Monday, June 30, 2008

The Bathroom Out

Have you ever been to a party and been caught in a conversation you didn't want to be in? And you can see in the other guest's eyes they don't want to be in the conversation either, however, the other guest is in the middle of some long winded self-important diatribe. You are just politely waiting for them to finish their story or philosphical point, or lame ass joke so that you can execuse yourself to go to the bathroom. But then, before you can get a word in the other guest says, "Yeah, I've got to go the bathroom." Wow! Hold-up. I was going to go the bathroom. I knew this conversation was a tortutious hell, but you were talking. I was being polite letting you finish. For my politeness I get to beg out of the conversation it's my reward for proper awkward conversation etiquette. You've usurped my right to pretend to have to go to the bathroom. If I didn't think I was going get to leave on my terms I would have continued to nod my head in agreement as if I cared about how you forsee your future alcoholism.

And another thing people. If you do leave a conversation with the Bathroom Execuse actually go to the bathroom.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Street Cleaning and Alternate Side Parking Rules are UnAmerican

Dear Mayor Bloomberg,

I'd like to point out that most of the parking rules you have in this city are allowing the terrorists to win. How do you expect government surveillance vehicles to be able to uninterruptedly and non-conspicuously keep tabs on terrorist cells in this city if the government vehicles that contain government agents who are keeping America free and safe by watching all of us all of the time have to keep moving their vehicle to avoid parking tickets and towing. Sure, maybe you can give them immunity from NYC parking laws, but then their vehicles will stick out like a sore thumb. Terrorists will get wise, "Hey that vehicle has sat there for three weeks, never ticketed never towed. I smell something fishy." Next thing you know we're all no longer free and safe.

Blommy baby, get with it. Either you’re against parking rules or your with the terrorists.


A concerned freedom-loving citizen.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

My Will Has Been Bought and Sold -- It's Anything But Free

Do any other adults out there still feel like they have to do what their parents tell them to do? I'm closing in on 31 and if my mother tells me to do something I feel like have to do it. And if I don't want to do it I have to figure out a way around not doing it. I can't just say, "No this is my life and I'll do what I want. What are you going to do to me? Spank me? Send me to my room? Ground me?" Of course not and yet despite there rationally being no repercussions I still do things that she wants me to do even when they're not in my best self-interest to do them. I think it's because for the first 18 years of life I was conditioned to do what my parents told me to do and now I can't not even if I don't want to. 18 years is alot of years. It takes the military less than a year of basic training to get people to take orders and walk into a line of fire. How do I stand a chance to say, "No, I don't want to sit in 2.5 hours of traffic to go to a distant relatives BBQ in North Jersey. Even though he is very very nice." I can't I just like a brain washed soldier just go.

And in other parental conditioning--

I purchased a burrito at a resturaunt the other day. I did not finish it. I then asked the waiter to wrap up the left overs. As I asked him to wrap it up I found myself trying to explain why I couldn't finish my meal. As if the waiter could give a shit. But I felt this guilt. Why? Because for years my parents would force me to finish my dinner. We'd sit at the kitchen table for hours night after night in a game of wills. I won a lot of those battles but, it seems that they won the war.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Lessons from a Family BBQ

Playing wiffle ball with 9 year olds is no fun. These kids aren't any good at it. And their giggling and laughing the joy on their faces as the uncordinately swing at the wiffle ball is really... just.. sad. You just want to shake them and say "Come on kid! Get some hand eye coordination so we can have a game. Jesus. You're ruining the bar-b-q."

Friday, June 20, 2008

Fuel Prices Being What They Are

You're thinking to yourselves, "Inflation is a bitch. AND!!! I can't believe I booked a trip overseas for the end of this summer when the dollar is so weak. The economy is taking a nose dive, I can't find steady work. How the hell am I going to pay for my UK vacation in this economic climate?"

I'm not going to lie to you. You're pretty much fucked. But I have two possible long shots for you to come up with the money for your ill-advised trip.

Option 1: Remember that dude you dated years ago? Like nearly 10 years ago? Remember how you thought maybe he was privie to a trust fund? Yeah. Good. Well, here's what you have to do. You have to go find him (and you're a stalker so it shouldn't be too difficult), break-up his marriage and get him to love you enough to send you abroad. He has the funds, and let's face it his wife doesn't really love him. She married him because her clock was ticking and he could support a child. Hell, Jesse said it all 10 years ago after you broke up and suspected he was dating someone else, "Who would date him? Uhhh. I mean... besides you."

Option 2: That crazy, baron, never-been-married sibling of your mom. That sibling unfortunately sees alot of you in him/her and that's why you're in the will. Hopefully you're still in the will and you didn't get written out recently due to your "charisma" aka argumentive, combative conversational style. Maybe, just maybe if you pray hard enough not only will you still be in the will, perhaps The Will will go into probate before your jet departs. Take that God awful diet your mom's elder sibbling ingests on a daily basis and push it over the edge into cardiac arrest by sending a lovely, extra-fat-added cheesecake.

