The Toilet: is all very simple

There are moments in life that I appreciate.

For instance: When I am reminded that I am smarter than the average bear.

But this moment is bittersweet...when we are speaking of the simple mechanics of an invention from the 18th century. While I enjoy the fact that my brain functions....I am sad that I live in a society of complete morons. And I become perplexed on how they have survived to adulthood.

I was at a bar recently waiting to use a toilet. A girl came out and said "I do not know how to flush that. I am so sorry"

"no problem" I said.

I assumed the chain fell off. If you know anything about a toilet you know what I am talking about.

Then I saw the top of the toilet was removed. Whatever. I do my business and then I see that there is no flush handle.

So you see - the whole reason the lid was removed was because the proprietor of this establishment assumed any person of American drinking age would be able to reason through the simple workings of the toilet tank.

This person was wrong.

For some reason this individual that most likely has a license to operate an automobile, is permitted to vote and is able to reproduce and raise offspring - could not figure out that you simply had to lift the metal rod on the inside to activate the flush.


I went out to speak with my friend about this situation and I learned that she was in there and she was the first person in multiple uses to actually flush it.


I could see if the girl was being a pussy and the chain was off and for some reason she did not want to stick her hand in the tank to attach it. But, there was no contact with the water to flush (the clean water - mind you. The same shit you drink. The water system is not that complicated. It is all the same shit. Use your brain. If it was toxic or a tank of acid that would burn your skin off - CLEARLY, it would not be sitting there exposed. Even if the lid was on - they would be forced to mark it as a danger, if it was. Come. On. Think.). And even if you were stupid enough to think it was dirty...aren't you going to wash your hands anyway????

Have people really never met a toilet?
Have people really never solved toilet problems?
Have grown adults REALLY never lifted the lid of the tank and fixed an issue?

Even if you have had no experience with this, you must be mildly disabled if you can't figure it out. Unless of course this is your first time in modern society since leaving your primitive tribe or your release from your existence as a feral human.

"Oh...the flush handle is missing. Well...I can't flush it"

That is the thought process of someone that should be removed from society. If you have been wiping your own ass for 10 years or more, you should have the reasoning in your skull to figure out a toilet tank.

This is a person with very minimal reasoning's thought process:

"Oh...the flush handle is gone. Oh look...there is metal rod attached to the inside of the tank where the flush handle would be on the outside. And - if you push the handle to flush - I GUESS that moves the metal rod. Ok....ok....and that is attached to that chain. And that is attached to what looks like some kind of plug at the bottom of this tank full of water. Hmmmm...I wonder why there is this tank of water??? What is this water for? I have no clue where this water goes....BUT....since there is no aquatic life (typically) living in this tank and it is not big enough for me to swim in....hmmmm....maybe this water is some how utilized in the flush process. And MAYBE...that plug releases the water!!!! OK OK I got it. I got it!!! I need that plug to release and the plug is attached to the chain that is attached to the rod, so if I lift up the rod, I bet that would cause the chain to move. Then if the chain moves, it would pull up the plug and maybe something will happen - like the toilet will flush!!! I wouldn't put money on it. But maybe that is what happens. So the movement of the rod ends up picking up the plug. OH MY GOD....this is just like when you walk - you need to lift up your foot from the ground and you do that by picking up your leg AND NOT YOUR ARM!!!!

FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS KIND AND GOOD IN THIS WORLD... Really....really...there are actual members of society that can't figure out how a toilet works?

AND...I am not even going to go into how if you press the metal rod down, that would also work. Apparently figuring out the fact that movement of the rod in one direction also works in the other would be a complex physics problem only understood by people that work at NASA.

We are not hurdling satellites into orbit, we are not splitting an atom. We are flushing a toilet. For cryin' out loud, a pinball machine is more complicated.

This is a normal person's thought process:

"oh...there is no flush handle. I'll lift this metal rod so it flushes"

This is insane. It is insane.

Do people think the flush handle is magic? A working of magic? Do people think the flush handle is like pulling a rabbit out of a hat? It has no reasonable explanation via simple movements visible to the human eye? Houdini did not invent the toilet contrary to the belief of what apparently is at least 25 percent of modern society.

