Stupid Americans

I love to screw with time. Even as I write this on a Friday morning web-log-ing tear I am already planning to make you think I wrote it Thursday. I feel bad for being so utterly useless this week so I’m padding things a little. Hey, if girls can fool us with padding so can I. Dammit.

Why was I so useless this week? I think getting things gathered together for this weekend’s silliness coupled with trying to recover from last weekend’s silliness is part of it. I also blew a whole evening tinkering with my new iPod and trying to bend iTunes to my iron will. One other semi-interesting thing happened this week but I’m not saying nothing. I have a reason.

In fact, the reason is this. After years and years of annoyance I have come to the realization that talking about great good things makes them go bad. I have a multitude of examples. I can think, off hand, of at least three women with whom things were progressing nicely until I allowed myself to think things were progressing nicely and to mention them in conversation at which time things went entirely to hell. The same goes for jobs, vacations, new toys, etc. If I talk about them, they get screwed. And so it goes.

So, I’ll talk about useless things. I’ll bitch and whine and moan. I’ll tell you about the ghosts of drunks past and the echoes of drunks to come but I won’t talk about anything that really matters. Amazing what getting old will do to you. Wisdom and patience, I pray for you every day.

But on to today’s (yesterday’s) rant. I sat through a goddamned green light this morning because some jackass decided to be nice and let a dude make a left turn out of a gas station and across three lanes of traffic at an intersection. Call me crazy but: 1) can’t you tell whether dude has any chance of making the turn and then determine whether or not to wait for him? and 2) don’t you notice there are eleventy-hundred people behind you who are unimpressed by your samaratin ways and just want to get where they’re going? Jackass.

Did someone declare June 4 the day of the yard sale and forget to send me a memo? All the way down the street to work I rode behind a gaggle of old and crippled and morbidly obese bargain hunters doing half a mile an hour while drooling on their steering wheel and weaving calmly down the street ogling the unbroken line of yard sales. Useless, annoying, idiotic, goddamned Americans. I love my country. It’s the people in it I can’t stand.