I am watching the new tv show Chicago Code and they had a bomb issue and used a little robot to go in and look at the bomb and poke at it and of course it reminded me of a story.

One trip to Paris, Travel Chick came to visit me with her friend Katie. Travel Chick and I dropped Katie at the main entrance to the Louvre. There was no long line, unusual to say the least.

We saw that part of the plaza was taped off with yellow tape, so we walked over to see what was going on and as we were standing there the bomb squad showed up. The bomb squad is a very select group of handsome men in uniforms that I think were custom tailored.

So they roll out the robot and started poking at a backpack that someone had left leaning up against a statue. They poked and poked and finally blew the backpack up and out came someones dirty underwear flying up all over the plaza.

After the initial excitement of watching the bomb squad I wondered who was stupider, the person that left the backpack or us for standing around watching a possible bomb get blown up.

I'll leave it to you to decide.

Something just struck me, imagine the story that the forgetful owner of the backpack has to tell if they were standing there watching.

Forget it

Things are so sad. I see a good bumper sticker on 580 and forget it before I get home to blog about it.

Am I going to progressively not be able to remember more and more things? Cause if I am

Wait what was I talking about?

WTF???

I was recently told that the California DMV offers educational material in 40 languages, in fact they will even give those people that cannot read a verbal drivers test.

I'd like to know why you have to take a test to drive a car but you don't have to take one to have a child?

WTF?

580 bumper stickers

CONDOMS ARE MUCH EASIER TO CHANGE THAN DIAPERS.

Bumper sticker on a car on 580. Good advice.

Vegas Baby

I went to Vegas on Saturday for the wedding of Sara & Brandon. It was really nice, I was surprised at the wedding industry in Sin City. More on that later.

I think eavesdropping and people watching does not get much better that Vegas. It started right in the airport. As I am leaving the airport I overhear a young boy saying:

I haven't been that horny......

and I passed out of range and don't know more than that.

Then there was the cab driver that looked just like Scotty Nguyen, the 1998 World Series of Poker champion. I know he has not won lately, but come on, driving a cab?

Then I get to my hotel, I check in and then head to the elevator, sitting on the floor talking into the phone is a guy

"I have been married for less than 72 hours. I arranged for a room with a view of the strip. You have given me a room with no view of the strip. You have given me a crappy room, you gave what was easiest for you. You paid no attention to what I asked for for my honeymoon."

OK, sounds like a lousy deal. My question is: you are married for less than 72 hours and you are sitting on the floor in the hotel screaming at a hotel clerk about your honeymoon, so who is that woman that looks like your mother sitting next to a person that looks like she might be your new wife?

Then riding in the elevator with a young girl complaining about her hair and how she has a gray hair. I lean over and whisper "trust me, you never have to have a gray hair on your head" the man she was with giggled.

Then it was off to the wedding. Sara & Brandon got married at the Little Chapel of Flowers. I was amazed at the business of getting peeps married. The bridal couple arrives in a limo and everyone hangs around until their time slot. This chapel does about four weddings an hour. I got there a little early and was able to watch a few people come to get married. They ran the gambit, from the traditional bride in the long white dress to the entire wedding party that looked like they just walked away from the stripper pole. Great people watching.

It was really a great ceremony and I was very happy to have participated.

And then on the way out of town I arrived at the airport and smiled as a young girl hung over a trash can holding her hair out of the way as she puked and I said a quick thank you to who ever is in charge that I gave up drinking a long time ago or I would have been one of those very hung over people on my very early morning flight home.

And there was the unfortunate incident of my cell phone meeting some bubbles, but sometimes what happens in Vegas does stay in Vegas.

Sick

I am watching the news and am yet once more sickened by the people. And I use the term people very loosely. I am not even sure these things are worthy of being called human, let alone people.

The Oakland police are looking for two perhaps more men that followed a seven year old boy into a bathroom in a boys & girls club and raped him.

At least two, perhaps more????

I will never understand rape. I will never understand the rape of a child.

I will never understand why animals like these walk the planet.

Bad girl, bad girl

OK, so I have had a couple of days to think about bad girl driving school and what I think is that it is a total waste of time. There were people there that were there for the third time, so you gotta ask - how much good does it really do?

The instructor was a 59 year old, ex-dead head, that was having hot flashes, did not shave her underarms and needs to invest in a much better bra. She was also a cat rescuer. She has 8 cats that live in her home and 5 more in the garage. Then there are all the ones she traps so she can get them fixed so they don't have little kitties.

This was supposed to be the "comedy" traffic school and it was not very funny. Not that there is anything funny about traffic violations, but one would think that if they advertise "comedy" it would be funny. Not so much.

The people ranged from 16 year old speeders to one little old Asian lady who looked about 500 and I wondered how she could even see over the dash to drive, let alone get a ticket. There were 34 of us in the class, 25 speeders and the rest did other stupid stuff. Guess we all can't be speeders.