You know what magic is? Magic is an iPod. Magic is this computer. Magic is talking on a phone to someone across an ocean in real time. That is magic. Indeed, that is magic. Magic...because I will never understand nor do I care to understand it.

A toilet tank? If you don't get that, if you can't figure that out - I am not sure about you. Please - do not leave your home and reside as a shut-in. You are a danger to society.


I took the serious blog post off. This is a funny blog. Not serious.
If you would like manuscript of that blog post please send a self addressed stamped envelope to me.

The Unfriendlies

I do not care for unfriendly people.

You know them. Maybe you are one.

I do not like them.

There were two unfriendly men that lived in my apartment building.

One recently moved out. He lived below me. He probably hated me for this reason because everyone hates the people that live above them. However, I do my best to be a kind fellow apartment dweller. I do not walk around in shoes and when I would drop my TV remote on the wood floor, I felt bad. If I ran across the apartment, I felt bad.

But then one day a friend said to me: you live in the penthouse, pay extra. Who cares?

Because - I do. I know it is annoying.

There is one jackass that still lives here. The first time I saw him, I said hello and he looked past me and did not acknowledge me. Fine. He did not hear me or he had a bad day.

The second time...same thing. Fine. Strike TWO.

The third time he developed a new skill where he simply looked to the wall as he passed me on the stairwell. This is retarded behavior.

Fast forward endless meetings to today, he was coming down the stairs with his lady friend and they were having some kind of joyous conversation so when I saw them I smiled and said "H -----" and as the H sound of Hi exited my mouth he immediately turned his head to the wall. His lady friend who has been friendly in the past did the same. So I stopped, slithered over to the banister so the royalty could pass and cocked my head to one side and squished my face in an unpleasant manner and shook it a bit, as to say 'you are a jerk...and so are you lady friend"

He is a tall man, extremely thin, without much pigment and a tiny head. Therefore - I could beat him up and I am far better looking than him.

When people of greater stregth and looks take the time out of their day to say hello to the lessers:

1. One should respond as though another member of society has spoke and in the society I am familiar with: this is NOT overlooking them or turning your head 90 degrees to avoid eye contact.

2. These are the situations in which those challenged in brawn and beauty have basically been touched by God. When one of better looks and social graces has bestowed upon you their attention, show some common decency or rather, respect. comes down to this: I am obsessed with being well liked. When people don't like me - I freak the fuck out. First I take it all in. Blame it on myself, my actions, I dig through history trying to figure out what I did wrong. When I come up with the fact I did not kill your dog or mother - well then you lose. You are the dicksandwich.

I just want to say:

I love the word: Pistol


Not gun, not firearm. not glock (I don't know how to spell that because I am not a gantsta and they don't know how to really: is there a proper spelling?) are threatened in some manner and you raise one eye brow and look your attacker in the eye and say:

"I'll have you know....I am carrying a pistol"

This dignified approach will set the assaulter on their heels, especially if done in an English accent.

Let me tell you, not from experience but the experience in my fantasy world, this is an efficient way to ward off a mugger.

If you just yelled "I HAVE A GUN" you will get the beat down or your face blown off.

BUT..."I'll have you know .... I am carrying a pistol" is pure gold. The attacker will for that split second be trying to figure out what a pistol is, as he is familiar with gun, heat, glock, uzzie, assault rifle, etc...really I have no idea what hood talk is for gun.

This gives you just enough time to pull out your pistol or deliver a nice hard elbow to the face or fingers in the eyes.

"Don't make me get out my bayonet" would also work in this situation.

General Airport Crap

I have come to the conclusion that I am NOT funny unless I am bitching about people and their absurd behavior.

So really this is just a public service announcement. Yes - I do retarded crap too....but hey: I am just sayin'.

And really - as irate as I sound in no. This is actually how I keep myself calm. I amuse myself with my thoughts and scramble myself to scribble notes if I am lucky. A lot of my thoughts are lost as I don't put pen to paper it and that is sad. As when we lost music when John Lennon was shot...we loose humor on a daily basis because I am not diligent. My procrastination and ADD are my assassin. So sad for humanity.

CRAP....I crack myself up.

Back to my mission:

You may ask yourself: Where do people exhibit the most ridiculous behavior ever? The answer: The Airport. Having 8 airport experiences in 11 days: I will now give my report.

