Calling People On Their Shit

In the past 24 hours I have encountered 2 big steaming shitpiles in the form of men. People, I suppose. Dudes. F*cking idiots. One at a gas station. One about 15 feet from my back patio, walking his dog.

Smoking Turd At A Gas Station
Technically, this human skidmark was still in his car while smoking. With his window rolled down. While he made a 37-point turn to get his car into position at a pump to pump gasoline, a highly flammable liquid, vapor, and industry, into the car he was in that he was smoking inside of. His window was rolled down. At a gas pump. The tank was on the driver's side. CLOSING THE DISTANCE BETWEEN HIS CIGARETTE AND THE PUMP. Which had gas inside of it. And a cigarette in the dumb face of a guy nearby.

The algebraic equation of these ideas that (A) Cigarettes are slow-burning fires and (B) Gas is Flammable works out like this.
A + B = CrapOnFeet could have blown the block way the F up.
Did not seem to phase him. I yelled out my passenger window;
"HEY! You're smoking at a gas station! HEY DUDE! YOU ARE SMOKING! AT A GAS STATION!"
Nothing. Did not hear me. Or did not understand me. Perhaps I should have Farted it in Morse Code? Farted Smoke Signals? Anybody know where I can get an airhorn?
I drove the F away. The gas station was still there this morning. I'm partly sad about a learning moment being missed-out on. I'm happy nobody got hurt, except for that guy. We need to make a law and/or a gigantic sign that says
"SMOKING AT A GAS STATION WILL BLOW THE SHIT OUT OF THIS FUCKING PLACE."

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Human Dog Shit

This morning I went out and got in the truck, and as is the yoozh in our neighborhood, a dude was walking his Rottweiler. In this case, it rang true that Owner Resembled Pet. Rotts aren't real common in our neighborhood because most people are either walking Pugs, Pits (lots of dour, Eastern-bloc'ers in velour), and mutts. But this guy's Rott was easily 95lbs. And was squattin' for a loaf-leave in the area outside our patio marked, clearly:

NO PETS PLEASE

We are anti-dog shit, not anti-pet. But not a lot of snake nor piranha-walking goes on, so it's PETS and we keep the left-behind doglogs to a minimum. So this guy's dog does what dogs do, and doo he did. Here's where the stank comes in.

The guy sees me see the doo get done, fiddles with a little doo-collection baggie, then walks off. SO NOW I HAVE TO SAY SOMETHING. Because ShitGuy can't bend over before 8:30am. So as he's walking away, wearing his FDNY hat (I'm positive he's never been a firefighter), sweatshorts and headphones and the smell of Smug, he's already looking for me to stop and say something.

So let's get it straight: He balks at a common courtesy, then gets mugged-up about anybody saying anything about it? Dog Shit in Man Suit, this one's for you.

I roll down my window and say "Excuse me, I see you neglected to pick up after your dog."

ManDogShit: (curtly) "Yeah, I will."

Captain Doo-Not: "We try to keep the area clean because kids play around there, and we all pick up after our pets."

DogManShit: (holier than thou) "Yeah, I'll get it on the way back."

Captain ShitYouNot: "Thank you, we all gotta do our part."

HumanDogAssPoopBreathDivorcedShit: "Right, yeah."

Then I go off to work. And don't think I could not wait to get home and see if there was shit outside my patio! I hoped there'd be shit outside my patio! BIG OLD DOG SHIT PILES OF SHIT!!! Because I was gonna say something about it!

There wasn't. No doo. He picked it up. Or somebody did. Or maybe he hid it somewhere nearby and I can't find it. Mostly it's The Attitude his sphinctered-forth that was a bother.

We all have shit to clean up in life. Shit happens. It's Part Of The Gig. And you know when you have to clean it up, AND NOBODY LIKES BEING TOLD TO CLEAN UP THEIR SHIT...

So don't make somebody have to.

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2010 - The Year I Told You So

Why are we making resolutions?
A recent study by the American Institute of Studies & Results resulted in a study that showed Resolutions aren't as valuable as PRINCIPLES. My principles can't be broken. I have exhibited a certain "Principle Flexibility" from time to time, but NEVER have I gone so far as to call the police when it was something I could handle myself. Which is why I invested time and money into learning non-lethal trapping techniques.

But there are goals I do have for the year. Broken down to a smaller basis, it's more of a week-to-week thing for me. Listing them here would be silly, narcissistic, and dissipating of their energy. But when you see my new hairstyle, oh... you'll know we're on the Path, friends.

I see a change happening, however. It may be that I'm entrenched in my mid-30s with a warehouse of possibilities in front of me. But I do see more people extending small courtesies to each other. After a year in Los Angeles the opening of a door for a stranger there was met with a moment of pause as if their exit was to be met with a "LOOK AT MY SCRIPT!" Nothing seemed Free. Everybody expected somebody to want something from them. And guess what? KINDNESS IS FREE. Merging without a blinker, however, is for animal abusers.

2010 is going to be whatever you want it to be. Stop listening to reports of Economic Anemia, Stolen Organs, and Terror, Terror!, TERROR! Be the kind of Person you'd want to hang out with. Show Compassion. Let the Poo River flow under your Serenity Bridge. And stop reading "The Secret."



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Gesturing To The Heavens

Kindness.
To express kindness, truly, is to do so without the intent to do so, and to do so without an idea that you'd ever expect any sort of return gesture of appreciation. To do so that it is done, from the purest of intent, to be Kind.

