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The Kindness of Strangers

27 Aug

Last night Jeff and I went to see my favourite band. Well, favourite band that still actively tours, but they’re still in my top three bands I love of all time. The Hold Steady playing a free outdoor show; sounded like the perfect evening.

For the most part it was too; we ran into some friends, the openers were moderately entertaining, we drank bad beer and people-watched and let the exhaustion of our weeks slowly slip away from us. It wasn’t too hot out and we got a good place to stand. All in all, an excellent concert.

During the wait before the band came on (which was long – I’m compulsive so we got there early) we sat on a picnic table drinking beer and talking, and when Jeff got up to get a beer this guy wandered over. Fairly nondescript, lanky, brown hair and bearded, and a pretty sweet tattoo of a robot fighting a dinosaur on his left forearm. He asked if he could sit with us and I said okay.

That’s the thing about shows like this. People are chill. The Hold Steady attracts a crowd that’s sort of a weird hybrid of hipsters, hippies, party people, druggies, college kids, older folks… you name it, we saw it there. He sat with us and we talked after Jeff came back with beer. His name was Zack, he’d just gotten back into town (Lincoln) from Austin Texas, he liked bands like The Hold Steady and Radiohead and Modest Mouse.

As the conversation progressed he realized that he’d left his phone in his friend’s car. His friends were supposed to come back to the show, but he had no way of contacting them without his cell phone, and the crowd was getting large and milling, making finding people next to impossible. He was clearly stranded, stuck in Omaha over night, with no real way of getting back to Lincoln save for camping out in a doorway overnight and then hopping a train in the morning (his idea, not ours).

So Jeff and I offered to give him a ride home. It seemed reasonable. The guy seemed nice even if some aspects of his personality were (in retrospect) a little shady and weird. It was the kind of crowd where drugs were easy to come by, and it’s a fair chance that he was on something, or several somethings, by the time the night was over.

We met him after the show outside the Slowdown. He thanked us profusely for letting him tag along with us to Lincoln. We get to the car, my sister’s Honda Civic, and I start climbing into the backseat, shoving my purse and sweater and other things in front of me.

It was at this point that several items from my open purse spilled out into the backseat.

Zack insisted that he sit in the back, that he didn’t want to inconvenience me by making me sit in the back all crunched up (2 door cars are a joy like that), and so I let him into the back and got into the passenger front seat. That was how we rode home.

I did not grab my purse out of the backseat at this time.

We drive the 50ish minutes or so back into Lincoln, and we’re all very conversational and nice. Zach asks us questions that seem innocuous, like what kind of car we were driving in and what jobs Jeff and I had and other things of that nature. Things that only seem suspicious in hindsight.

We get to Lincoln and he asks us to drop him off at 14th and O street. He complains repeatedly that he really, really needs to go to the restroom as we’re driving into Lincoln, and as we pull up to the sidewalk and we let him out he’s definitely in a hurry, stopping to give high fives and handshakes but definitely in a hurry.

No worries, I figure. He just needs to pee. Look, he’s even walking funny he has to pee so bad.

We drive the mile or so back to the apartment and as we get out of the car I head for the backseat, starting to gather up my things.

It is at this point that I realize my wallet is missing.

Genuinely missing, not just misplaced or shoved under one of the seats or under a sweater. We tore that car apart, which didn’t take long as it was small and recently cleaned. And we realize there’s another reason this guy was walking funny. Probably a reason he asked so many questions about our lives. A reason he hightailed it out of there before we noticed anything was wrong.

I go inside, immediately call my bank to cancel my credit card, and begin taking inventory of all the things I had carried in that wallet, that long rectangular bright red ladybug wallet I loved so much. My driver’s license was in Jeff’s wallet since I’d needed it for the show and didn’t want to take in my whole purse since I knew I’d be dancing. My cash was in my pocket. Overall my net losses were my library card, my now-cancelled credit card, my insurance cards, my old student ID, my birth control pills, a couple of expired giftcards and some receipts.

He also took my day planner. Why he did that is completely beyond me. It doesn’t even look useful.

