Showing posts with label Stupid People. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stupid People. Show all posts

Monday, May 4, 2009

The "Express" Lane

Ok, Ok, I suck at keeping "The Weekly Rant" updated every week. Because of this I am changing the name of this site. The Weekly Rant will now be known as "My Freakin Soapbox" But for now the URL will remain the same.

And now onto my new rant.....


I was in Wal-Mart (that’s another BIG rant) the other day to pick up a few small things. As is typical for Wal-Mart, they had 5 lanes (out of 26) open, 3 regular lanes and 2 “Express 10 Items or Less” lanes (one at each end of the store). I walked passed the first express lane because there were about 10 people in line. I walked down passing the 3 regular lanes; each had 3 to 5 people in line with full carts and screaming kids. I saw that there were only 2 people in line at the other express lane so I headed there. As I was only about 2 or 3 lanes away, a middle aged woman, wearing a muumuu and appearing to share one tooth between her and her husband / brother, dove into line ahead of me with a cart full of about 30 or more things. (Mostly coloring books, crayons, legos, paint-by-number books, other educational items and a 12-pack of Natural Light.) I stood there for a few seconds looking between my pack of gum, dozen eggs, and bottle of Mountain Dew in my hands and the treasure trove of MENSA related material in her cart when she turned around looked at the 3 things in my hands, looked at me, then turned around without saying a word. Trying to be polite, I just stood there looking at her like one would look at any talking bag of rocks, and didn’t say a word. I was sure that the checker would explain the “in’s and out’s” of the express lane. I was wrong. But I could no longer keep my mouth shut. Not wanting to start a battle of wits with an obviously unarmed person. I took a more passive-aggressive stance…I started counting each item as the checker rang it up. I wasn’t counting really loudly but loud enough for the muumuu clad preschool dropout, the checker and a few of the people behind me to hear. When the checker got to about 15 I started counting a little louder and kept looking up at the 10 items or less sign that was right above their heads. Needless to say, I received more than a few dirty looks from the sludge at the shallow end of the gene pool, to which I would snidely retort “What?”

After what seemed like hours and the line behind me had grown to around 8 people, the walking proof that Darwin was wrong, was finally ready to pay and leave, when out came the checkbook. ARE YOU FREAKIN SERIOUS!! Who in the hell still uses a checkbook to pay for groceries? Fine whatever…finally it’s my turn. I set my stuff on the counter and this dumba** checker looks at me and says, “Sorry about that”. NO YOU’RE NOT. IF YOU GAVE A SH*T YOU WOULD HAVE TOLD HER TO GET IN A REGULAR LINE!

So look, just a few things… if you have a basket of crap (and you’re in a regular line) and someone comes up behind you with only a few things, don’t be a dick, let them go ahead of you. (To answer your question…yes, I do). If you have more than 10 (15) items STAY THE HELL OUT OF THE EXPRESS LANE. And finally, if you’re the checker (in the express lane) stop smoking dope before you come to work, DO YOUR FREAKIN JOB and keep people like the poster child for birth control, OUT OF YOUR LINE!!


Thursday, February 12, 2009

"Food Stamps" -VS- Obesity

Let me first say that I'm sorry it's been so long since I have posted a rant. It's just my editor has been busy working for people that actually pay her.
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A little while ago, I was in the grocery store doing my weekly food shopping when I saw something that I’ve seen more than just a few times. I’m not sure why, but this time it just struck a nerve. I was at the checkout with a cart full of stuff. Because there’s nothing to do in line except read the headlines about Brad and Angelina wanting to adopt a small African nation, or Brittany Spears winning the Noble Prize in physics, or someone finding the face of Jesus in a raisin, I started watching the lady in front of me take the stuff out of her cart and put it on the conveyer belt. The woman had three children with her, and based on their sizes, I wasn’t surprised by what I saw…a dozen donuts, three bags of chips, a six pack of Yoo Hoo, a gallon of chocolate milk, a gallon of cheap ice cream, about 15 XXL Hungry Man TV dinners, two boxes of frosted flake cereal, a large bag of candy, three boxes of microwave popcorn with “extra butter flavor,” a box of Twinkies and four 2-liter bottles of diet soda.

My shock came as I stood there rolling my eyes and pondering childhood diabetes: the woman, whose obvious concern was her children’s nutritional welfare, pulled out her EBT card to pay for her “food.”

(An EBT card is North Carolina’s version of the Utah Horizon card. The EBT—or Electronic Benefits Transfer card—is the identification card for the government’s Food Stamp Program.)