It's really friggin' hard to be kind sometimes. I try to think of myself as kind, but I think, truly, I'm just courteous. I open doors for people, I try and let people over in traffic if they have a blinker and a commitment to GO. I try and say "excuse me" when walking between people who are talking but standing all over the place on a sidewalk like they own the thing like dickholes.

Doing nice things for other people isn't about what the Do'er gets out of it.
Don't do nice things for others because it makes YOU feel good.
Do nice things for others because it makes THEM feel guilty.

Then they'll buy you things.

And never mistake Kindness for Weakness.
To offer up your service, your help, your home, your money, your food, is to say "I care to give." It's not saying "Oh, no, you should take this from me, I am unworthy and you are more worthy and I'm a worm."
A "Thank You" card is in order.

We could all use some more kindness, that's for sure. And for whatever reason, I have to allow people to be kind to me on THEIR terms, and see the beauty of their intent. But really, if you send me a package through UPS that i HAVE to sign-for...
and you know I'm at work all day...
and I can't sign for it...
then I have to go TO the UPS thing to pick it up...
perhaps a gift card would be in order? Because if I go pick it up, and it's, you know, "cheeky" and I can't really do anything with your gift, you really just sent me an errand.

See how it all goes poorly? Cash. Gift cards. That's what I give.
Because I follow the Golden Rule. Treat others they way they ought to treat you.

Although, a couple years ago my Broham Of Law bought me the DVD set of "Band Of Brothers," and that was a phenomenal gift. THAT's some awesome man presents right there.

Okay, so be nice for the sake of being nice, but try and think ahead of your gift is going to be a pain in the recipient's assmeat. If your gift horse is eating my furniture, you're getting a returned gift horse skeleton, waiting your pick-up at the delivery centre.

Be nice. And be nice when you're being nice. Please.

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Somebody Had To Say It

Well... I finally did it.

I often tell people to open their mouths to the inconsiderate folks in their midsts and let that inconsiderate person, or "assclown," let them know they need to pick it up a notch.

I took a pull off that bottle tonight at the grocery store.

I worked 10 hours today. I was there about 10 hours, is what I'm saying. Cut to the chase, I wasn't in the mood to be held up from getting home. Not by traffic. Not a woman who did F-all for the entire day except find her favorite navy blue capri pants and a shirt with stars on it to match those pants. And wear sunglasses inside.

Why did we invent the roof?

So I saw this woman moseying about the store, cart packed with all sorts of items. She pulled one of my favorite moves: Cart parked in random spot, shopper flits off to find something three rows over, cart is in everyone's way. I usually move the cart to a safe spot. Not until I've deposited cart-ward the most expensive item in the vicinity. This time it was a multi-greens powdered shake mix. That'll run ya 'bout $33 a tankard. Enjoy.

Oddly, I go over my 15 items so I have to go into a regular line, of which 2 are open. I get in behind, you guessed it, the Shaded Wanderer, or "Bitch Nose." I asked God to direct my focus elsewhere, and He answered. I turned to my left, and behind me was a nice older lady (older as in "High-waisted lavendar pants", not older as in "Dude, your aunt is single, right?") She had only two items in her cart, both of them for a surely aloof if not near-death cat. I asked her if she'd like to go ahead of me, she had only a few items.

"Oh, that's so nice, but no thanks. I'm going to lean here on my cart for a moment," she replied. "Sweet ass, though."

I made part of that up.

She had on red pants, but I digress...

As the Lady Still Wearing Sunglasses Indoors (5'6''-ish, bottle-blonde, spray tan, lots of gold jewelry, no discernible income) is finishing her transaction, including $33 for GreenShakes!, her credit card slip is handed back to her JUST AS HER PHONE IN HER PURSE ON THE FLOOR RINGS.

I wouldn't answer it. You wouldn't answer it. Then again, we don't drink box-chardonnay until 5 and then burn it off with a shopping trip. Even though we've been meaning to.

Of COURSE she dug through her purse for her phone before signing her slip. Why the hell else am I writing this in a mu-mu?

So as the guy hands the slip back to her and she launches into a conversation about what to have for dinner, she gets at least 45 seconds (count it off, it's longer than you think) into the chat as though nothing else was happening around her. No shopping. No other people. Zoned out. Until finally she says "Well what do you want me to do about it?"

And I just kind of nonchalantly said "Signing your credit slip would be nice."

The check-out guy had a look of surprise on his face. Ten seconds later, she said "Well, I have to go, I'm at the store and I need to sign my slip." Ten more seconds. An extra minute of time. Of life. Burnt by someone else. My favorite moment was when she hung up and acted exasperated and said to the cashier "Gosh, my daughter, she's done with school and moving back home and she can't figure out what to do for dinner and I'm trying to get settled into my new house, ya know?" She just tried to blame the last minute on HER DAUGHTER and HER LIFE.

The cashier was very nice to me, and laughed as the lady walked away.

Nobody forces you to answer your phone unless you're in a hostage situation, which this ALMOST turned in to. Very simply, being aware of the other people around you, common courtesies, the simplest of niceties can take you very far in life.

The lady behind me with the cat supplies nearly threw out her back trying to lift her 10-lb bucket of cat crap-sand. I offered to help her again when I put the little grocery divider down and said "You should really get smaller, lighter bags." Jeez, what an idiot. Some people, huh?

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