He got nothing important. Everything in that wallet is replaceable, even with a little hassle. He didn’t get anything like my social security card or my computer passwords. The planner had my address in it, but we live in a secured entry building two blocks from a police station. I have my driver’s license. I can replace my insurance cards. I have another pill pack I can use to take my medication. Inconvenient, but manageable.

It just sucks is all.

It sucks that we do this guy a favor, two normally not very trusting kids, and he thanks us by stealing something of no use to him. He tells us what kind of person he is. That he judged us by our well-maintained car and the answers we gave about our lives and our jobs. He determined that we were clearly doing well enough that he needed my things more than I did.

Or he was just high out of his mind. That’s also a possibility.

Jeff and I are doing well for ourselves. It’s easy to judge people by their covers, we all do it all the time. I work a damned good, well-paying job. We were driving a very nice, still very new looking car. We gave the impression of being college kids even though I’m not and Jeff’s only part time.

Impressions are dangerous. Judgments are dangerous. I don’t work any less hard for my money because I work in an office for a corporation that gives me benefits and paid time off. Jeff doesn’t work any less hard because he’s a part time student. We still get help from our parents, yes, but we’re young, and extremely lucky, and we’re grateful. Painfully grateful. We never acted like we were better than this guy. That was something he invented for himself.

So it hurts. It makes me rage that this is what kindness to strangers will net you in this world. It makes me want to track down this guy and punch him in his face. Or at least get Jeff to punch him in his face.

We were up until 2 or 3 sorting things out, and sleep was nearly impossible.

Once I got there though, I did okay. I woke up and felt better, not just from getting the rest.

My memories weren’t tarnished. The show was still fresh in my head and it was still as glorious as I had remembered.

It really was an amazing show. This is the third time I’ve seen The Hold Steady, and they just keep getting better and better. We muscled our way close to the front, and after six solid months of listening to their music at least daily I knew all the words to all the songs. I was that kid, screaming along with the songs and pounding my fist in the air.

I forgot everything in those moments. Music profoundly affects me, and there’s a reason I love it. Normally my brain is a hyperactive chittering mess, like a squirrel on speed suffering from ADD. I’m always dealing with at least five things on my mind: work, impending grad school, my comic, my novel, what to make for dinner, various songs I like. It’s busy up in here.

The music and the crowd washed it all away. I thought of nothing in those moments but being right there, right where I was, singing along and feeling exuberant joy at experiencing The Hold Steady the way they were made to be experienced.

Nothing can take it away. Not even some asshole who decides to rip off a couple kids who did him a solid.

Thanks for trying buddy.

So maybe I’ll be more reluctant to help strangers now. I usually am anyway. But it’s not all bad. My friend Jen saved a guy’s life last night by being a kind stranger, calling 9-1-1 when she noticed him passed out on the sidewalk. When I first met Jeff he was a stranger, in a friend-of-a-friend just met kind of way, and I DD-ed for him so he wouldn’t have to drive on his birthday.

I’m cynical. I’m jaded. This incident has lowered my opinion of humanity, made me feel foolish and caused me a lot of trouble.

But everyone’s different. We all have our reasons for the stupid shit we do, even if this guy’s reason made no sense to us.

As Jeff said, he’ll get his. Especially since we have every intention of filing a police report.

But I won’t let the best part of the evening be taken away. That concert was fucking amazing. So, nice try buddy, but your assholery is just a tiny blip on the radar in my life, and after time, I’ll forget you, and just remember the music.

Stay Positive.

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Videogames, the Liberal Agenda, Sexuality

24 Mar

So I wrote a new blog post.

Rather than attempt to transfer it all over here, I posted it up at my Gaming blog. Follow the link below to read it!

Videogames, the Liberal Agenda, Sexuality

The Spark of Insanity

16 Mar

I spent an hour at work today typing up heights and weights of various people on medical surveys.

That stereotype about Americans being overweight? As far as I can see, not a stereotype. Do you want to know how many people’s data I typed up that listed them as under five feet and over 200 pounds?

Answer: You don’t want to know. It will just depress you.

Related note: If you ever have to fill out a survey for a hospital, please write in block capitals as clearly as you can. Deciphering other people’s handwriting is the cause of more headaches in my life than I can count these days.