Before I start ranting let me say this: I completely understand the need for food security programs, especially in economic times like these. My issue is not that she was using one of these cards—it was what she was buying with it.

The problem of obesity has become an epidemic. America is the fattest nation in the world. Childhood obesity is at an all-time high and it just keeps growing. (Word play intended.) Heart disease, obstructive sleep apnea, and high blood pressure are also climbing at alarming rates. In the past few years, the government has launched programs aimed at combating the epidemic of obesity. Yet you can still buy crap food if you’re on food stamps. Why is not the Food Stamp Program set up the same way the government’s WIC (Women, Infants, Children) program is?

WIC is a government program to give food and healthcare referrals for low-income women who are pregnant, have just given birth, or have small children under the age of five. A woman on WIC can only get food that has nutritional value and had been approved by the plan organizers. It should be this same way with the Food Stamp Program.

Now, once again, don’t get me wrong: if someone on the Food Stamp Program wants to get crap food, that’s fine with me. Just let them spent their own money to get it. The Food Stamp Program is funded by tax dollars from hard-working Americans and they want their money to be spent nutritionally improving low-income families, not contributing to the nation’s growing fat-ass problem. After all, chances are that a family on a Food Stamp Program might also be on a government healthcare program that is also funded by tax dollars from hard-working Americans (Medicare, Medicaid, SCHIP). And if that is the case, it would be a bunch of bulls**t that not only are those hard-working Americans paying for food that is contributing to the obesity problem but also the healthcare that will be used to treat the health issues resulting from said obesity!

Once again, proof that the system is broken.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

RUBBER-NECKERS

Now this is something that really pisses me off…rubberneckers. Or should I say “JACKASSES!”

Back in Utah, rubbernecking (or jackassing) is a problem, but here in North Carolina, rubbernecking rises to a whole new level. I swear, the people here must have never seen an accident, a cop who has someone pulled over, a lone cop sitting on the side of the road with his lights on (or off), or even a stalled car on the side of the damn road! Because whenever something like this happens, traffic comes to a stand still. (Sometimes for miles.)

For example:
Not long after getting here, I was on my way into Wilmington (through one of only two routes) to go to a job interview. As I pulled into the freeway, there it was—a huge parking lot. We crept along at a snail’s pace for a few miles and for nearly 45 minutes. I figured either there was a horrible accident or the draw bridge over the Cape Fear River was up. So… was the bridge up and letting an extra-long boat through? NO. Was there a massive accident with bodies strewn all over the highway? NO. There was a big tow truck helping to change a flat tire on a cement truck! Almost 45 minutes sitting in traffic, in long pants and a tie, in the ugly humidity, all because everyone needed to catch a glimpse of someone CHANGING A FREAKIN’ TIRE!!

After being here for a while and seeing a number of lame incidents like the one above, I’ve gotten quite used to screaming at the top of my lungs a few times for the leader of the pack to “just freakin’ drive.” But the other day I almost popped a blood vessel yelling at the guy in front of me. I was on my way home from work (at 7:00 in the morning) and I hit gridlock just before the bridge. I could see that the bridge was not up, so I knew it had to be something stupid, and of course I was right. As I pulled up to the reason I had to spent 25 minutes in traffic after working a 12-hour shift, being tired as hell and maybe a bit cranky and just all around ready to go home, I saw what the problem was: two cars off to the side of the road, a little bit of colored glass on the ground and a cop (with his lights off) talking to two people who had obviously just had a small fender bender. I thought, “only a couple more gawking cars and it’s home free.” And now the root of my rubbernecker frustration… this sub-moronic, dim-witted, brainless, jackass hill-billy in front of me actually slowed down and craned his neck out his window to get a better look. Who knows, maybe he wanted to see if it was his “kin” or not. (Freakin’ redneck.) After watching him do his impression of an inbred owl for what seemed like minutes, I finally had to lean on my horn and let loose a chain of expletives that would make Dennis Leary blush. As he finally sped up, the man looked at me in his rearview mirror and shrugged. He actually shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I’m a jackass.”

Fine, I understand—if you’re passing an accident and there are body parts scattered all over the road, then of course, look. If you’re driving down the road and you see a SWAT team pull over a van of illegal Mexican circus midgets, then please go ahead and stare. And by all means, if you see the Hawaiian Tropics Bikini Contest bus off to the side of the road, then rubberneck (I certainly would). But if it’s just a stalled car, sleeping cop, piece of debris, bag of homeless cats, or anything else petty, then please, for all that is holy, KEEP F*****G DRIVING JACKASS!!