Annoying Airport Behavior:

The Wonders of a Metal Detector:

I have a crazy idea: If you know you are going to be passing through a metal detector - refrain from wearing every piece of jewelry you and your family own. Leave it in the family vault or a safety deposit box down at the local bank. There is no need to traipse through the airport in 19 necklaces, a giant watch and 45 bracelets. You are dressed like some sort of high end Tin Man. If only you had a brain, the security line would not be backed up.

And if you choose to do that can we PLEASE not play that old time favorite family game: what piece of metal is causing the alarm to go off?

I hate that game. I hate it. But there are people that insist on playing it.

You have plenty of time to start disrobing your metals before you go through. Just take it all off. Take off the jewelry. Get the belt off. Remove the roll of quarters from your pocket. Have you never traveled? Take off the coat. Take the lap top out of the case, remove the stupid bag of liquids, for cryin'out loud: take off your shoes. We are not all standing here shoeless for fun. There is not a trampoline on the other side of the security that we are ready to pounce in. Fool, take note of your surroundings. What else have you been doing for the past 20 minutes?

And as useless as you may think that all is. JUST DO IT. The Head of Homeland Security is not running the X-Ray machine at Terminal One, Security Check Point 3, Line 2 at O'Hare International Airport...odd as that seems to you - he is not. So stop acting like your civil liberties have been compromised and just do it so we can all move on to the next chapter of our lives. What is the use in making a deal of it?

Write a letter expressing your dissatisfaction. I have wrote essays to corporations on lesser crap.

You know who you are. You know the routine. You have seen it.

You go through: beep beep beep. You empty your pockets.
You go again: beep beep beep. Off go the watch and 98 bracelets.
You go again: beep beep beep. Now the belt comes off

Unless you are a card carrying member of the I-Have-Metal-Beneath-My-Skin-Club...this should not happen. No one should ever go through the MD more than 2 times.

For fuck's sake. Take off all metal or metal like substance before you enter the detector.

Use the fucking word: Metal Detector. It is not a clever name. It simply detects fucking metal. So remove it from you and be done with it.

Really...why aren't we thinning the population with this? Apparently the population of the U.S. would be a mere million if we did.

Say it with me: METAL DETECTOR - figure it out.

Dress Code:

There should be a dress code for air travel. Because, quite frankly, I do not enjoy setting my eyes upon fools.

I don't care if your flight is 45 minutes or 16 hours. I do not care if you are 2 or 99. You are NOT allowed to bored aircraft in pajamas unless you own the airplane. If your clothing is THAT uncomfortable, let me be the first to tell you that you have put on some weight and need to buy new clothes. Have you no self respect? I would not go to the corner store in pajamas let alone be seen in a hub of international travel.

I also can not stand people that wear shorts of an inappropriate length. The seats are close. No one wants the bare leg of a stranger touching them. Ick. However - that is not the real problem with me. It is the simple fact that it is typically cold on an airplane. Dress for your situation, my friends. In the fabulous ORD, I saw a young girl in shorts that could have easily been her underwear carrying around an enormous wool blanket. I have a crazy idea you little trollop: PUT ON SOME GOD DAMN PANTS. Who on earth would rather lug around blanket than wear some pants? Hey man - I don't like being hot either but unless the plane is going to Mercury (which it is not), class it up and put on some pants.

The Lingerer:
Ah yes. You see the gate agent rummaging around so that is your invitation to stand and linger by the entry even though you are boarding group 4. What are you doing? What? Tell me. You have a seat assigned to you. What is the deal? Is it your precious bag? You worried there will be no room for the bag? Check it. Check it. Check it. I am sorry to say that you are not THAT important that you can not check it and wait for it. And hey - I know it costs dollars to do it but they will allow you to check it for no cost if there is no room and you have an appropriately sized bag. So settle it down and approach the boarding area only when your group has been called. It is very elementary.

The Self Important DickSlap:
This goes out to the man on the SLC - ORD trip.

Dear Sir:
You actually have not one...but two violations. First you lingered. Oh, and linger you did. THANK THE LORD, United Airlines has that absurd double row for boarding. One for First Class, Preimier Execs, etc and one for the commoners. Without that treat your preformance would have been so passe.