There Needs to be a Test or Something…

6 Mar

So tonight was the first night in at least a month that both my parents were in town at the same time and both available to meet me for dinner. Due to their work lives (my Mum’s a professor so she travels around recruiting for her department a lot, and my Dad does super interesting stuff with the Air Force that I know nothing about, so he travels too), this is a rare occurrence, but it was a special treat, so the two of them took Jeff and I out to the Parthenon, an awesome local Greek restaurant who have the best falafel I’ve had in this state and desserts that are to kill for.

Seriously. Their featured dessert tonight was white cake with nutella and raspberry. I almost died right there.

So we had an enjoyable start to the evening. Had a few drinks, ate some hummus, cracked jokes, my parents told stories of when they were younger and living in different places doing exciting things, like living in Italy (in my dad’s case) and Colorado (which is a really cool spot when you live in Nebraska, trust me). While we were close to finishing up our main courses and pondering dessert and another round of drinks, a couple came in and sat at a table a little East of us.

“Awwww,” My mother said in a soft whisper, her voice turning to mush. “They have the tiniest little baby!”

“Oh,” I responded, unenthused and returning to my pita bread. I’m not a fan of children. I consider the vast majority of them devilspawn sent down to earth with the sole intent of making my life more obnoxious. I gave the small child a quick glance – nothing special, probably less than half a year old, wearing a dark blue onesie with little bear ears on the hood – and continued eating.

Then something caught my eye.

The couple sat down, the woman holding the baby somewhat awkwardly while the man laid his coat across one half of their little square table. I thought this was a little strange – there were perfectly good chairs on the other half of the table, or even the back of his chair for him to put a coat, and it was stranger still when the woman, leaning forward, laid her little baby on top of this coat, face-down.

Just like that. I thought for a second she was going to start changing the little stinker’s diaper right there, but nope. She just lay him there. Left him there, face-down, and she and her husband proceeded to order wine and appetizers. Occasionally one of them would lift up the little bugger’s bear-eared hat to check that it was still breathing.

Okay. Maybe I’m just crazy here, but WHO does that? Who leaves a baby lying FACE DOWN on a TABLE in a RESTAURANT?

Can someone explain that to me? How that makes any sense? How that’s healthy for the baby, who even if it’s asleep would probably suffocate. I don’t like children of any sort, but that doesn’t mean I think it’s okay to leave one on a tabletop in a really nice restaurant while mommy and daddy romance each other over appetizers. I mean, was the child drugged? Is this normal?

There needs to be some kind of exam people have to pass in order to become parents. Seriously, you have to jump through five million hoops to foster or adopt a child, but if you have one biologically it’s just assumed you’ll be an adequate parent? No. People suck at raising their goddamn kids, letting them roam free in stores and restaurants, leaving them on tables while eating, letting them scream through choral concerts instead of taking them outside.

It’s ridiculous. If I ever become grand poo-bah of the world (which could happen some day, you never know), I will make it mandatory for parents to take extensive tests to be allowed to keep their children once the pregnancy comes to term, and to renew their licenses every couple of years. Because right now? Average American couple? You SUCK at PARENTING. FOREVER.

Now get your kid a motherfucking place to sit so it’s not lying right next to the fucking calamari. That’s not parenting! You wouldn’t even put your DOG on the table! Why would you do that to your CHILD?

That’s my rant du jour folks. Raise your damn kids.

I’m going to go play Pokemon until I calm myself slightly. Have a good evening.

Twitter WTF: Decoded

2 Mar

I’ve been on twitter for about a year and a half now on a daily basis, and one of the things that never fails to mystify me is the little cluster of Trending Topics on the sidebar. Hashtag fever is still an epidemic, and I find myself indulging in them myself on occasion, whether it’s to make fun of myself, denote something as a drunk tweet, or shamelessly fangirl at one of my favourite movies, TV shows or musicians.

The other purpose of hastags, it would seem, is to confuse the hell out of me every time I look over to the little Trending Topics sidebar. I find myself staring down the list of names, portmanteaued words and unintelligible nonsense, and click them only to find that most of the top hashtags are people asking ‘what the hell does #muttonchip have to do with anything?

