Just the other day, I was heading into the grocery store to stock up on soda and ice cream when I was sidelined by a guy with a toothy smile asking me to sign some sort of petition. I made the mistake of saying, “Oh, I’m not registered to vote in this city yet” - yeah yeah, not the best response. As soon as the careless words tumbled from my mouth it was like he saw me in a new light. Whereas before I was just another face he was trained to throw the usual spiel at, now I had become a confirmation of his necessity… the very reason he was standing in the shade sweating profusely. It was citizens like me who drove him to get up, adorn his ill-fitting suit, and solicit participation in the Democratic process. Yes! Not only could he get me involved “in the system”, but he could grant me the right to complain over the current state of affairs. And if there’s one thing I value in the world (aside from an impressive Anime collection), it’s the right to complain.
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My favorite part of any wedding is the reception. I love free flowing alcohol, delicious food, and good company. Actually, even if the company isn’t all that good the other 2 things more than make up for it. Shitty company seems less shitty after a second helping of tri-tip and 7 beers.
That’s where I was this past weekend, by the way: At a wedding. We drove up to Sacramento to see one of Jan’s brothers get hitched (”we” being me, Jan, and his parents). The drive was long (8 hours) and definitely not something I’m in a hurry to do again. I’ll spare you the details of how my legs got so cramped I contemplated sawing them off or how I suffered a horrendous attack of gas. That shit was brutal. I wound up holding in farts until we passed groupings of cows out to pasture. Once we were close enough, I would silently ease out a few torpedoes and hope the other 3 people in the car blamed the smell on “manure”. I could have gotten away with doing this the rest of the trip if I hadn’t made the mistake of letting one go as we drove past some orange trees. Apparently oranges don’t smell like dookie.
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I don’t how many of you know this, but I used to work for the TSA. I was stationed at Los Angeles International Airport and that is where I remained the entire 2 years I was employed by the agency.
I left this job last September and because of actions on both our parts (I take responsibility for my shit), it WAS NOT on good terms. The road has been rough since, but totally worth it.
TSA is easily the worst job I ever had. There are several things wrong with the agency itself along with upper management, lower-level management, and the “regular Joes” who actually do the dirty work. The problems, in my opinion, start at the top and get worse the lower you go.
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This coming May I will have been married a year. When my anniversary hits you should expect a horribly mushy scribbling in which I recount our wedding day and post pictures of the wondrous event. Now I don’t know how true this is, but I’m quite certain the Angels rejoiced on that marvelous day.
No really, they did.
Now I know some of you are wondering why would I attempt to give advice on something I haven’t mastered myself. And that is a valid concern. What do I, a mere Padawan, know about relationships? How could I have possibly learned anything worth passing on in such a short amount of time? Well, you would be surprised. In this post I plan on sharing tips and pointers previously unresearched and never before documented that will hopefully help you maintain a mind-blowing level of happiness in your relationship.
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Did they think I wouldn’t notice?
I mean really, I do watch TV after all.
Time Warner has new commercials. And their new catch-phrase? “We think like you think.”
Ummm… no.
I think when a person pays for a service, the shit should work. Plain and simple. Time Warner, on the other hand, thinks the customer should be satisfied with whatever scraps of service are tossed their way.
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