Guest Blog

Today's entry comes from DangeRuss:

I have someone I'd like to give a big ol' punch in the junk:

I want to deliver a junk punch that is hard enough to knock some sense into my wife's cousin's head. She just posted on the FB that she took 3 of her little kids to the chiropractor. I think the oldest girl is 5. Seriously, what 5 year old has back or neck issues that would require treatment!? Let alone the 4ish and 2ish year old. Pa-chow! Take that sound effect of my imaginary junk punch. On top of all of this, I've done a little research into the quality of treatment that chiropractors deliver. They can help with neck and back problems, but there is a substantial amount of cases and research that shows that cracking the spine can cause bulging and ruptured disks, severing of the spinal chord, strokes, and a few cases of death as a direct result of visiting a chiropractor. Why should sending toddlers to a chiro even be a thought, especially with the damage that twisting and popping the spine can cause? I want to punch my cousin-in-law in the junk, and I want to punch any chiro that would treat toddlers, a hard junk punch with a roll of nickels in my hand for extra inertia and extra pain.

I saw two lesbians holding hands with their daughter, walking up to greet an old man. This got me thinking. Do you think that a lesbian couple has asked one of their fathers for a sperm donation? That way the child would share DNA with both mothers. This totally makes sense to me. Obviously the father would be of the opposite partner who is carrying the child. When I asked, you would have thought I had slapped them across the face. Geez.

I finally said it. The shop that we replaced has been gone for 3 months. 3 MONTHS!!! A quarter of a year. I am tired of people coming in and asking if we are under new ownership, or order something from the older store. Not even the floor is the same. Are you really that dense?

A couple comes walking in last night. They act so surprised to find a new store, which I sort of understand. I don't have any personal feelings for an ice cream store so I can't really identify with them. The woman says, "Oh. Well. The older store had an ice cream that I used to order all of the time." )At this point, I am sick to death of people telling what used to be here. I don't care. In my frustration I thought, what would Larry David say?) I replied, "I don't think you did." To which she replies, "Oh yes. All of the time." "Well, they have been gone for three months. How big a fan could you really be?" She says, "Oh, I just loved it." "That seems like a casual love." They didn't buy anything, but they weren't going to anyways.

I have a number of junk punches to hand out.

I went to the Monsters of Folk concert in Oakland. The concert was very fun. While walking a block to the venue a homeless black woman walked past muttering, "You'd think it was a snowstorm, all these white people." For speaking the quote of the week, I am awarding her a junk punch to give to the person of her choosing. She will probably choose the government (they

are responsible for how she is), that b*tch who is encroaching on her territory underneath the overpass (skank needs to step back), or her competitor in collecting aluminum cans (and while he is writhing she will become the can czar).

While at the concert, there was a group of friends who decided that talking loudly would be appropriate. Remember, this is a folk show. Some of those awkward conversations were almost worth not being able to hear the music well. The chubby girl of the group had a crush on one of the more popular males of the group. Before most of their group had gotten there, she had said some sexually inappropriate comments his way, on top of trying to buy him a drink several times (rufies perhaps?). Turns out, she is dating the short chubby boy in the group, but is a friend of the guy she has a crush on. I am talking myself in loops, I'm starting to confuse myself. Anyways, the point is they were jackasses. I realize that they were at a Korn and Limp Bizkit show three years ago, and their tribal tattoos and multi pierced ears (hoops, if you were wondering) fit in to thatshow much better. Why did you pay $40+drinks to come to a folk show, and then talk through most of it? I want to junk punch you.

This man is crazy. CRAZY!! He is crazy to the point where I took his picture and didn't care if he saw me doing it. How did he begin the conversation you ask? Oh, he begins by telling me about a high-speed car crash that killed at least 3 pedestrians. No, it hadn't happened recently, he just wanted to tell me about watching America's Most Wanted recreate the scene... a few years ago. What a loon! Then he tells me that there is too much salt in the ice cream. And then he tells me to switch the chocolate we used to a company that has been started by WIRED magazine. That sounds like a great idea. We will switch from the chocolate that is awarded Best Chocolate every year, to a company founded by techies. What a genius!

I went to a Graduate School Portfolio Day. I saw something that actually made me laugh out loud. I couldn't get a better picture, and the pictures didn't translate well. Anyways, this girl. This girl thought that a great way to introduce herself would be with a tube top that is rouched all the way around, a size too small so it wouldn't slip down. If that tasteless piece of clothing isn't enough, she paired it with a structured harem pant. Think MC Hammer, but the pants had boning so the shape would be fully inflated at all times. Why stop at the pants? You shouldn't. She had on hooker/tranny/bondage boots. The heel was about 5 inches, but I guess you would call them a wedge because there was no negative space underneath the shoe. I can't imagine her thought process. She wakes up in the morning, gains her bearings, and realizes that because she partied a little too hard last at both the Bondage Babes gathering and the Transgender Society's Roast of MC Hammer Gala she now has no time to change before she goes and presents herself to prospective schools. What a reject.

Today I saw a woman in a bra that had to be 10 sizes too small. She turned around and because she was wearing a black and white horizontal striped shirt, I thought her back looked like an Oreo. In other words, I think we need a name for those folds that are caused by the bra being too tight. Might I suggest E. L. Fudge? Is there some term that I am just not aware of?

UPDATE: Double Stuffed. I think that is a winner.

Weekend

Can I junk punch an albino on principle alone? Stay inside, and don't make me see your freak show.

