...

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

The Day After the Weekend Before

Well, I hope everyone had a good Memorial Day weekend. FB and I ventured out from the Foggygates Compound and took a few days for a road trip, and I am left with several observations about many of My Fellow Americans-

We are a very large, loud, rude people, and we drive badly. And our pets and children are also large, loud and rude. Add to that our constantly-heard refrain of "we saved your sorry asses in Worlds War 2", and I can't imagine why the rest of the world is getting a little tired of us...

I am reminded again of David Sedaris's wonderful observation- "it's rude to go to other countries dressed as if you've come to mow their lawn."

And that goes for our public streets right here in the good old US of A. I am fed up with being crowded onto buses, public streets and boats full of my fellow citizens yakking on their cell phones in my fucking ear while spilling popcorn, cheetos, soda and candy all over me, dressed as if they were on their way out of the "Dollar a Bag Day" at a Louisiana Goodwill store -and everything in their dollar bag is three sizes too small (or they are all three sizes too large).

Question- Is it really that difficult for you to go more than 45 minutes without eating or drinking? Must you spend every moment of your time with your cellphone glued to your ear, making me listen to your personal conversations (which I have to say, having now heard them, are pretty stupid and boring). And no, I don't want to see your underwear, bra straps, butt crack or tattoos which are located in places only very personal friends should be allowed to see them. That goes for piercings as well. Do not get me started about why you pierced that part of your anatomy...

And who the fuck dressed you? Phyllis Diller's crackhead twin?

For Christ Sake People! If you're proud to be an American, dress and act like it, at least in public.

And yes, you drive badly. Which made me go in search of an old list of-

Bumper Stickers I'd Like To See

Jesus loves you...but everyone else thinks you are an ass.

Impotence...Nature's way of saying "No hard feelings,"

The proctologist called ...they found your head.

Save your breath...You'll need it to blow up your date.

I used to have a handle on life...but it broke off.

WANTED: Meaningful overnight relationship.

Guys...just because you have one, doesn't mean you have to be one.

If you can read this...I can slam on my brakes and sue you.

Some people are only alive because it is illegal to shoot them.

Try not to let your mind wander...It is too small and fragile to be out by itself.



OK, rant done. To make us all feel better, I went over to see if I had any unused Audrey Tautou photos left, and found I did-

5 comments:

Catalyst said...

My! You do rant well. Couldn't be in more agreement with you, Colonel. But, we missed you and are glad to have you back.

Phoebe Fay said...

Yes, I remember when women were appalled if their bra straps showed in public. Now they're a freakin' fashion accessory. And the underwear showing... what part of "under" don't they get?

As for the midriffs, I don't want to see them. Unless you have abs that someone could break a brick on, you have absolutely no business showing them off in public.

Can't we go back to grunge? People were sloppy, but at least they covered up their parts!

God I'm a cranky old bitch these days.

Forrest Proper said...

catalyst- thanks! let's just say i was inspired by a particuarly "illustrative" boat and bus ride today.

phoebe- i know, i feel like i sound cranky too, but if you look at photos from 10, 20, 30, years ago, there is a difference. People have simply given up differentiating between public and private, whether it be their clothes, their eating or their behavior.

rant rant rant...

i sound like my grandfather... but it's TRUE, dammit!

Forrest Proper said...

ckw- i'm more than happy to blame W. give me ten minutes and i'll figure out why it really is his fault.

Phoebe Fay said...

Maybe it's not all W's fault, but his "election" is the logical extension of the handbag highway we're all riding to hell.