So, after days and days of staring and pondering, I present to you Lora’s Trending Topics of the hour Decoded, as of 6:00pm CST on March 2nd:

Trending Topic #1: #Focusrally

This appears to be related to the Ford Focus, and it’s at the top of the list because it’s the Promoted Topic. It appears to be related to this and involves people driving across the country completing challenges, reality TV style. I assume the prize is they get to keep the car? I don’t know. The promoted TT’s seem to defeat the purpose of the concept to me, so I pretty much write them off as shameless adspace that keeps the glory of twitter alive.

TT #2: #sorryjustin

Guess what, another Justin Beiber TT. Because the whole ‘ZOMFUG Why didn’t Justin win a grammy whine whine my life is over’ fangirl twitter mess wasn’t enough, now there’s more drama? This twitter apology apparently comes from the fans due to the actions of a crazy fangirl who punched his girlfriend on his birthday? Or something? ‘Beliebers’ remind me a little bit of Twihards, and that’s not something I want to see more of in my life Twitter. Thanks.

Also, the Beibs is only turning 17? Dear Gog, America. You depress the ever living crap out of me.

TT #3: #tigerblood

This is apparently related to Charlie Sheen. And a fellow named Frank McCourt. I don’t know. All I care about with Charlie-boy is that finally they’ll stop making Two and a Half Men. Here’s a relevant link, for the confused or amused.

TT #4: #tipicasmentiras

Roadblock: I know no spanish, and that appears to be the language this originated in. I’m at a loss folks. Even google has given up on me in this case. I think it’s something to do with a facebook app, but the only way to find out was to give the app access to my info. This is harder than it seems folk.

TT #5: McLobster.

Okay, WHAT. Apparently McDonalds is really upping it’s game in the class factor, because the McLobster sandwich is real.
I kind of want to go punch the guy who came up with this in the gut. The words ‘Fast Food Lobster’ should ALWAYS be an oxymoron.

TT #6: Sleepwalker

This appears to be a reference to at least one song. So far Twitter thinks it’s related to an Adam Lambert tune. I’ve never heard it, and I can’t say I care enough about Adam Lambert to track it down, but that’s what that is I think. I guess. Twitter is a thrilling place today it seems.

TT #7: Fleur Agema

Fleur Agema is apparently a Dutch Politician, once again limiting my ability to understand why the hell she’s trending. But here‘s her wiki page, and I think a couple of the tweets referenced racism, so whatever it is, I’m sure it’s thrilling.

TT #8: McSushi.

Okay. No. Just. NO. But it’s real.
That sound? It’s the sound of my hope for humanity dying. Violently.

TT #9: Limburgers

This? I have no clue, but I’m guessing it’s not to do with the slightly pungent cheese. That would be just too boring for the world of gossiphounds and nutjobs that frequent the twitterverse. Or it might be something to do with the Dutch elections. I guess the Loop is off in the distance and I’m over here watching dumb TV.

That or it’s another Charlie Sheen thing.

TT #10: Selic

… yeah, not sure. I think though, judging from all the Portuguese, it’s something to do with this.

So that’s today’s Twitter roundup. Justin Beiber has crazy fans, McDonalds is still gross, and there’s a lot going on with the Dutch. That’s Tuesday in a nutshell on the Twitterverse.

Apparently Doc Brown Perfected his Time Machine

16 Feb

And so gents and ladies, I give you my WTF of the week moment, courtesy of South Dakota Legislature and their rigmarole of anti-abortion folk:

Bill expands the legal definition of justifiable homicide in the state. Critics said the measure legalizes the killing of abortion providers by saying a homicide is permissible if committed by a person “while resisting an attempt to harm” an unborn fetus.”

As my first thought went: “what is this I don’t even.”

Seriously. I DO NOT EVEN. You know what that can cover, according to some definitions? A woman WANTING an abortion. Even a miscarriage.

The. Hell. Fucking. Damn.

