the weak one and devoured her with comments like, “God, like what did she do in there?” or “She really likes quarter pounders, can you tell?” Anyway, the tears started and she hid under the blankets of a bed. I made as quick an exit as I could and actually blamed the toilet on the way out telling them that I would have the maintenance man check it in the morning. So as you can see I’m not a complete jerk. Of course I was pretending to gag and choke for the theatrical benefit of the other’s, so maybe I am.
So remember, if life serves you lemons, make lemonade. And if you’re going to stay in my hotel, maybe have some oatmeal for breakfast. It’ll do a body good.
~AP
Posted by Anonymous Pundit at 02:34 PM | Comments (0)