So when we were a good 15 minutes out from even boarding you place your sorry self in the important First Class area, so we could all see you. But you did not stop there. No no. You proceeded to stand there with your hands free devise plugged into your phone (your obnoxious flashing bluetooth must have broken) and your lap top open and balancing in one hand.

OH MY GOD. THE MOST IMPORTANT MAN ON EARTH IS ON THIS FLIGHT. I sure hope this one doesn't go down because if it does the world will surely end.

This is the thing: Regardless of the show you insisted on putting on, we all know you are not important. We know you are a self righteous prick. No one was fooled. Now from above we can see that the airport is indeed filled with simpletons. However - it would take a special idiot to assume you were, in fact, important. We the people, are not duped by your act.

These are the facts: Important people DO NOT travel via commercial airliner, you freak! Important people have their own planes. Important people are given planes with decoy planes and there are missiles involved. You must be out of your skull if you think flashing various forms of technology and sitting in First makes you important. And if you are as important and irreplaceable for 3 hours like you believe you are...perhaps you should not be leaving the earth.

And hey - if you are of such importance, you also should not be unprotected, as you were, in a mass of people. Hey - I've gotten through security with a bottle of perfume NOT in a quart sized bag. Who is to say I don't have a pistol?

I'm going to go ahead and complain:

Chicago -

You have 2 days.

Two days before I freak the fuck out on you.

Actually - what the hell am I talking about? Summer arrived today. I am becoming one of 'them'. The 'them' I swore I would not become.

It was shitastic out today. Pleasant through the afternoon and then it turned into a humid hell. All beginning of summer crappiness.

I was sweating as I walked about Ravenswood Manor...admiring houses I'd like to live in with my imaginary children and well paid imaginary husband.

Whatever - this is what I have to say to everyone is Chicago:

#1: Please make reference to my previous blog about spring

#2: It is a no win situation with you spoiled freaks. Yes - I am here to offend. And I was acting like one of 'you' two seconds ago. I admit it.

This is the thing: All any Chicagoan does is bitch bitch bitch bitch about the weather going from cold to directly to hot.

Congratulations - we ACTUALLY had a good two months of tolerable temperatures. Spring like...wouldn't you say?

Lots of rain? Yes.

April showers bring May flowers and what do May flowers bring? PILGRIMS!!!

I love that.

BUT - still it has been pretty easy on the temperature.

And what is everyone doing? RUSHING the SEASONS. Bitch bitch bitch - everyone wants summer.

You people can not be satisfied.

Had we jumped to 83 degrees on May 15th - bitching.

We stay in the 60s - 70s in May - bitching.

So here we are on June 18 doing the spring-summer transition. That humid horsecrap thing. It is coming a bit later than normal. Is it that big of a deal?

As my friend Megan said:

Talk to me in October...when it is 85 degrees.

Does anyone recall Halloween last year?

Let summer start in late June as it is supposed to. Because if that season lasts through October 31 - like it did last year: That is FOUR months of summer and that is plenty.

You will be so sick of summer and you are going to want a nice stew and a pumpkin spice latte. And and it will be too hot for it and what will you do? BITCH about it.

PLEASE - for the love - STOP COMPLAINING. and I will too!

So....turns out: I found my dream man:

Too bad he would have celebrated his 151st birthday this year.

Obviously he is dead.

He is Theodore Roosevelt.

The reason I may be single FOREVER? They don't make Theodore Roosevelts anymore.

Extinct this breed is.

I mean sure...there may be one or two in about a million running around, so hunting this down is a job and a half.

Let's go through some traits that T.R. has:

Educated, Harvard style: check
Intelligent: check
Wealthy Family: check
Clever: check
Fearless and Brave: check
Man's Man: check
Everyone that personally knows him, loves him: check
Beefy: check

I just described my perfect man. I can let up on the Harvard and wealthy family - obviously. When one dreams - dream big. But still. Are you going to find all these qualities today?

Hell no.

Do you think someone that went to Harvard would actually be brave enough to fight in war on horseback or lead an expedition down an unknown river in the Amazon?

HELL NO. Mommy and Daddy would not have it.

What happened to this era?

I'll tell ya: It went the way of the dodo bird along with fancy hats and appropriate dress.

What happened to men NOT only being brilliant but also being brave?

Today, you either get some smart dude that would hire someone to install a shelf or some tough guy that thinks higher education is a waste of time.