Option 3: I guess you're going into debt.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

It's Not That I Don't Want to Share, But You Make it so Hard

The following is a true, very true, dialogue between myself and my 22-year old roommate.

Roommate: Can I borrow your car?
ME: Where are you going?
Roommate: Upstate New York.
ME: Where Upstate?
Roommate: I don't know. Somewhere up there.
ME: You don't know how far outside the city?
Roommate: Nah.
ME: Uh well, do you drive stick?
Roommate: Of course. I learned once. I had trouble with reverse, but I can do it now. Anyway we'll be going forward so I won't need reverse.
ME: Uh. When do you need the car?
Roommate: July 4th.
ME: Oh sorry I have to go to bbq in Connecticut on the 5th.
Roommate: I'll have it back by then.
ME: Uhh.
Roommate: Your car fits 7 right?
ME: No. It seats four, maybe five. if you all are short and skinny.
Roommate: Some people will sit on laps. Oh. And if you have a permit all you need is a liscenced driver right.
ME: The liscenced driver has to have had their liscence for three years. Wait! You don't have a liscence?
Roommate: No.
ME: You know, I'm going to say that you can't borrow my car, which isn't really mine anyway. No. No you can't. If you did and anything happened I'd tell the cops you stole my car. Yeah, so. No. Maybe you all should just rent a car.
Roommate: How much do you think that's going to be?
ME: I don't really know. I'm going to say cheaper than fixing mine after you total it driving in reverse in some yet to be determined town somewhere in the State of New York.
Rooommate: Hmmm. Really? Come on.
ME: I got to go to bed.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Coal and Your Man

Hey this piece isn't ready to be read, but you know I'm a brave and lazy.

Here is what I know about why we have the sexual mores we have today. Namely, that women who sleep around are slutty whores who should be stoned to death, while women who marry get a big party and our showered with gifts.

These long held traditions of stoning the sluts and showering the married can be traced back to ancient times—back to the Fertile Crescent and Mesopotamia. They ancient Mesopotamians didn’t want women having sex so that the ruling class could control common men. Before the birth of western civilization men and women walked around in fur hides smashing things with clubs. Then one-day things changed and coal needed to be mined. Obviously no one wanted to mine coal. What horrible past time. Coalmines are cold, damp, dark (dark another word for very scary), and full of emphysema causing air. Why would you mine coal when you could just walk around in the sunshine with a club and speak and hit stuff? So the men were like, “You know what Western Civ dudes, we’re not mining coal. It’s stupid.” But the dudes who desperately wanted coal mined were a determined bunch. They yelled and screamed and then threw a tantrum. The other regular dudes were like, “Forget you guys and you mines will go live in the woods over on the other side of the hill and eat leafy vegetables, berries and some venison. See you later suckers.” The coal mine owners would not be thwarted, “Oh yeah we’ll take our clubs and spears and hit you in the face with them.”
“Helloooo. We have clubs and spears too.”
“Ahhh foiled again.”

But the coal mine owners weren’t going to take this supine. There were coal in ‘dem mines and by god those other dudes were going to get the coal out of that mine. They came up with a plan. The coal miners decided they’d put the spears and clubs in the faces of the women. The women were smaller and though some of them were scrappy they fought too much amongst themselves to realize they could kick the ass of a handful of spear and club bandiers. The women conceded and said, “Fine, we’ll mine your coal.”
“No. You won’t be mining our coal. You ladies are too small you can’t reach the coal at the top of the mine walls. Instead you are forbidden to have sex with any man who isn’t mining coal.”
“Wow, you coal mine owners, suck.”
“Not only that you can only sleep with one coal miner in your life time. If you don’t you’ll be banished to the sea.”
“The sea? Really?”
“For now. Yes, later on we’ll just socialize and/or ostracize you.”
“This new system has just begun and we already miss the old days of a short life expectancy and forest dwelling.”

And so the coal mine owners told the other men if they ever wanted to fornicate again they’d have to mine coal. Some men rebelled and wound up taking up with sheep and what not, but most guys couldn’t handle the fierce kicks to the gut, knees and inner thighs.
In the end there was lots of coal, even more drinking and long miserable lives.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

The Problem with the Two Party System

Yesterday, as my brain was melting, I began to think about the upcoming presidential election. I wondered who would we vote for after the Clintons assasinate Obama and old man McCain dies of a heart attack or another of the many ailments he has?

It's too bad we don't have any actual parties that can pinch hit from the bench in this country.