My dear father, knowledgeable gent that he is, also acknowledged the ridiculosity of this particular bill, like so many other bills South Dakota has been churning out in the last few years. His theory, and I’m inclined to agree with him, is that the real goal here is not to actually pass this crazy law, but to get it to appeals. Their ultimate goal? Pushing it far enough that it hits the supreme court and Roe vs. Wade ends up coming up, and being overturned.

Fan-tastic.

Fan-fuckin’-tastic.

As I said to my friend Sam, ‘let’s start out own country and get away from this madness.’

When did we start moving backwards? Come the hell ON people!

Daily Post Writers Block: Experience is the Best Teacher

7 Feb

Today’s Daily Post prompt is to describe the worst teacher you’ve ever had. Since I’m feeling uncreative, as all of my creative energy has been swallowed by building my doom fortress in Minecraft, I’ll make use of this prompt and give you a brief overview of some of the worst teachers I’ve experienced. No names mentioned, since this is the internet, but I should be able to give you an overview of some of these profs (since they were basically all in college) in amusing soundbites:

Prof #1: American History after 1877 (Fall 2007, Sophomore Year)
“Hey folks, I know you’re mostly freshmen and sophomores but I’m going to give you assignments even grad students have trouble with. Got a bad grade? Obviously you just weren’t working hard enough at it. Oh, and that syllabus I gave you? You should probably burn that, because I’m going to pretty much ignore it. To top it all, I’m going to spend way more time on the subject of my Doctoral Thesis than any of you care about, so we won’t get to anything remotely interesting about American History. Have a good semester!”

Prof #2: Intro to Medieval Literature (Fall 2008, Junior Year)
“This is what I’m going to teach you. What I’m teaching you is everything you can read in the notes in the back of the book, but I’m going to repeat it anyway. Attempts at humor and lightheartedness will not be tolerated. Your reading assignments will be godawful prose translations of Arthurian legends that read like bad soap operas. If you try to bring up an original thought, I will squash it. If you want to write an inventive final paper, I will squash it. If you start having fun, you will be squashed. Did I mention my voice is like a cheesegrater in your ears?”

Prof #3: Oceanography (Fall 2008, Junior Year)
“OMG guys! An Icthyosaurus! And weather! The ocean is really neat! The rest of this class will be me reading awkwardly from the slides and putting you to sleep! I was obviously once in a sorority and drank so much I can’t stop talking with enthusiasm! Yay!”

Prof #4: Fascism in Europe (Fall 2009, Senior Year)
“The tone of my voice and my poor grasp of the English language is going to take one of the most interesting aspects of European history and make it so boring you’ll want to kill yourself. Also I’m going to play favourites on your paper assignments, so if you try to write something remotely interesting, I’ll give you a low grade if I don’t agree with it.”

Prof #5: Fiction Writing (Fall 2010, Final Semester)
“Good writing cannot come from genre fiction. You should strive to read and write classic literature and never make any money off of your writing, doomed to teach others or seek other professions. Some of you aren’t very talented, but it’s cute that you’re trying. I’m going to encourage you all to be nice, but make extremely dickish comments whenever I can. This class will become your own personal hell and make you question ever trying to become a published writer ever. And if you have any success? Forget it. Your book can’t be quality literature if it’s successful. I’m a hipster! Woo!”

Remember how sometimes I don’t miss college? This is one of those times. For sure.

 

 

 

 

And Now, Your Daily Dose of WTF

2 Feb

Things have been nuts lately. Locally, nationally, internationally, you name it, things are going off the rails here and there. I have for you a few examples that make me shake my head at the world and think to myself ‘what the WHAT?’

Georgia Republican Says nobody should NEED a driver’s license

According to this website, Georgia State legislator Bobby Franklin thinks that requiring licenses for driving cars is imposing restrictions on a citizen’s right to travel. Therefore, they shouldn’t be required. I’m inclined to agree with the posters on this message board, and wonder if Franklin has the same thing to say about, say, licenses to practice medicine or fly airplanes. Franklin’s nutty ideas also apparently extend to abolishing mandatory vaccinations, using gold and silver as tender in payments of debt to and from the state, and the restoration of religious and family values to America. Watch out guys, Big Brother is watching us. Drive our cars.