The species divided and I don't get why or how.

And hey - I will admit the ladies of the world aren't exactly pulling their weight on these renaissance ideas of mine. I just happen to NOT be that incompetent lady. So in my reality: The men have failed me.

I will need to look up some lineage. Meredyth Roosevelt sounds like a regal lady of good breeding. I shall settle for nothing less.

Unfortunately - in today's world I can only think of one family that breeds intelligence with the bravery of war and big game hunting: The Windsor Family.

Really...has the marriage of bravery and smarts become so nonexistent that it is only available in other lands when a crown is involved?

Those Windsor boys are not beefy enough for my taste. But surely they please others. Just the other day Wills called me and asked me for marriage and I said, and I quote "gain 50 lbs and we will talk. I don't know how many stones that is - but surely you can figure that"

For God's sake people!!! Save America! Save the world! Teach your girls to be intelligent and bake a cake. Teach your boys to hit the books and shoot a buck!

Let's get some balance...we can in fact, can be it all.

Stop fitting into a stereotype!!

Giant Baby

So - I admit it. I am a baby. I am afraid of stupid things. Like bugs, and heights, and any creature that takes flight.

In particular anything that flies.

I do not like birds or any insect of any kind but add the option of flight and that insect or bird is my worst enemy.

I do not agree with a creature having three dimensions of free movement when I really only have two.

I am afraid of butterflies.

Yes. Butterflies.

I realize the rest of the world looks at butterflies as harmless creatures that flit and flutter about in their beauty. I do not see that. I see an erratic, dirty moth in a beautiful ball gown. Moths are dirty. I am NOT fooled by the beauty and pretty colors of a butterfly. You remove their colors and pretty dress and they are just common, toothless, trailer park trash like their moth cousins. Don't fool yourself, my friends. They just want to fly about to get caught in my hair, much like a rabid bat.

So this weekend, I took a big step. I confronted the fear. A little immersion therapy.

The thing is - like all my fears - I get comfortable, somewhat after a while.

I met my friend at the Nature Museum where I would actually enter the butterfly habitat.

This was me whenever a butterfly fluttered near:

And really...can you blame me? Look at all of them in this small region waiting to take flight and attack:

yeah yeah yeah...I get it. They are pretty:

But really who are we to judge a book by its cover? Sure they are pretty - but you don't know what is going on in their minds.

Next stop: I am going to enter the bird house at the zoo and not cower like a freak and run out like a maniac...perhaps next weekend.

**Special thanks to: Hope for taking that fantastic photo and Meaghan for once saying "Moths are dirty" and for some reason that stuck with me.
It is time. It has been asked for. A new blog entry.

UGH! Would you believe, I can't come up with something to bitch about?

I'd like to blog about my crunchy knees...but who would that entertain?

I have decided I will speak of the weather because we are on the brink of Spring. February and March are the worst for us here in Chicago.

Spring in Chicago is your drug addicted mother on welfare that ditched out on the family years ago and comes for a visit every once in a while.

This year she stopped by on December 26th and dropped off some Christmas presents and then high tailed it out of there in 36 hours. I think she came by again once. She came back again for a day or two in January or February - I can't remember...but it was a weekend and a nice visit. She is here again for a day - maybe through the weekend - but she is unpredictable - it is her nature.

Then she makes an alleged commitment to you on March 20th, some say March 21st - but since my birthday is March 20 - I claim the rights to spring. She is bad at commitments so she pretty much comes and goes until May or June - depending on her mood and then your step-mom, Summer, kicks her ass out...till she randomly shows up again in winter, unannounced.

Changing Seasons:
I am not sure how I lived without this for 9 years. There is something about the promise of change that really makes one hopeful and giddy. The entire city morphs into a different place at each season. I dig it. It works for me because I think I have some form of ADD and I can't handle too much of one thing.

However - I will say Chicagoans are the biggest pussies sometimes. City of Big Shoulders, my ass.

I can often be found screaming at the evening news when the weather hits a brutal and unlivable temperature on the third day. Yes. I said THIRD day. I can predict it. It is day number 3 when the news stations hit the streets to get the public's opinion. As though it is something one can rally against. As, though we can organize a coup against the weather. Give it up and deal. You live in Chicago. Chicago. Chicago!

