Oct 17, 2009

The pants store

The trusty wife needed some maternity pants, so we went shopping. We ended up at this place called "A Parasite In Your Pod", and no joke, they are crazy. In the time it took to buy a pair of stretchy pants:

- A worker asked at least 5 times if we needed any help.
- I was given a brochure about a college savings plan for the kid. I found this particularly offensive as I have yet to complete college myself.
- I was offered subscriptions to two parenting magazines. I also take offense to this. Do they offer people without excessive facial hair only one magazine, or even no magazine at all? Did I really look like I could use two?
- I was grilled for my personal information to get on their "mailing list".
- My receipt was assaulted by a highlighter to show me that if I give up even more of my privacy, I could win $1,000. Like I would ever want to go back.

Moral of the story: Don't buy pants.

Oct 15, 2009

Out of the Matrix

I'm unplugged.

I took the blue pill. Or the red pill. Hell, whichever one got Keanu Reeves out of the Matrix. I deleted my Facebook account. Finally. I've always hated it. Hated my "friends", their stupid status updates, all the notifications about everybody taking those damn quizzes, and seeing how much time everyone wasted playing Mafia Wars. And as I type this I just realized that I spilled super glue all over my desk after gluing acorns together. And it won't come off. Stupid acorns. Stupid super glue.

Oct 5, 2009

White trash radar

Someone should investigate the phenomenon known as "white trash radar". You probably haven't heard of it but will know exactly what I'm talking about when you hear it. Here's the setup:

You have a trashy neighbor to the north, a whole apartment complex full of them to your east, and then some more a block or two south who insist on spinning the tires on their redneck Dodge every time it rains. Remember, this is purely hypothetical and not from any personal experience. You think they're just living their trashy lives, shopping/sleeping at Walmart, hollering in the middle of the night, and yelling at their poorly trained pit bulls, but then you see them walking between each other's houses, going to Walmart together, and sharing food stamps. Could there be a white-trash version of gaydar? Would it be called dumbdar? Retardar? Cheapbeerdar?