Bill seeks to ban ‘Power Hour’

This article is a little closer to home for me (and by that, I mean the first source comes direct from my Alma Mater. There’s another article here.). A new bill proposed by Russ Karpisek aims to prevent 21-year-olds celebrating their birthdays to engage in ‘power hour’, that is, the engaging in drinking at midnight on their 21st birthday. The bill, which would prevent 21-year-olds from buying alcohol until 6AM on their birthdays, is not being received well by Nebraska students. Or by me. Because I think it’s dumb. Pure and simple. Yes, a kid doing 21 shots at midnight on their birthday is dangerous, but a new law isn’t going to change that. If they don’t do it at a bar on their birthday at midnight, they’ll do it the next night, or at home. And no, Mister Karpisek, spreading that out over the course of the night will not lower the risks. 21 shots is still 21 shots, whether you do them over five hours or one. Sure, one’ll kill you faster, but that just shows that what 21-year-olds need is EDUCATION, not more legal restrictions that are basically pointless. Teach people not to drink in excess and carry their own responsibility for their drinking and you won’t need to make dumb laws that mean basically nothing.

Sex Ring a Hoax, Planned Parenthood Messed With By Pro-Life Group

So Live Action’s a little nutty. I say this as a woman firmly pro-choice (not necessarily pro-abortion, but definitely supporting a woman’s right to choose), but even for a lifer group these guys are stooping to interesting levels of low for their cause. This video went up recently, Live Action’s documentation of Planned Parenthood supposedly covering up an underage sex ring. The video, which is heavily edited, is now reported to be documenting a hoax: no sex ring existed, and the people involved were trying to catch Planned Parenthood doing nothing about young girls being used in sex-trafficking rings. Planned Parenthood, instantly suspicious when a man showed up to eight different PP locations in five states within five days, called the FBI, suspecting a hoax trying to catch employees saying damning things on tape. They were right. This isn’t the first time Lifer groups have tried to catch PP and other clinics using hoax situations, and, in the words of Randal Milholland via his twitter on February 1st, creator of Something Positive, ‘if you have to stoop to this for your cause, you deserve to fail’.¬†Classy, Live Action. Classy.

There you go. A few WTF’s for you. Feel free to send some more my way via the comments or my twitter.

Dear MTV,

16 Jan

A letter to MTV, media conglomerate and television programming station.

To whom it may concern at MTV:

I am a 23-year-old female living in 21st century America, and though I am currently too poor to have a cable service provider, I have been aware of your programming for quite some time.

I’ve given you chances MTV. I remember the days of yore when you, and your counterpart VH1, actually lived up to your purpose.

See that ‘M’ in your name, MTV? The one that’s the first letter of your acronym? It stands for MUSIC. You know, music? That thing people often make videos for? Those videos that you used to show on your channel, before The Real World?

MTV, you disappoint me often. It’s sad but true. I’ve all but given up on your ability to provide me with quality entertainment, especially after Jersey Shore.

And then I found out about Skins.

I watched the UK version of Skins this summer on Netflix. As far as teenage comedy dramas went, I found it to be extremely original, witty and intelligent, especially for a show about teenagers who like to get high and blow off school.

Then I found out you were taking this show and creating an ‘American’ version.

I knew you were lacking in originality MTV, but upon some research I discovered that was just the tip of the iceberg.

See, not only are you remaking Skins using the exact same plot, but you’re using virtually identical character names and advertising campaigns:

Promo for Skins, UK version

Promo for Skins, US version.

But that’s not my biggest beef with you, MTV, and it’s a beef that goes above and beyond unoriginality.

It’s the fact that you took this character from the original Skins:

Maxxie, known for being openly gay and an incredible dancer

And turned him into this:

Tea, hard-partying out and proud lesbian.

Now, I don’t really understand what you’re trying to do here MTV. You’ve taken an openly gay male character and changed him into an openly gay female character.

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing I guess. I mean, at least you aren’t completely removing these themes of homosexuality in your show, right? You’re demonstrating a roughly accurate depiction of American youth by including a lesbian character, right?