It is the midwest, my friends, and the we have that huge mass of water known as Lake Michigan that can make it or break it.

You can't leave the door without checking the weather. You never know what may happen. Spring is notorious for this crap...but can happen at any time. When I first moved back here I did not have this in my routine. I went to work one day: It was 60 degrees outside. It was 30 degrees by 3 PM. I had my spring coat and that was all. My teeth chattered all the way home and I looked like an idiot.

"Didn't you listen to the weather" the co-workers said.
"I'm not use to that yet....I am from Arizona" I said sheepishly.

Another time it was clear skies. I was living in the suburbs at the time. When I took the train we got deeper into the burbs I noted there ... was ... snow. No snow in the city....yet the burbs...just 5 miles out it started. At every stop there was another inch on the parked cars. Then...I got to my stop and 8 inches were on my car! WTF? Oh...this is that 'lake effect snow' / no snow thingee. I had no snow removing devise at the time so I had to risk frost bite with my hand wrapped in a T-Shirt that was in my trunk to get it off. Stupid unprepared Arizonian!

I become enraged when we do experience the bad times. The 3 days of negative 17. The three days of 103 degrees. That is when the news stations step in.

Take it to the streets! Something must be done!

Who are these weaklings that can't take three days of intolerable weather? Who? I want their phone numbers.

This is what happens on the third day of intolerable weather:
"How do you feel about this weather" asks the newsperson

and the responses:

"well it is terrible. It is just unlivable. We are living in unlivable conditions"
"the real question is, how much longer will we put up with this?"
"I know I can't go on like this any longer. I am sick of it. Just sick of it"
"Something needs to be done. This is no way for people to live"
"This is just not how you want in your life right now. You want to be outside. You can't be outside when this is going on"

Excuse me...are we talking about the extreme weather that has lasted 3 days or has a foreign military taken control of the city? What is going on? THREE DAYS. THREE FUCKING DAYS and you are acting like there is a deadly epidemic of some sort. Has there been an outbreak? Am I that last to know?

Now - of course my opinions are different. I actually have lived somewhere called Arizona. A place where extreme weather rules the better half of the year with no breaks. A place where your car melts. A place where I spent the entire good part of the year dreading what was coming.

Hence, I moved. You know what...if you don't like the weather, move. It is pretty simple. People have been doing it for hundreds of years.

In fact, I demand these sallies live in a place like Arizona. Where one actually experiences extreme weather for more than 1 week.

I admit it. I am Goldilocks. I left Chicago because it was too cold. I left Arizona because it was too hot. I woke up stung by a scorpion, did the math, and got the F out of there. Actually I knew I was leaving before the scorpion got me - but NOTHING sealed the deal like that. Take me to a place without the devil's army (scorpions) and where it is NOT NORMAL for a cockroach to wonder across your path.

Being away and coming back has left me with an appreciation for the seasons. It is nice to never dread a season. It goes like this:

Winter: Hooray Christmas! Santa, shiny things, and lights! Snow! Hooray for the first snow.
Then...enough. I am sick of this winter coat and I have lost half my winter gear on a night of drinking to ease the pain of this weather.

Spring: Finally we thaw. This is the worst season. Spring is lying whore as explained above. You go to sleep with 60 degrees and wake up to a fresh blanket of snow. F spring. But it is a relief from winter and you take what you can get.
Then...enough. I need stability, I can't take the unpredictability.

Summer: Hooray! Bikes (not Rollerblades) and the beach. Laying in parks! Dining al fresco. Coats be gone! The Cubs! A busy city full of excitement!
Then...enough. I want to eat stew and sip hot drinks with delightful flavors.

Fall. Hooray! The BEST season ever. There is nothing bad to say about this. There are way too many to mention. The crisp cool air. The colors. The lack of sweat.
Then....hmmmm...that awesome first snow would be great.

In closing...February sucks for the weather...but it sucks even more for how it is spelled. I HATE IT.

I'm just sayin'

When I was watching 30 Rock this week...

Jenna - said something to the effect of taking a "silkwood" shower.

ummmm...I made that joke months ago in my RPDSS post.

That is RIGHT...I am funnier than an Emmy winning sitcom. I called that Silkwood shit before they did.

I rule.

WT Food...

White Trash Food...what is it?

We shall explore this topic today.