Monday, June 09, 2008

We should not be shocked that Hilary Clinton did not win her party's nomination. She is a woman and it is very difficult for people (both male and female) to elect a woman to a position of power. Why? Simply because in this country women are the primary care-givers to children. Meaning, we grow up being nagged, disciplined, harassed, and forced to eat vegetables by women. Therefore, we have a negative connotation to women. If we have the option to between a man or a woman to elect most of us who were raised primarly by a woman are going to vote for a man. When we hear a man speak we don't automatically thing asparagus. It is asparagus that is keeping women out of positions of power.

I know that in some households the father is the disciplinarian, but that usually means he's the spanker or belt whipper of the children. But these kids who eventually grow-up to be voters will also vote male because if it wasn't for their mothers informing their fathers' of their bad behavior no one would have gotten spanked. If mom could have just kept her mouth closed regarding your abstract crayola wall mural 33 years ago no blood would have been shed.

"But, Rachael, the Brits elect women. And they're not so terribly different than us." Yes, it's true that the Brits speak English like we do and they pay their women less money than men on average, but they also don't raise their children. People in England send their kids away to boarding school at a very young age. So all they know of both mummy and daddy is that they've shoved their parental duties on to educations institutions. And that is why you never see a school master elected to Prime Minister over their.

So inconclusion. Women will never be elected president until men start doing most of the raising of this nation's children. I hope for a world where men and women equally share the parental duties and then no one is elected.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Just a Few Thoughts

**Turns out Hilary Clinton was the New England Patriots of the Democratic Party Presidential primary contest. She was favored by two touchdowns and winds up losing by a field goal. Though, we must admit Obama is a much better public speaker than Eli Manning.

**There is one major STD that they never discuss in high school health class--the common cold. There is no prophylactic for that one.

**My boyfriend Jack and I have decided that I should consider going on hormonal birthcontrol. Our previous method of birthcontrol, abortion, has just become too expensive. Did you know they make "the pill" in chewable form? It's great this way all those grade schoolers having sex these days have real birthcontrol options. Unfortunately, the pills aren't in the shape of any fun cartoon characters.

**My friend Julien Marques was asked how much he loved America. He answered, "Enough to sleep with America. I don't know if I'd call the next day."

Tuesday, June 03, 2008


I don't know how versed you all are in American stand-up comedy. In case you are not versed at all let me fill you in. There will be times when a white stand-up comedian will make a racial or racist joke regarding black people. Sometimes the audience doesn't laugh or doesn't laugh right away. The comedian will than usually say something like, "You're waiting to see if the two black guys in the audience laugh so you know it's OK to laugh." I have to admit sometimes the white people are waiting for the black people to laugh first, but also sometimes the joke isn't funny.

Now here's the interesting part (to me anyway.) Last night prior to my set a comedian got on stage and made some joke that began with "When women find out I'm engaged they all ask the same question, 'How did you propose?'" Note that he contorted his voice to be dreamy and yet idiotic to portray the women's question. I found it interesting that no one in the audience looked at us two token females to see if we were laughing (which we weren't) to see if it was OK for them to laugh. How is it that we are scared of showing ourselves to be racists but not masogynists? Is it because black people won't sleep with a racist but women will sleep with anyone?

I didn't like the joke because I as a women didn't care how this dude proposed to his girlfriend. All I could think about when he said he was engaged was, "Who the fuck agreed to marry him? Really? He's going to get married and I'm alone? You've got to be kidding me."

Tomorrow tune back in when I explain why a woman can't be president.

Monday, June 02, 2008

Just Another Conversation

Here is a dialogue between two people who make-up a romantic couple.

Girlfriend: You burned up your wife and kids for? Sheesh. That's a little much.

Boyfriend: Well, you said you needed to know that I cared about you. Not just me saying so.

Girlfriend: Yeah...Well... I meant like answer my emails in a timely fashion and be excited to see me.

Boyfriend: Now you tell me. (exasperated.) I was just trying to do something nice.

Girlfriend: (Yielding) Alright. Thank you. It was very thoughtful. I wasn't really ready for this kind of committment, but I guess here we are.

Boyfriend: Are you kidding me? Jesus Christ! You know I actually kind of liked my family. This wasn't some cavelier jesture.

Girlfriend: No, it's fine. I said thank you. But can I just suggest that if during the coarse of our relationship you wind up meeting someone you like better than me, and she wants some proof of your affection, maybe you could just break-up with me or get her some flowers.

Boyfriend: Flowers? Really? That's a little cliche and any schlub could by flowers.

Girlfriend: Get creative carve some flowers out of chocolate.

Boyfriend: Great. So what you're saying is you would have prefered chocolate flowers. I just can't do anything right.

Girlfriend: You're so over dramatic. I didn't say that. I'm just asking you a favor for the future.

Boyfriend. OK. Fine. (Pause) So we're going steady now?

Girlfriend: Of course. A man burns his family for you you go steady with him. What am I not polite?