So why make a gay guy into a gay chick? That homosexual population quotient is already perfectly represented by Skin’s UK’s character of Maxxie. You haven’t been afraid to keep other characters virtually identical down to name and appearance :

Tony from Skins UK vs. Tony from Skins US. See the resemblance?

So what’s the deal MTV? Are you telling us that Lesbians are more acceptable in American society? Are you adhering to a comfortable double-standard?

And should I really be surprised.

The sad fact of the matter is that to some extent, this aspect of culture in America is true. While the homosexual population is out and proud on both ends of the gender spectrum, there’s a certain higher amount of acceptance for Lesbian girls over gay men.

Am I pulling facts out of my ass here? Sure. But go ask a straight dude how he feels about two girls making out. Then ask him how he feels about two guys making out. It’s that mentality that’s driving your adjustment here MTV, and it’s further evidence that even though America is slowly squeaking forward in the gay rights movement, we still have a long way to go.

I’m not saying Lesbians have an easier time of it, or that their relationships are accepted in society overall. I’m saying that you’re promoting this idea that being a gay male is so unacceptable in American culture that you had the need to replace him with a lesbian female in mainstream television.

Can you explain this to me MTV? Because none of this makes any sense to me, and it thoroughly depresses me.

Congratulations on assisting in the decline of American creativity MTV. I’ll probably watch the new Skins and complain about it, because that’s the way of the internet (I mean, come on, I’m ranting about this on my blog. How’s that for mature reaction?). Thanks for nothing.

With love and small amounts of bile,

Lora.

 

Things I’ve Learned Working in Foodservice

9 Jan

1. The customer may always be right, but that doesn’t mean the customer isn’t dumb as a box of rocks.

2. The smell of fryer grease gets into everything. Clothes, hair, shoes, even my glasses. Somehow. It takes multiple long showers to get it out, and even if the smell comes out of clothes, the stains stay on your pants until the end of time.

3. Whenever the menu stresses that something is ‘homemade’, it is going to be a bitch and a half to make. Like ranch dressing. Doesn’t sound difficult, but when you make it by the gallon and the slightest miscalculation of balance means you’ll pour the stuff all over the sink, your clothes, even in your hair, it becomes a bitch. And then some.

4. There is a special level of hell reserved for people who come in five minutes before closing and order something complicated. Like multiple bacon double cheeseburgers. Or a pizza, which takes 20 minutes if you’re quick about it.

5. The cooks get paid more than the waitresses because they don’t get tips. The waitresses make more money, but have to deal with people more. A fair trade-off?

6. Chili must be at least as hot as Mt. Vesuvius if it’s going to satisfy the customer.

7. Bowlers have no originality. Neither do sorority girls. If one bowler orders a large fries, ten other bowlers will order the exact same thing. This principle is also true of girls in sororities, but it’s usually ice cream. They’re also more likely to cry if you run out of something, though that depends on the bowler.

8. If you do dishes enough, your fingers will become permanently pruny.

9. Cleaning out the ketchup pumps once is enough to put you off ketchup for a really long time. Scrubbing ketchup off of plates will push that into forever.

10. People are at their most anal retentive and dickish when it comes to their food. I give myself five points every time I don’t snap and tell someone ‘if you don’t like how it is, go the fuck home and cook it yourself you bum.’

11. Meth heads play a lot of poker. This is so they can pay their phone bills since they can’t get real jobs. They also eat a lot of cheeseburgers.

12. The later in the evening it gets, the more people order extremely greasy food. Especially wings.

13. The pain starts in your back after about two hours. it slowly moves down your legs and into your feet after another two. By hour six you’ve become completely numb to it and only feel it again when you finally sit down in your car while driving home.

14. The bartenders make more money than you too, but they definitely deserve it. Anyone who has to deal with that many drunks does for sure.

15. Children are satan. No, children make satan look like a fluffy bunny in fairy land. Children are almost as bad as drunkards, they’re just louder and more whiny most of the time.

16. Don’t breathe in if you’re heating up hot sauce. you’ll lose nose hair.

17. Ditto above for grilled jalapenos.

18. No matter how well a place is managed, they will run out of everything when you need it the most. And you’ll have to deal with crying sorority girls again.