It is food of poor taste - yet with a price that far exceeds the value.

You see there is a difference between being poor and being white trash.

Poor people are just poor. Where white trash is poor and, most importantly: stupid.

Say there was a big Monster Truck Rally coming up. A poor person that does not have the money will simply not go. Whereas white trash will forgo paying the mortgage to buy 7 prime seats to the event - even though it is the 9th Monster Truck Rally they have been to that year.

White Trash Food and Drink:

Pop Tarts:
Where do I begin? If White Trash had a mascot it would be the Pop Tart. If White Trash had a flag, there would be a picture of a Pop Tart on it. They cost far too much money. I suppose you could purchase an off brand - but nonetheless. The disgustingness of this delight never ends. Some kind of icing, a gooey manufactured center, and bleached white flour paste has been baked together into the land's most offensive breakfast treat. Stop eating them if you have any respect for yourself and the human race.

Grape Jelly:
Not to be confused with a jam or preserves. In reality you can insert any jelly in here but grape is the most popular and is particularly gross. I believe I had an early post on my blog about how I was served dry toast at a well known and respected breakfast establishment and all I got was grape jelly. As though that would be good enough for me. At least give me some margarine for cryin' out loud. I know I am a freak - I like pulp in my OJ. But the thing is - I like to know that actual fruit was present in the making of my fruit food. This is why JELLY is gross. What is it? Plus - UNSPREADABLE. IT just chucks out and moistens the bread. YUCK.

White Zinfandel:
This is a starter wine. It is what you drink in college, out of jug. Lord knows I have been stinkin' drunk on White Zin in my life. All those time: before my 21st year of life. It is for underage drinkers that don't know better. Once you graduate from college it MUST end. You ever wonder why a restaurant will have a list of 10 reds, 10 whites, and there is ONE white zin? Because - no one drinks it. No one drinks it because it is an embarrassment. It is not classy. Graduate to a finer wine, like Charles Shaw's is $3.

Velveeta Cheese:
It is not even cheese. It is solidified oil. It is cheese that sits on a shelf. Plus I believe it costs more money than gold per pound. Now - I am not sayin' it ain't DELICIOUS in a hot chili cheese dip. Lord knows that is one of the finest culinary treats known to man. But it is...white trash. The price to quality ratio makes it WT. Plus no one in their right mind eats Velveeta with out an accompaniment like a can of chili. The flavor is nasty. You need to hide that with some nice canned chili. (also not a nice flavor without the Velveeta - two wrongs do make a right in this case)

There are foods that are commonly miscatorgorized as White Trash Foods. Again - cheapness does not signify WT. If you do not understand that - you do not understand the golden rule of White Trash

Kraft Mac-n-Cheese:
This is one of the greatest treasures of America. You having a bad day? Feeling low? You make yourself a box of MnC and you are on top of the world. I like to heavily sprinkle mine with pepper. Preferably pepper out of a grinder so I get that course pepper that adds just the right amount of class. Now - I remind you I am talking the powder mix.

Now - this is not to be confused with Velveeta's Shells N Cheese with that Velveeta goo in a pouch. That stuff tastes like...well...Velveeta which is gross. Velveeta Shells and Cheese is the White Zinfandel of MnCs. People that prefer it to the powder mix are confused. They think it makes them classy. It costs a premium and they think they are getting value. No no....if you think that...then you are white trash. I don't care how much money you make.

It is childhood favorite of the 80's. Maybe it still is. I can't see myself letting my kids drink sugar water - but hey - everyone needs a quick sugar boost. I won't say I won't. However - it is age appropriate. I am not sure an adult really needs to be drinking Kool-Aid. But maybe this is some people of lower income's only access to a fruit flavored beverage. For them - I say - drink you Kool-Aid if you need. The last time I had Kool-Aid - or the generic brand was when I had dysentery in middle school. My doctor made me drink a anti-dehydration formula and to flavor it: Kool-Aid packets. This formula was obviously make at home, poor man Gatorade. But this formula suited my mother's tight purse strings. Lord knows if she was told to buy Gatorade I would have died - far too pricey. this day - I regard lemon lime flavored Gatorade as "dysentery flavor" as that was the only flavor that tasted decent with the mix. And it tasted EXACTLY like the make-at-home Gatorade formula. You take some salt, some water, some baking soda, and a package of lemon-lime Kool-Aid mix --- you got yourself the yellow Gatorade. Yuck.

