You Gotta Love Old People

This morning I went to Panera Bread Co. to get one (okay, two) of their warm fluffy bagels. I was standing in line behind an older couple (late 60's to early 70's) who had ordered two coffees and were not pleased with the cup sizes they were presented with.

"Wait, this is the size we ordered? We wanted small," said the old fart, er, man.

"I'm sorry, I though you wanted regular sized coffee," replied the girl behind the counter. She held up the two cups. The small size was only slightly smaller - perhaps four ounces. The man indicated that he wanted the small.

"Dude, don't fill the cup all the way or just don't drink it all," I thought to myself.

"Would you like the small instead?" asked the patient Panera girl.

"Yes, that's what I wanted."

"Do you want me to refund the difference? It's 22 cents."

Apparently he had already paid for his coffee and breakfast.

"Yes."

Are you freaking kidding me?

"Ok, I'll need your card to run the transaction."

You're going to make her go through a whole credit card transaction for a 22 cent refund? I'll bet the bank's gonna love that when they read their daily report.

I almost stepped forward to offer the man a quarter just to shut him up, but somehow I knew it would be to no avail. As Butthead used to giggle to himself, "Old people. Huh hah huh hah."

I'm A Murderer

Something terrible happened the other day while taking a casual Sunday commute. I was driving on a through way past a golf course when I came upon a deep dip in the road. I slowly drove through it and as I was coming out of the dip I saw a mother duck and her ducklings waddling across the road just at the top of the rise. I slammed on my brakes but it was too late. As I rolled through, I prayed to God that I didn't run over any of them but I knew I wouldn't be that lucky. I looked in my rear view mirror and sure enough, I had flattened one of the ducklings and halfway flattened another one. My heart sank - I felt terrible. And there was nothing I could do at that point.

Not that I aim for them, but I've run over squirrels and possums many times and have gotten over the guilt within a mile or two. Not this time. I still feel guilty. So technically this means that I've committed one and a half counts of duckslaughter. I'm already going to hell, so it's not like this one incident is going to determine my fate. But it still sucks.

Ultimate Gayness

Is it possible for something to be (supposedly) badass and gay at the same time (not that there's anything wrong with that)? Let's examine this. At my weekly sports bar gig, there are a couple of TV's that show Ultimate Fighting (or MMA or whatever the eff you want to call it), and it's all I can do to keep from spitting out my beer from laughter when I glance up and witness these tough guys grappling around the ring like Brokeback Cowboys in pretzel positions. I hate to break it to them, but prancing around like Buffalo Bill hiding his peen is more of a manly act than this. Find a more audacious sport, fellas. Like hopscotch.

"I only have some knowledge that the language of your country"

I have multiple Hotmail accounts due to the various MySpace pages for all of my bands. Every once in awhile I randomly receive messages from foreign chicks searching aimlessly for a mate. Like a teenage boy fumbling with a bra strap, their fledgling attempts at the English language are quite often amusing and entertaining. Of course, my mother is so desperate for any of her three sons to marry, she'd probably encourage me to respond to the one who sent this to me just last night:

Hello,
I was engaged in the work of beauty, I personality moderate person, I beautiful image of icing on the cake for my career, but who has never married. I like foreign men humor, romantic, generous, so the men would like to do with friends or get married, you may have to wait for my people? I like beauty, travel, swimming, listening to music. I only have some knowledge that the language of your country, I would like to know more about you, because I usually relatively busy, if not mind, you can go to the following address my private wrote to me the address below: http://www.-----.html
(Direct open this link, you can find me, Free,and I often open letter here to watch a friend. There are more private photos I) I'm looking forward to you for your letter.

Does that usage of nouns, verbs and adverbs get any prettier? I think not.

An Idiot Spreading Wisdom

We have a young whippersnapper at work who comes in part-time after getting out of school in the afternoon. The other day he was bemoaning the fact that he's been "talking to" two girls and can't decide which one to proceed in asking out on a date. And he was asking for advice about what to do, as if I was some sort of sage guru of love. First of all, anyone who knows me is cognizant of the fact that seeking dating advice from me is ludicrous and counterproductive. Secondly, there is the small matter of a fact of life that we cannot control and that I imparted on this young man: that all men are idiots.

There are many levels and layers of idiocy that we as men travel through during our lifetime. As kids, we're simply oblivious to the outside world and the consequences of our thoughts and actions. But as we reach our teen years, it turns into what I call "complete f***ing idiocy". It morphs over time and through the years into different categories - incorrigible idiocy, unadulterated idiocy, irreparable idiocy, and so on. By the time we die, we're just plain "idiots". Men are idiots in any and all scenarios, whether it's school, family, or work. But nothing brings out the true colors of our idiocy like dealing with the opposite sex. Women are our Kryptonite, causing detrimental harm to our brain functionality as well as our collective psyche. They make us do and say things that we would never, for the life of us, attempt to do in any normal situation. This is the power that women have over us, and there is nothing we can do to prevent it.

Once I explained this to him, he gazed at me with a blank stare of confusion. "Poor bastard," I thought to myself. "He has no idea."

This Week's Grammar Lesson

I've always been a bit of a spelling & grammar Nazi. Today I was reminded of a common f-up that many people make regarding the use of the word "alumni". Folks, the word "alumni" is plural and "alumnus" is singular. If you are referring to yourself only, you should say, "I am an alumnus of The University of Alabama." If you are an alumnus who thinks you're an alumni, then you shouldn't have become an alum in the first place. Let's keep our eye on the ball, shall we? Toodles.