Have We Learned Nothing?

love_textingWhile driving home from work the other day, I witnessed a curious sight that made me want to punch the face of the person committing the crime.

I was sitting at a red light when I saw a teen driver on the opposite side of the intersection waiting for traffic to clear so he could make a left turn.

As he waited to turn, I couldn’t help but notice the cigarette that was dangling from left hand outside the window. Strike One.

Then as he continued to creep forward, I saw that he was looking down, then up, then down, then up. Shortly after that he raised his hand and, as you might have guessed by now, he was using it to send text messages. Strike Two.

And as if that wasn’t enough, in the middle of it all he was distracted by a young lady riding her bike on the sidewalk.

Strike Three—get your ass out of the car and sit down for your tongue-lashing.

Look here, you fucking twat waffle. Have we learned nothing about the dangers of texting while driving? I know that at 18 you think you’re fucking invincible and that you’re never going to die, but guess what? Shit happens—really bad shit happens and one day, whether through your own fault, at the hands of another or just nature taking its course, you will die.

I sincerely hope that one day, just for the sake of karma, you’re rear-ended by one of your high school cronies that was texting one of their friends. If that’s what it takes for all of you to learn your lesson, then so be it. Hell, this goes for adults, too.

In the event that the aforementioned scenario never takes place, what schools need today is a new version of Scared Straight! or an updated, even more graphic [and high definition] version of Red Asphalt (WARNING: cheesy but you’ll see some brain soup) to teach these little shitheads the importance of paying fucking attention while driving. This goes for you too, Maria Shriver, because cutesy little dioramas featuring the school’s best thespians fall short telling the real stories.

I may be coming off like an ass here but I take such a stand because I’ve got a family to look after and with a road filled with assholes such as yourself not paying attention to how they are driving, within seconds my house could be home to a widow and orphan—and not the typesetting kind.

sprousebrotherssuitelifeAhem. That’s all I got. Oh, except for a quick note to that other teenager who, following the rules of the road, rode his bike past me before I made a right turn onto my street.

I’ve got nothing against your cycling skills, kid, but you sure as shit could use a haircut because you looked like one of these idiots.


Now playing: John Lennon – Instant Karma
via FoxyTunes

Share this post:

add to del.icio.us : Add to Blinkslist : add to furl : Digg it : add to ma.gnolia : Stumble It! : add to simpy : seed the vine : : post to facebook : :

A Glimmer of Hope

In my previous post I had mentioned that we couldn’t afford to buy Ann’s Advair inhalers because of their ridiculous cost of $300 (without health insurance).

This is when it pays to work in a medical center.

After hearing of her plight from Ann’s father (who also works there), one of the local doctors decided that this wasn’t the way things should be and handed Ann’s dad the following:


Two samples of Advair. Now the two of us can breathe again, Ann literally and me figuratively. And this is what being a doctor is about: caring for the needs of your patients and helping those who need it, not letting them suffer because the cost of their prescriptions are astronomical.

Okay, other things. Because of the whole layoff thing and me working a suck-ass job, naturally, we have had to let some things fall by the wayside. One of those things is a credit card that I have been sending some cash here and there but not exactly what they are asking for.

So now it’s come to a point where the India-based autodialer keeps punching in my number and calling me (which is the card issuer’s right, I suppose) at home and on my cell phone. While the name and number appear on my home phone, they don’t on my cell phone.

Rather than have to reach into my pocket every single time they call to see who it is, I decided to save the number and assign these guys their own ringtone, which is below:

Not only does that song rock even decades later, it also tips me off as to who is calling. If you can’t figure it out, well, I could help you but it really is pretty obvious.

Don’t hurt your brains to hard in trying to figure out the issuing bank, people 🙂

Now playing: Johnny Paycheck – Down To My Last Dime
via FoxyTunes

Share this post:

add to del.icio.us : Add to Blinkslist : add to furl : Digg it : add to ma.gnolia : Stumble It! : add to simpy : seed the vine : : post to facebook : :

Updating and Stuff

In the extremely unlikely event that the job market starts to get better and people start hiring, I’ve been spending this cool evening updating my resume and trying to do some networking through some job sites.