Ramen Noodles:

Cheap. For poor people. For people on a strict budget to live another day...not white trash. Don't judge. However - if you are eating this and not getting an Earned Income Credit on your taxes...please rethink your choice. It is 15 cents a package for a reason: it is crap.

Chicken Drumsticks:
What is wrong with chicken drumsticks? They are very economical and provide protein for your body. Sure it might be considered the greasiest part of the chicken - but it provides something, unlike a pop tart or grape jelly. We have become a society that shuns the drumstick. We are entitled mother-f-ers that want out boneless skinless chicken breast. Sure - it is healthier. But - The drumstick should never be overlooked for an occasional dinner. It is inexpensive, has nutritional value and is moist and tasty.

Now - I know this will enrage and offend people across this great earth. But remember - this is only my opinion. I certainly don't think you are WT if you enjoy these treats from time to time. But if all my WT foods are on you daily food intake...I might suggest there are actually far tastier and more nutritional food out there for your dollar.
So when I wheeled my 2 wheel drive 2000 Jetta out of the snow a couple weeks ago, I was reminded of one thing: Drivers Education.

Or is it Driver's Education. Is the driver owning the education? It could. Or is the Education being described as that for Drivers. It could.

I have no idea and I care not for grammar. It is a silly practice.

The important thing is that I know the difference between its and it's and their, they're, there... that is all I care about.

Anyway - I would like to send a shout out to all that had the pleasant experience of Drivers Ed with Mr. Arnold. I only had the pleasure of 'Behind The Wheel' with Mr. Arnold once. Once - for parallel parking.

I am very good at parallel parking. I can get my car into the most absurd places...then when the car leaves behind me...the color of said car is all over my bumper and sometimes on the side of my car. Whatever. They ain't good, like I good. I RULE at The P-Park. I am not too proud to brag. Perhaps I have MR. Arnold to thank. I doubt it. I just remember him flipping out and then drawing a diagram of what the tires were doing while I struggled to park in downtown Wheaton.

The reason I was reminded of DE (that is Drivers Ed, not Delaware) is because I was doing this forward - reverse - forward - reverse - forward - reverse action to get over the wall of snow.

I learned this action in simulator. Simulator. Did anyone have simulator besides those that attended G-Dub? UGH! It was by far the stupidest things know to man.

I sat in the seat in the back corner next to Mr. Arnold as he manned the projection of video circa 1967. I believe it was car 20. Let's just say it was for the sake of this story.

He would always yell at me because I was the closest target and he could see everything I did wrong. In the snow film we needed to get out of the snow. So I was forwarding and reversing my 'car' to get out. Yet...not in time with what the film was doing hence I got a 2 out of 100 score. The entire time he was screaming "Car 20 you are NEVER getting out of there. NEVER. What is going through your mind? What are you doing car 20??"

I am humored that he thought the damn simulator was an accurate evaluation of your driving skill. For those that don't know...the simulator was a room of at least 20 god damn fake drivers seat and controls and you had to drive according to whatever was going on in the outdated and retard film had going 1932 to the closest current year of 1970.

I swear to God there was either a simulator film or classroom film in black and white of a man in a f-ing Model T driving down the road giving out "friendly honks" to possible collisions. So that man was driving and sending out a friendly honk every 2 seconds. "there is a car" HONK. "There is a person getting in a car" HONK. "I see someone in that car, they may open their door" HONK. "we are approaching an uncontrolled intersection" HONK. "there is a child looking out the window of his home and he might escape his home and run like lightening into the street" HONK. "I haven't honked in over 4 seconds, something must be going on" HONK

It was beyond absurd.

I also recall the most current Drivers Ed film in Glenbard West's collection of archives. It was made at whatever time Laugh In was the hit TV show. It was a bunch of drunk people go-go dancing and drinking. The message was that you can't eat or drink coffee to sober up before driving.

Anyway- my point is. I was reminded of Mr. Arnold. Screaming at me about getting out of the snow in a simulator when I was practicing the method.

You are a lucky person if you had drivers ed anywhere but GW. All films predated the Korean War, sunglasses, personal computers, dishwashers and perhaps the bayonet.