“I owe you a hairspray.”
– Debby buys a can of Aqua Net for her bff, Beth (Hysterical Blindness)
I’m not in a very good mood today. It’s also hot as balls in the Valley today, so that doesn’t help. Rather than bitterly marinating in my own sweat & celebrating my pissed off-ed-ness alone (yeah, “pissed off-ed-ness” is a word. i just made it up. wanna fight about it?), I have decided to channel my crankiness into something productive. And thus, I give you a new category called Today’s Pet Peeve. The topic for today’s discussion is …(Drum roll, please!)
Not Covering Your Mattress While Moving
This morning, my four-legged master was dragging me along for a walk when I noticed a moving man carrying a yellowish box spring up a short flight up steps. Upon reaching the top, he placed it gingerly onto a cart, which also held a yellowy mattress. Neither piece was covered in plastic or any sort of protective material.
Now the yellow appearance aside (I’ll get to that), I’m always completely freaked out when I see people driving around with uncovered matresses tied to their rooftops. The place where you rest your body every night, and you don’t care enough to wrap it in a $10 plastic mattress bag from Target? It totally confounds me. Eat a peanut that bounced off a freshly-mopped kitchen floor – EWW! But sleep on a mattress that’s been trucked 50 miles down I-880 during high-smog rush hour — well, that’s just fine and healthful.
And another thing, what about making some stranger lug around your body fluid stomp pad? I don’t know how those poor moving guys deal with that. I’d constantly be negotiating my way out of that doody duty: “Yo, Samson! You take the 15 pound box spring and I’ll carry the baby grand piano.” Even if it’s completely snow-white spotless (like mine, natch), do you really want some guy who has just finished licking his fingers from a lunch of Cheetos and roach coach tacos to be smearing his paws all over your personal biz? There’s like 1/16″ of sheet that protects your shower-scrubbed body parts from his greasy handprint. If I’m going to let that mess touch me, I would rather go direct to the source and maybe get a minute or two enjoyment out of it. …I kid! I kid! (Actually, no I don’t. Call me, over ‘roided moving guy!)
So, please America, do yourself and your neighbors a favor: Don’t be a fool – wrap your tool, er, mattress.
And now, because I promised to discuss my disdain for nasty yellow pee mattresses, I give you my lastest poetic creation.
Ode to Yellow Mattress You couldn’t get up, You’ve had too much to drink. You peed on the bed And made your room stink. Your wife didn’t mind, She couldn’t be sweeter, About all the liquid That came out of your peter. It wasn’t the fact, That your pee wasn’t too smelly. It’s just because She once dated R. Kelly.
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen! Be sure to tip your servers! I’ll be here all week!
Man says JetBlue made him sit on toilet
By SAMUEL MAULL, Associated Press WriterTue May 13
A New York City man is suing JetBlue Airways Corp. for more than $2 million because he says a pilot made him give up his seat to a flight attendant and sit on the toilet for more than three hours on a flight from California.
Gokhan Mutlu, of Manhattan’s Inwood section, says in court papers the pilot told him to “go ‘hang out’ in the bathroom” about 90 minutes into the San Diego to New York flight because the flight attendant complained that the “jump seat” she was assigned was uncomfortable, the lawsuit said.
Mutlu was traveling on a a “buddy pass,” a standby travel voucher that JetBlue employees give to friends, from New York to San Diego on Feb. 16, and returned to New York on Feb. 23, the lawsuit said.
Initially, Mutlu was told a flight attendant had taken the last seat on the plane, but then he was advised she would sit in the employee “jump seat,” meaning he could have the last seat, the lawsuit said.
The pilot told him 1 1/2 hours into the five-hour flight that he would have to relinquish the seat to the flight attendant, court papers say. But the pilot said that Mutlu could not sit in the jump seat because only JetBlue employees were permitted to sit there, the lawsuit said.
When Mutlu expressed reluctance to go sit in the bathroom, the pilot, who was not named in the lawsuit, told him that “he was the pilot, that this was his plane, under his command that (Mutlu) should be grateful for being on board,” the lawsuit said.
When the aircraft hit turbulence and passengers were directed to return to their seats, but “the plaintiff had no seat to return to, sitting on a toilet stool with no seat belts,” court papers say.
Some time later, a male flight attendant knocked on the restroom door and told Mutlu he could return to his original seat, court papers say.
Mutlu’s lawsuit, filed Friday in Manhattan’s state Supreme Court, says JetBlue negligently endangered him by not providing him with a seat with a safety belt or harness, in violation of federal law.
A JetBlue spokesman declined comment on the lawsuit Monday. (source)
I always knew JetBlue was a shitty airline. Three hours on the can just confirms it!
