What's the difference between a poodle and a sheep?
Apparently none for some people.
I have this thing lately, where ignorance is really pissing me off. I can tell you that I don't feel badly for the people who bought the sheep. They're ignorant.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Friday, April 20, 2007
Comment of the Day, April 20, 2007
I'm not sure why the comment of the day has been happening at the grocery store. Baby Kaos and I weren't at the usual grocery store. We were at the big-chain grocery store, where they have things like the best cheese in the world. The other grocery store is locally owned and while we can get locally grown fruits and veggies, and the cheese is good, it doesn't compare.
Anyway, so we're in the checkout line and the checker said to Baby Kaos, “Oh, Mom took you out of the cart. That's ok! I'll just flirt with you over here instead.”
And I said to Baby Kaos, “Are you going to flirt with her?”
And he did, because flirting is his new trick. But, he's not a circus seal, so I'm trying to limit performances, yo.
And the checker, who seems to be a nice lady—I usually try and go through her line—tells me that she has a 3-month-old at home, and she asked how old Baby Kaos is. Then we started talking about names and she told me her son's name and I told her my son's name and we agreed that we named our babies with good names.
And I said, “We have one of the top 10 most common last names, so we wanted to go with something uncommon for a first name.”
And the bagger, who is probably about 55 felt this was his opportunity to pipe up. He said, “What's your last name?”
And I told him. Common last name—didn't think too much of it except I did kick myself a little for opening that can of worms. But, it's not like they don't have my vital information in their goddamned club card database. So, again, didn't think too much of it.
So then I turned to the checker to continue my conversation with her. And we started talking a bit about common last names.
And then the bagger said, “Well, what's your maiden name?”
And I said, “Smith.” Which it isn't. But, the bagger thought it was funny that I was a Smith and I married an Anderson. Fucking hilarious.
Inside my head I said, “None of your fucking business.”
Then he said, “Your hands are pretty full. Do you need help out today?”
And I minded my p's and q's and politely said, “Nope. We can manage. Thanks anyway, though.”
Strange. Why the fuck do you need to know my last name and my maiden name? So you're trying to make conversation, which is a learned art. But, it's really none of your business.
And, I know you're trying to do your job, but do you want to know what type of vehicle I drive and get my license plate number so that you can track me down and ax murder me? Or, perhaps you know the guy at the locally-0wned grocery store and you're working the child molester scene together. Ok, the last two parts were a little paranoid-Jew, but you know what I'm sayin.
Anyway, so we're in the checkout line and the checker said to Baby Kaos, “Oh, Mom took you out of the cart. That's ok! I'll just flirt with you over here instead.”
And I said to Baby Kaos, “Are you going to flirt with her?”
And he did, because flirting is his new trick. But, he's not a circus seal, so I'm trying to limit performances, yo.
And the checker, who seems to be a nice lady—I usually try and go through her line—tells me that she has a 3-month-old at home, and she asked how old Baby Kaos is. Then we started talking about names and she told me her son's name and I told her my son's name and we agreed that we named our babies with good names.
And I said, “We have one of the top 10 most common last names, so we wanted to go with something uncommon for a first name.”
And the bagger, who is probably about 55 felt this was his opportunity to pipe up. He said, “What's your last name?”
And I told him. Common last name—didn't think too much of it except I did kick myself a little for opening that can of worms. But, it's not like they don't have my vital information in their goddamned club card database. So, again, didn't think too much of it.
So then I turned to the checker to continue my conversation with her. And we started talking a bit about common last names.
And then the bagger said, “Well, what's your maiden name?”
And I said, “Smith.” Which it isn't. But, the bagger thought it was funny that I was a Smith and I married an Anderson. Fucking hilarious.
Inside my head I said, “None of your fucking business.”
Then he said, “Your hands are pretty full. Do you need help out today?”
And I minded my p's and q's and politely said, “Nope. We can manage. Thanks anyway, though.”
Strange. Why the fuck do you need to know my last name and my maiden name? So you're trying to make conversation, which is a learned art. But, it's really none of your business.
And, I know you're trying to do your job, but do you want to know what type of vehicle I drive and get my license plate number so that you can track me down and ax murder me? Or, perhaps you know the guy at the locally-0wned grocery store and you're working the child molester scene together. Ok, the last two parts were a little paranoid-Jew, but you know what I'm sayin.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Comment of the Day, April 7, 2007
At the grocery store this morning, the checker said, “Do you have any plans for Easter?”
I said, “No, we don't really do much. How about you?”
And she proceeded to tell me what she was going to do, and that I must be excited because this is Baby Kaos' first Easter. But, that's not what this blog is about.
This blog is about this:
When we got out to the car, I turned to Zel and said, “First Easter. Honestly.”
We drove in silence for a few minutes. And then I said, “I should have told her that we were going to paint pentagrams on the living room floor and dance around naked.”
And Zel said, “With chicken blood.”
I said, “No, we don't really do much. How about you?”
And she proceeded to tell me what she was going to do, and that I must be excited because this is Baby Kaos' first Easter. But, that's not what this blog is about.
This blog is about this:
When we got out to the car, I turned to Zel and said, “First Easter. Honestly.”
We drove in silence for a few minutes. And then I said, “I should have told her that we were going to paint pentagrams on the living room floor and dance around naked.”
And Zel said, “With chicken blood.”
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