Then there were the talkers. Sitting right behind me. For the first half of the class they spoke in a low irritating buzz and I looked at them a couple times, hoping they would get the hint. But no.... After the lunch break they sat there and talked in their every day voices, I finally spoke up.

Excuse me!!!! Then I turned to them and said, would you please be quiet. I am trying to listen to the instructor!!

I wanted to add - you know I don't want to be here anymore than you do, but since I'm here I'd like to be able to fucking hear what she is saying!!!

Them woman sitting next to me said "right on sister" as she snorted - her nose ran the entire class.

So, what did I get out of this class? Speeding is not good. Not only does it put your life in danger, it puts other peoples lives in danger. I also learned that the real punishment for speeding is not the $275 I had to pay for the ticket, nor the $39 I had to pay to attend comedy traffic school, no the real punishment is having to sit in a room with a woman suffering from hot flashes with control of the air conditioning for 8 hours on a chair that was comfortable for about 30 seconds listening to her talk about feral cats, while wanting to smack the talkers and give the woman next to me a tissue.

Bad Girl Driving School

Tomorrow I am off to Bad Girl Driving School.

Some of you may remember that a few months ago I was popped for speeding.

Well I pay the piper this weekend. I have to go and sit from 8 in the morning until 4 in the afternoon and listen to a comedian tell me it is bad to drive fast.

What if they are not funny?

I'll let you know.

And yeah, I was doing 83 in a 65. And yeah again, I have been using my don't speed control while driving and I will say again NOBODY but me is driving the fucking speed limit. And a third yeah, that pisses me off.

To Go or Not To Go

Imagine it if you can. Your wife is shot in the head and you are scheduled to fly the fucking space shuttle to the space station. What would you do?

I'd like to think that if I was the one in rehab recovering from a bullet to my head, I'd still want the person I love most in the world to fulfill their dreams. I would hope that even if I could not speak they would know that.

I'd like to think if I was the one scheduled to drive the shuttle I would be willing to give it up for the one with the bullet in their head and that the one in the bed would know that.

So, how do you make that decision. To go or not to go?

Will some people always look at Commander Kelly and think - there goes the guy that left his wife in rehab after she got shot in the head and went up in the space shuttle?

Will some people look at Representative Gifford and think oh poor thing, she was in rehab and her husband left her bedside to go fly the space shuttle?

Let's face it how often would this situation crop up in a normal every day life? How can anyone judge this decision? How can anyone know them better than they know each other? Why is there the need to justify this decision to the public?

I say fly safe Commander Kelly.

I say get better Representative Gifford.

I say everybody else butt out.

Rude People

I am reading a book called "I See Rude People" by Amy Alkon. She talks about the rudeness we all encounter every day. From the asshole that cuts you off on the highway to the person giving out personal information on their cell phone while having lunch next to you.

I know I for one am sick and tired of people being rude. I am at the point where I don't even want to go to the movies because people seem to think that they are sitting in their own living room and they can talk and do whatever they want.

Rudeness comes in all forms. I am reminded of a littering situation, I find littering very rude. Anyway, one morning, long ago I was riding BART to work. They guy sitting across from me decided to clean out his briefcase. Not a problem so far. Well the problem came when he finished up as he came to his stop and stuffed all the papers he did not want into the crack next to his seat and got up and left the car.

I sat there and thought "are you fucking kidding me?" So I got up and moved to where he was sitting and took all that paper. I went into work and taped things back together and figured out what his name was, where he worked, who his boss was, how much he made, how much other people in his department made, how much was being budgeted for salaries in the coming year.

I wrote a letter to his boss, explaining that I did not appreciate his employees using BART as his personal trash can. That leaving all that information for someone else to pick up was just stupid. I guess I was hoping for some kind of answer because I did sign my name.

The boss took it very seriously because he found me and called me. This was way before so much information was available on the internet about us all, so an impressive feat. He assured me that his employees did not consider BART their private trash can and you can be believe that this particular employee will never do something like this again. Is there any thing we can do to make this up to you. I said no, but thank you.

Then the guy calls me to apologize and could he take me to lunch?

Yeah, right. Like I just got you reamed a new asshole at work and I'm going to let you know where I work and who I am?

Needless to say that did not happen, but it all made me feel good.

Perhaps I am going to find that whatever it was that allowed me to do that and confront some rude people.

Sunday Ritual Returns

So, while I have not been blogging about it I am still reading the Sunday Obits and wondering about them. Last week there was an obit about a Japanese guy that was sent to an internment camp during world war two. Now that is bad enough, but then he got drafted.

What is up with that? We don't trust you enough to live freely in the country you were born in. We are going to take your family's possessions.

And now we are are going to draft you into the army so that you can serve your country.

Some things make me sad to be an American.

Regular blogging resolution

My friend Mona has a friend named Tracy that recently was pointed in the direction of my blog. Tracy thinks my posts are amusing, that I am funny, well sometimes I agree with her, so I am resolving to blog more often.

Thanks Tracy, it is all your fault from now on.