Poor guy! have you seen those JetBlue bathrooms? OMG. Nasty. I have a serious personal fear of public restrooms, so this would be like major mental torture for me. Just considering the possibility of such a thing happening makes the Sweet & Salty granola bar I had for breakfast threaten to make a re-appearance.
Did they even bring him a packet of those gross blue tortilla chips and a Coke? Was he allowed to walk around the plane, or was he just glued to the seat like that other chick who stayed on her boyfriend’s toilet for two years?
Mutlu deserves a big ass settlement for this kind of nonsense. It’s not only disgusting and rude, it’s also a threat to his safety. The turbulence might have sent the guy bouncing headfirst into the sink, for pete’s sake. And is there even an oxygen mask in there in case of emergency? The emergency I mean, of course, is from the blue tortilla chips. My boyfriend always complains that the plane is stinky after people eat those. Eww. I can’t go any further into that because I’m feeling quesy again.
Which condiment you favor when you lather your hot dog — ketchup or mustard — reveals your politics, according to a noted political scientist.
“People who mostly or entirely use ketchup are much more likely to favor the invasion of Iraq than those who use mustard,” says Dr. Noah Frum, a senior fellow at the prestigious Institute for Political Advantage think tank.
“Red is an aggressive, war-like color, whereas yellow is much more passive and low-key, ” he says. Dr. Frum conducted his study when one of the political parties, looking for an advantage in the upcoming November elections, came to him looking for new ways to identify possible supporters.
“We’d done the usual ones — income, gender, education — so we decided to focus on food.”
Dr Frum gathered a number of subjects together, placed hot dogs and hamburgers in front of them, and gave them their choice of ketchup or mustard. Then he asked their opinions on a number of subjects, including the war in Iraq, terrorism and immigration.
“The ketchup eaters were much more likely to favor aggressive policies than the mustard-eaters,” he says. “Their food preferences weren’t the only thing that was ‘yellow’.” (source)
“The World’s Only Reliable Newspaper”, the Weekly World News, recently revealed this landmark research finding. It all makes sense to me now. Ketchup = red = blood = agression = war = loss = sadness = loneliness = desparation = bathroom foot tapping. At least that’s how I read it, but I am a known sicko.
Given the topic, I thought I would re-publish one of my poetic masterpieces from 2007:
the tao of ketchup
The Master of all condiments
may be squeezed upon the fried potato
but never upon the baked.
One may pour it like the Yangtze along the valley of ground steak
but never upon the choice cut.
Its molten lava red is simple beauty when drizzled upon the scramble
but never upon the soft white of the hard boiled child of the fattened swallow.
It is vinegar.
It is love fruit.
It is sugar.
It is high fructose corn syrup and unpronounceable preservatives.
it is one of fifty-seven varieties.
Reprints only by permission (meaning, send me some dough). I’ll just sit here by my mailbox waiting for my millions to come in.
A dark cloud has appeared in the heavens above California today. My back-up boyfriend, aka Ryan Reynolds, has announced his engagement to that blonde chick with the big hoo-hoos from “Ghost World”. Apparently, he got tired of waiting for me all these years and decided to just pull the trigger. Or maybe he’s just trying to get some hand in our relationship. Ok. So it’s imaginary hand in our imaginary relationship, but still….
If he goes through with this sham of a marriage, I will have to officially dump his ass and find a new make-believe boyfriend. Damn. All the good ones are taken, gay, or douchy. It’s so difficult being me sometimes.
I’m worried about the dolphins.
On Tuesday, two performing dolphins at collided mid-air during a routine at SeaWorld Orlando, killing one. 30-year-old Sharky paid the ultimate price. His head-butting, spotlight-stealing companion ate Sharky’s fish dinner because, he said via dolphin interpreter Arthur Curry, “Dude is dead. No sense in letting it go to waste.”
Meanwhile, another dolphin (name unknown) was spotted in Philadelphia’s Delaware River this week. Human officials believe he was following a school of herring. For anyone who has ever fished in or smelled the Delaware, you know these officials are full of crap because no self-respecting dolphin would voluntarily attempt to choke down any of the toxic three-eyed fish in that sludge.
I see a pattern forming here. Dolphin are pretty smart creatures and I think they are either depressed over the idiotic way humans treat them and committing suicide, or they are preparing to leave the Earth en masse. Or both.
If you suddently find a fishbowl in your home that wasn’t there before, the end of the world is nigh and the dolphin have beat feet, er, flippers. The bowl is their way of saying thanks and good luck with that whole destruction of your planet thing.
“This bowl was brought to you by the Campaign to Save the Humans. We bid you farewell.”
…and yes, I know there are two maybe three geeky people out there who would understand this post-Corona goofiness and find it funny. The rest of you can go back to your Cheetos and dramatic gopher videos now.