Because something needs to happen–and soon.

See, like most people, Ann needs to breathe in order to live. At the moment, it’s becoming rather difficult without the use of her inhaler which, when covered by my former health care provider, cost a measly $40. Measly = with what I used to get paid. If she were to get the same inhaler without insurance, it would cost fucking $300.

That’s, like, a good portion of one of my lousy paychecks and still a lot of money with a decent paycheck and no benefits. Talk about highway robbery.

Then there’s The Kid who is currently lying on the couch and occasionally waking up in tears, his little frame burning up with a fever. While he is slowly cooling down, he’s still pretty sick. Thankfully, he’s covered under Healthy Families and his doctor visit shouldn’t cost much nor will any of his prescribed medications. Hopefully, he will just require some R&R.

Having a sick child and a wife that can’t breathe properly really sucks, and I feel like a real worthless jackass for not having the proper health insurance to take care of them both. I hate to see the both of them suffer, and my only hope is that I don’t get sick since I don’t get paid days off at my dog-and-pony show.

In case you couldn’t tell, yes, I’m pretty down at the moment. Sorry.

The song you see in my signature is an instrumental which sets my current mood perfectly: it’s dark, ominous, and gives the feeling of anticipation as if something–good, bad or indifferent–is about to happen.

Because at this point, it must.

Now playing: The Alan Parsons Project – In the Lap of the Gods
via FoxyTunes

A Weekend Away


You might recall a few months ago I had mentioned that The Kid and I were going camping at a local park. We did and it was a blast.

What I failed to mention was that in October, there was another campout at said park and we were going to that one, too.

Well, said event is happening tomorrow night and it’s going to be a good time as this event is Halloween-themed, so we will go trick-or-treating from tent to tent, decorate a pumpkin and oh yes, we will go “ghost hunting” late into the night.

The only major difference between this time and last is that the weather is unusually warm for October.

As I glance at the thermometer on my desk, it’s telling me that the outdoor temperature is a balmy 72 degrees—at 11:00 p.m. In October.

Seriously, what the hell? Would you believe that a few days ago we had three straight days of rain? Okay, it was rain in the most academic sense in that it was wet and falling from the sky but man, so much for easing into warmer temperature! No no no, we can’t have that. We just had to be blasted with an unruly 95-degree heat wave that, for the love all things holy, (edit) I hope* cools down by tomorrow night when we set up camp.

You know, s’mores and a campfire are fine and well but in this heat? I’m not so sure it’s a good idea. Give me some cooler temperatures any day of the week and I’m fine.

Ah well. I gotta get going. We had a potluck at work today and I pretty much snacked on anything I could get my hands on during my entire shift, and it’s seriously catching up with me. Or should I say, running right through me. Ahem.

I need some water—and a closer bathroom.

I’m out until Sunday afternoon. Have a great weekend!

* Note to self: proofread thoroughly next time.

Let’s Go Dodgers!

The Kid wanted to draw something for me to hang at my desk, so here’s my request:


This will be posted in my cubicle tomorrow and will remain there throughout the remainder of the playoffs and–dare I say it–World Series.

And what a great series it was: a come-from-behind victory, Dodger bats practically shutting down St. Louis’ two best starters, and Padilla throwing bullets in the clincher. Not quite time to celebrate but hey, we’re off to face whoever makes it out alive in the Rockies/Phillies series.

And hey, did you hear that the Angels swept the Red Sox? Could this possibly be the year we here in southern California see a Freeway Series in October as opposed to the usual one we see during the last few days of Spring Training?

Only time will tell but in the meantime, I’m enjoying what the Dodgers have done so far. It make have taken years to finally get Kemp and Ethier to produce some stellar numbers but it’s far from my original thought of “Who the hell are these guys?” back in 2006, the same going for Russell Martin and James Loney who all joined the team that same year.

Let’s keep the ball rolling, guys. Rest up and be ready for the NLCS!