Monday, December 28, 2009

Words Fail Me

This latest terrorist attempt... oh sorry, I mean this latest Man-caused near disaster has me speechless. I'm speechless with stupidity.

Apparently I don't get how denying travelers blankets and pillows will stop a terrorist.

I'm speechless at how Mr. Fiscal Responsibility, who is renting a Hawaiian compound for his friends and family manages to take time out of his busy vacation of golfing and partying to thank the brave citizens for jumping the killer and saving the flight (dude! The bomb was a dud, we should be thankful we weren't mourning the death of potentially thousands of victims on Christmas).

I'm speechless at how this cold blooded terrorist now has all the rights of the American citizens that he attempted to kill and is being treated as though he shoplifted.

I'm speechless how Mr. Golf praised citizens for thwarting an "isolated extremist"... how about citizens doing the job of your inept Department of Homeland Security who had him on a watch list, had a warning from his father, and still let him get on one of our planes.

I'm speechless about the money that will be spent to "review" the "incident" to find out how this happened. We've had a Major in the army e-mailing Al Quada, we've had the Crotch bomber e-mailing Al Quada and his father ratting him out... how do you think it happened other than your incompetence? Hello?

Granted, if the father had e-mailed the warning and said "Greetings, I'm a rich Nigerian banker and need your help..." I can see where that might have been deleted as spam, but still....

I'm speechless at "experts" getting on tv and broadcasting which seats are prime terrorist spots because of their vulnerabilities.

I'm speechless that our DHS leader thinks the system worked, then didn't work.

I'm speechless that somebody isn't pointing their finger at Bush yet (wait for it).

I'm surprised that they didn't say the pants bomber did it because he couldn't get health insurance.

I'm speechless that there is talk that providing x-ray machines that may reveal a passenger's yoohoo is being held up because people will be offended that some stranger will see their x-ray shaped yoohoo.

I'm speechless that our fearless leader has the gall to tell us that "we will not rest until we get those responsible", um, I thought we weren't going to rest until we had jobs, and we weren't going to rest until we had Bin Laden, and we weren't going to rest until we played that back nine... oh wait, that last one is probably the only one that will actually get done.

I'm speechless that the excuse from Gibbs is that there is 500,000 names on the terror watch list... we use computers you dolt, its not just one guy with a freakin pencil so it doesn't take that long to do a search on a name you idiot. And for that matter, if there are 500,000 people we suspect of wanting to kill us... shouldn't we be rounding them up and locking them up instead allowing them to show up at airports and saying "sorry, no ticket for you"? At the very least, the list will be much shorter.

so yeah... I'm speechless, can you tell?

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Enough of the Snow, Someone come take it away

Part of the "fun" of owning Siberian Huskies is that they tend to wake you at 4am because they want to go play in the snow... and boy did we get snow. A ton of snow, 80 feet of snow... ok, it wasn't 80 feet, more like 2, but it drifted to like 4 feet, and then there's the wonderful snowplow that plowed the street which means we had 12 feet of packed chunky snow in our driveway... fine, it wasn't that much, but it felt like it.

So, bright and early, hubby and I were out shoveling out from all this crap, I mean; beautiful serene snow.

After 5 minutes hubby leans on his shovel and says: "Quick, go untie your tubes and squirt us out some 16 year olds to shovel this crap". I explained that the birthing process doesn't necessarily squirt out ready-to-shovel 16 year olds and in this day, they would be obese diabetic sloth children who would call protective services on us for even suggesting we put them to work. "Fine!" hubby snorted (which isn't a good thing to do in the cold because of nose icicle issues), then he proceeded to blame me for being selfish and not having the forward thinking to squirt out some kids 16 years ago so that we wouldn't have to shovel our driveway. I didn't hear the whole rant because I was distracted by someone driving by with a snow blower in the back of their truck and was trying to whore myself out to get them to come blow our cars free. Me, selfish? pffft. When the truck kept driving I turned to cursing them and flipped them off, but that's ineffective when wearing mittens.

After we had shoveled our drive, cleared off the trucks and reminisced about the good old days when neighbors came out and helped each other and people with snow blowers would spontaneously help their neighbors out, blah blah, bitch and moan... the neighborhood came alive with people with snow blowers helping each other out. THE BASTARDS!

So we left and went to Starbucks... and tried running them over on the way out of the driveway.

Oh, and you'll be pleased to know that my company's "holiday" party was finally canceled... so I bought a dress for nothing and don't have to teeter around in 2 feet snow in heels and freeze my butt off getting there... I'm crushed, which is why I'm sitting around in sleepy pants sipping hot chocolate. I'll get over it.

Friday, December 18, 2009

She's Fallen and She Got Back Up

Its been a while since I’ve ranted, but don’t fear, I’m still keeping a journal of rant topics. Unfortunately by the time I get off my butt and write them out, they’ll be so old that I won’t remember why these things made me so mad. Whatever, you’ll just have to suffer through them anyway.

Since I’m snowbound by the STORM OF THE CENTURY OF THE MILLENNIUM OF THE UNIVERSE, and thankfully didn’t have to go to a stupid company “holiday” party (because my firm is too much of a pussy to call it Christmas and face the wrath of morons that scream “SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND PRIVATELY OWNED FIRM” or something like that), because instead of screwing us out of $35 bucks for the party and canceling it, they moved it to Sunday, where I’m sure we’re now double-booked with someone’s wedding reception and all of the guests will be wondering A.) who are all the drunks, and B.) why do they speak in acronyms and describe the food like “That curry is a paradigm shift outside the box”.