Friday

I can't believe that I even have to address this. Do not reach behind a sneeze guard to grab something. People blow my mind with what they find acceptable. We serve diamant cookies. People will reach over the entire counter, behind the sneeze guard and grab cookies with their hands. Really?! Also, they will grab a handful of small spoons, take one, and put the rest back in the cup full of spoons. I just don't get it. Today, a woman grabbed a metal spoon, used to stir coffee, took it outside, and then brought it back in after she was done eating with it. A man actually reached OVER the sneeze guard and grabbed the specific cookie he wanted. Why do they think this is alright? I am a big advocate of not even touching the glass if you have to point, let alone leaning against the glass. One time I was at Bajio with a friend when a woman in front of us was talking on her phone and bossing the Lation gentleman working. She was standing on her tippy toes so that she was able to point her finger directly over what she wanted. All the while she only gave single word commands as if the worker was a dog. I interjected, "Excuse me, but I don't really want to have whatever is on your hands on my food. And, for your information, he can speak perfect English even though he is brown." Fred started laughing. And from then on, the worker would give me a free soda and talk about his family. He probably had to deal with ladies like that all the time. I junk punch people in my imagination whenever they reach their grubby hands and take something instead of ask for it.

Whenever

Jim Gaffigan has a funny bit where he talks about being white. He says that he can't have a temper because he isn't Latin. People won't say, "Oh it's just that Latin temper flaring up again." They'll say, "He's just a d*ck."

In other words, I feel like my posts are too angry for me to be anything other than a d*ck.

Enough self-awareness already.

I want to junk punch men who wear flair on their jeans, i.e. summer sales guys. Who let Lisa Frank seize control of denim? These are the guys who are just douches, most of the time. When I lived in UT, I tried to be friends with a couple of these people, and I just couldn't do it. Turns out I don't care about how many sales you had over the summer, or the type of car you drive. And why in the hell are you bragging about the brand of jean you are wearing when it looks like you gave your little sister gemstones, sparkles, and rivets, and then let her have at it.

Do you have a run in with a douchy summer sales guy?

Friday

Working at this shop, I am tired of suggestions. I am tired of people putting in their two cents. I don't care. If it were a good idea, we'd have done it, or plan on doing it.

A creature comes walking into the shop today. She is in her 40's, has a swim parka and gaucho pants on. Oh, and did I mention her bright pink bangs? It was like she was trying to be the alternative Rogue. And did I also mention her sweet moustache? This woman could grow a better moustache then most of my guy friends, Josh I am talking about you. Only Danger or Nate could grow a better one. This moustache wasn't stubble, it was groomed. She could be both the villain or the damsel in distress if this were a melodrama. She was probably the third or fourth woman, probably a lesbian, that had some really nice facial hair. I don't get this. Is it a status symbol? Does the lesbian with the best 'stache get to be the club's Grand Puba? Anyways, this woman walks in and says, "Do you know what I think you should do?" What a stupid question. It isn't even a question, she was hoping for me to try and egg out her advice. But all I could do was stare at her upper lip. It was unbelievable. "The place before had the best chocolate cookies in the world." "Oh, we are planning on having chocolate chip cookies," I reply. "But theirs were the best in the world." "I could never imagine hiking the Himalayas just to taste a chocolate chip cookie. How did they measure up?" Even I couldn't believe I had said it. She walked out. Bwahahaha!

Thursday

Let me take you back to the days of TGIF. Can you remember Family Matters? Can you remember Urkel and all of his nerdy hilariousness? And then can you remember when they tried to do a bait and switch, giving Urkel the super-cool alter-ego Stefan? I can. And I remember thinking even then that it was b*llsh*t. Urkel isn't cool, and he never will be, so you need to get over it Jaleel White. I know it was him (he?) who insisted that he had a super-cool character that makes it with Laura, because nobody else gains anything from that plot line. As far as I remember, Stefan signaled the end of a great family sitcom. And for that, Jaleel White deserves a punch in the junk.

Tuesday and Wednesday

I forgot to do one Tuesday, so I will do two from Wednesday. Both are politically incorrect. Be forewarned.

The mailman at work has something weird going on with his face. Thanks to this season of America's Next Top Model, I think I can diagnose his condition as ptosis. And, his eye that is affected is either lazy or glass. In other words, I can't stop staring at this one part of his face whenever he talks to me. The shop has been open for about 3 weeks now, and until yesterday we hadn't checked the mail. Five times, five times the mailman has come in to, at first politely and then more and more rudely, to check the mail. I am usually the only one in the shop. I didn't even know if we had a key. By the time I could go talk to the office to get a key, the office would have been closed. In other words, there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. So the man who looks as if he worships Joan Rivers but is having the work done in installments can continue to throw me icy glares, can I use the plural if one eye is fake. Maybe the finish of that last sentence should read; can continue to throw me icy half-glares. But really, I want to junk punch him.

The second one: An elderly couple came shuffling in yesterday. The woman couldn't walk by herself and needed the support of her husband. To me it seemed as though she had suffered a stroke. Let me announce that stroke has claimed some people I hold close to my heart, both my grandfather and a neighbor woman who (whom?) I love just as much. I would not intentionally make fun of a stroke victim. Back to the story. This couple decides to whisper everything to me, and the woman slurs as well. Since they are standing behind the sneeze guard, I have a really hard time understanding what they are saying. Every time I ask them to repeat themselves, they stare at me blankly and don't repeat themselves. I just start giving them random samples of ice cream until they decide on a flavor. When they announce what they want, I don't understand them. I say, "Excuse me, but I can't quite understand what you wanted." The couple looked angry at me. They seemed to think that I was making fun of her stroked-out situation. But I wasn't! I do want to junk punch them, but I am afraid of a. having to be near private parts that are that old, and b. they might turn to dust.