Wednesday, August 24, 2011

More Shit That Makes Me Mad

There is a tired old cliche that has been going around for years that states don't sweat the small stuff. In my experience, it's ALL small stuff. It's the culmination of minor irritants and daily bullshit that one has to deal with that adds up to a big ball of shit that is greater than the sum of its parts.

Some people would argue that things such as politics, the world economy and foreign dictators are more worthy subjects of discussion. That may be so, but I find it difficult to give a damn about stuff that I can't change or have any effect on whatsoever. The stinky hippie or loud-mouth retard in my immediate vicinity however, I can do do something about in no uncertain terms. Here's a few random thoughts that are  a follow up to one of my earlier posts entitled " Shit That Makes Me Mad".

1. Damned Wind

In my opinion, few things will make you look as inept, or possibly demented as attempting to read a newspaper on a windy day. Try reading a broadsheet paper and the  futility will be increased twofold. I'm not sure why I repeatedly do this. Einstein once said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

As I sit on the patio of a coffee shop, passers-by must be amused at my mounting anger. Flailing about with the recalcitrant paper flapping in the wind accompanied by vehement exclamations of " Jee-zus Christ!" might be comical, but dang, nothin' will ruin your cool like a public display of this  type.

I usually end up with a strong desire to punch the paper or the wind, or both. I just usually give up in disgust as the unread newspaper ends up in a big crumpled ball.

2. You Know What You Should Do?

Yes. Yes I do. Any phrase that begins with that rhetorical question, I can almost guarantee that I don't want to hear. The reason I don't wanna hear it is because whatever lame advice may follow it just serves to infuriate me even more. I also resent the fact that it seems to imply that I some sort of low IQ cretin who just can't seem to figure out the most basic of day to day tasks.

Sometimes it might be slightly more innocuous, such as times where you may find yourself out of work and well-meaning friends offer advice. It is however, just as irritating. It is hardly an earth shattering revelation to find out that the godamned Home Depot is hiring.

My hot rod building buddies will certainly relate to my next point. People who build custom stuff seemingly out of thin air already know what they should do. They have done it and there it sits in all its glory for the world to see. The offending comments always, without fail, are offered by freaks who couldn't build a sandwich, much less an entire car.

In my case, I build custom bicycles, and this seems to attract way more asocial weirdos. These demented bike enthusiasts seem to follow me wherever I go and are always enthusiastic about telling how I should have designed the frame completely differently or painted it a whole different color. Like most freaks, stoned-out hippies and fucked up crackheads, they are too caught up in their incoherent tirades to see how offensive it is and how angry I am getting. A more direct approach like telling them to build their own damned bike and then get back to me just falls on deaf ears. I'll move on to the next subject cuz I'm getting bent out of shape just thinking about this one.

3.Why Is Your Hair Like That?

No, I didn't get caught in a wind storm, it's supposed to be like that. It's all about Rockabilly and it's called a pomp. Like I have stated many times, I wish squares would quit bothering me and look it up on Wikipedia. I recently had a precocious five year old ask me the very same thing. I told her because I play Rock n Roll and the kid asked me to prove it. I got the guitar and played her a tune. She also said that I smelled funny, but I didn't feel like explaining about the beer in my hand nor about the ones that I had before.Cute kid, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I have witnessed a smart-ass in the making.

4.Tell Me More About Your Cat.

People actually do that, sometimes in excruciating detail. I have nothing against cats per se. I am presently babysitting Zorro the Rockabilly cat. He's all greasy on top cuz he spends a lot of time under cars and when the neighbor's cat wandered into the house, Zorro the Rockabilly cat sprung into action and the other cat fucked right off. Hey, wait a minute, that sounds like a lot of my friends. I digress, seriously, nobody wants to hear a half hour account of what a cat did today. Unless of course you scared the living shit out of a cat and made it jump 4 feet straight up, then I wanna hear about it.

5.The Color Pink.

I wonder what industrial accident ended up mixing red and white and creating that nauseating color called pink. Even the word is unpleasant to hear and I don't even want to utter it out loud. Yeah sure, Elvis wore some pink stuff in the fifties, but that doesn't make me like it any more. There is something about the color temperature of pink in the electromagnetic spectrum that has retina searing results. I saw one those Mary Kay pink Cadillacs rolling down the street and it was possibly the ugliest object in the history of  civilization. The body shop that agreed to paint a once decent car this bilious shade should be painted pink itself and all its employees forced to wear pink.

I am not necessarily implying that it has effeminate connotations ( which it sorta does) I just think that this color should not exist. Some metrosexuals have taken to wearing pink clothing recently. I not sure what type of fashion statement they are trying to make, but man, that is just wrong (turn down that damned collar while you're at it).

I am no expert on parenting by any means, but some parents seem to enjoy saturating their girls with pink. Pink clothes, pink bedroom, pink fucking everything! There will be some very expensive therapy required about 15 years down the pike ( this is precisely why they don't paint rooms pink at lunatic asylums).


How a quivering slab of pasty white bio-matter can trigger hunger in some people is unfathomable. It tastes even worse than it looks. For some it seems to be an assertion of some sort of moral superiority. They are somehow saving the planet ( and think are better than you in the process) by consuming this dietary equivalent of the spawn of satan. Even flies and cockroaches won't go near the stuff ( although in all fairness, the same applies to Big Macs).

Like sculpting clay, this slimy shit can be molded into all sorts of ersatz food formations. The hippies that came up with "tofurkey" must have smoked copious quntities of powerful pot or maybe consumed some hallucinogenics to come up with that one.

Someone once tried to slip me a tofu hot dog at a BBQ once. They laughed as I chewed this rubbery substance and found it impossible to swallow. Silly hippies, everybody knows that hot dogs are supposed to made of lips and assholes.


There are some people that whistle in public. I am perplexed by this. Can't they afford an I-pod or if they are that stupid, maybe a cassette Walkman? This is akin to the Chinese water torture.One of my neighbors does this as he does yard work. Classic rock being blared out of crappy speakers would be less annoying. Even insane people down at the nervous hospital have enough common sense to not do this for fear of inciting a large retard donnybrook.

Hipsters on fixie bikes have recently taken to whistling and will look at you to make sure that they have sufficiently annoyed you. As if they weren't annoying enough with their ridiculous pink bikes ( oh dang there's that word again) and their skinny jeans, they have given decent folks everywhere one more reason to want to punch them right in the ironic mustache.

8. First Day On The Job.

From the lowly laborer to the biggest hot shot executive, there are few things as uncomfortable as the first day on a new job. At this point, you don't know your ass from a hole in the ground and you get that what-the-hell-are-we-gonna-do-with-you kinda vibe.

It's almost like first grade all over again as you are shown around and introduced to your new co-workers. Greasers are usually well advised to keep the pomp altitude low and the grease sheen at low reflectivity for these first few days. Best to keep bad-ass tattoos out of view as well.

It can be daunting to see all the new procedures that you will have to learn and getting everybody's name straight. Not to worry however, you will soon fit right in ,know what to do and eventually realize that you hate 90% of your co-workers.

9. Lack of Beer.

This can be traumatizing for some and down right tragic for others. Nothing more depressing than a refrigerator without any beer inside. The refrigerator is sad, I can tell. Any greaser worth his salt however, never runs out of beer, so I will end on this note as I head to the beer store.


  1. Serge, you're awesome!!!

  2. I think Pink is a good color on me....don't tell me what I should do ;-)

  3. hmmm I think purple is worse than pink both in aurally and visually -whereas pink is just a shade of red, purple is the combination of a warm and a cool color resulting in an ambiguous mess...both should be used in moderation or not at all ;)