So, instead of wearing uncomfortable heels and pretending like I actually LIKE the people I work with and am not at a party simply because its cheap food and free alcohol and the annual bet when someone wearing a WAAAAY too small strapless dress will fall out of it while doing the electric glide, I’m in sleepy pants with stew in the crock pot procrastinating on doing anything because we’re HAVING An UNPRECEDENTED BLIZZARD OF EPIC PROPORTIONS DURING CLIMATE CHAOS GLOBAL WARMING-VILLE.

Which reminds me of my blog title and you’re probably getting impatient and waiting for me to actually get to the subject... fine, be that way...

I called my mom. Well, actually she called my cell phone while I was pushing a cart filled with heavy dog food in the pet store, which isn’t conducive to answering a phone ringing in the bowels of my bag, but by the time I dug it out and removed the gum wrapper off the case, she had hung up, so I had to call her back.

She spent 20 minutes yammering about life in general while I tried to maneuver the wide load cart through the narrow crap filled aisles until she got to the part where she said “Oh, and I fell down and I wanted to tell you before your sister called and told you.” That stopped me cold in the aisle because the last time she “called before my sister called me” was when she chopped the tip of her finger off with a bandsaw.

Apparently, since she only had cataract surgery done on one eye, her depth perception is crap and she didn’t see that the sidewalk was messed up and she fell, but some nice people (one guy driving by stopped) helped her and made sure she was ok and then saw her to her house and sometimes its nice having your mom live in a small town because had she lived where I do, swarms of idiots would have picked her clean like pirana in seconds. Apparently she cut her chin and scraped her nose and messed up her hand a little, but she claims she’s fine. Of course in the aisle of Petsmart I’m all freaking out because old people bones are more brittle than those balsa wood airplanes you got as a kid and I was picturing one of her arm bones snapping like so much airplane wing with that sickening crunch noise. “Don’t make me put you in a home!” I said, probably too loudly because some woman walking by me stopped and glared at me. “I’ll put my mom in a home if I want!” I snarled at her.

Then I spent the next 15 minutes insisting that I would pay for her cataract surgery premiums but she had to call and make an appointment for the other eye ASAP or else I would put her in a home, which involved the usual “yes, I know you can take care of yourself, no I don’t think you’re senile, yes I know you can save up the money, but why owe an insurance company when you can just owe me money because I don’t charge nearly as much interest as an insurance company, and yes I know those government bastards are trying to take away your medicare benefits and no I promise that I won’t eat you even if you’re made into a tasty italian dish because you aren’t even italian I picture you more as a veal dish, but a lot tougher, and no I won’t break your arm if you don’t pay me back and yes I love you and would visit you in the home if I did stick you in one.” until I could convince her that I wasn’t sending goons to cart her away and she could go back to playing solitaire on her laptop with the tv turned up too loud.

About a half hour later my sister called: “Mom fell down!” she yelled at me all dramatic and freaking out.

“Well, get off the fricken phone and pick her up” I yelled and hung up on her.

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

Swine Flu Resources

Ok, this post has nothing to do with Swine Flu, unless you count Barbara Mikulski, which can confuse some people.

I’m so relieved to know that Tiger Woods failed to control his vehicle and got a ticket, so I expect that all of the reporters who are covering the story (which includes EVERY reporter in the world) will now go about their business and report on more important things (no, not the State Dinner crashers) something else more newsworthy.

What, I hear you saying, could be more newsworthy than a golfer running into a tree? Well, perhaps one of our wonderful Senators actually introducing an amendment that will guarantee woman mammogram access when they turn 40. What, I hear you moaning, why is that newsworthy? Well, I’ll tell you why that’s newsworthy and should send you into fits of rage... why do we need that amendment?

Didn’t your wonderful Government come out and swear up and down that even though a Government agency says that you don’t NEED a mammogram until well after you turn 50, and after every breast cancer place threw a world class hissy fit over that announcement, that our fearless Government leaders promised that mammogram decisions would remain solely between you and your doctor? Yes, they did... so why an amendment?

Because our wonderful 40 gazillion page healthcare bill that our Government keeps trying to ram down our throats quickly (even though it won’t take effect for years) says that decisions on your health will ALWAYS be between you and your doctor... we just ain’t paying for a whole lot of stuff.

So, yes, you can just go ahead and get one of them there mammograms, but by GAWD you’ll have to pay for it all by yourself if you aren’t 50. That’s why Babs Mikulski of Maryland has introduced this lovely amendment. You may be asking yourself... um, where’s the pap smear love? Where’s that prostate amendment? Where’s the amendment that says I don’t have to take the blue pill and can get a new hip if I need it? Well, nobody has proposed those amendments, so you can just talk that stuff over with your doctor, sorta like those “remember when burst appendix removal was covered under the old healthcare system” talks you have with old friends, and then you can just lay on the floor of the exam room and die because you wanted “universal” healthcare.

Frankly I’m pretty sure that alien anal probe IS covered under the healthcare plan and it will be performed by the IRS to pay for everything.