state of the union, bitches

i spent 5 days in DC last week as part of my MBA program. we spoke to pundits, campaign managers, chiefs of staff, members of congress, etc, etc. as a hot-blooded cynic, i find myself frustrated with the lack of progress in this country. we battle over budget earmarking for special interests and whine about the war on the middle class. people feel disenfranchised and apathetic towards our political system. after a 5 day stint in our nation's capital, i say this to america: get off the fucking couch and participate.

yes we have an inefficient government. you wanna know why? our founding fathers recognized the necessity of checks and balances to facilitate change slooooowly. you know what happens to governments when rapid change and an legislative "efficiency" take flight? totalitarianism! i'm pretty sure i'd rather have a "do nothing" congress than a militia doling out orders. do you agree?

another point that hit home to me which was iterated by both republicans and democrats in DC was that the media is royally mindfucking us. liberal as well as conservative TV, newspapers, and radio alienate us from how the branches of government actually work (can you name all 3?) we hear all this talk about politicians accepting money, dinners, and prostitutes from evil and special interest groups. shiver me timbers! did you know that the national nurses association and movon.org are two of the largest lobbying groups in washington? in the meantime all we hear about are the donations from evil corporate empires. what about those damn greedy nurses who change bedpans all day!?! surely romney and hillary shouldn't listen to the nurses self-serving agenda. *insert sarcasm*

people complain about their viewpoints not being heard in washington. i think you bitches should just align yourselves with whichever lobbying group or special interest group that represents your voice. there are thousands of organizations you can support. hell, there's even a lobby for nude christians who juggle. (i shit you not)

all politics are local. do you know who your congresswomen and men are? did you know that they only have a 2 year term so there is extra incentive for them to listen to their local constituency or commit career suicide within 24 months? have you been to their town meetings? spoken or written to them about the issues that concern you? they are your direct line into washington.

while we're at it, a lot of those "earmarks" that we hear so much about on CNN and Fox News are funds set aside for local constituencies who make themselves fucking heard. if you're pissed off that 700k is going to a bike trail in Minnesota, then call up your state rep. tell him/her that you want your own goddam bike path. fuck, i want my bike path paved with the ashes of jerry falwell so i can revel in the satisfaction that a faggot rides his hot pink bike over the old bastard on the weekends between drug binges and promiscuous sex orgies. i want a drag parade held on my bike path every year on falwell's birthday. i'll go dressed as ann coulter and i will chant ignorant comments up and down the trail all day while purchasing meth from gay prostitutes. we'll gather up all the pagans and praise the glory of nature instead of the glory of christ while doing naked somersaults up and down the falwell asphalt...yeah, i'm going to get THAT passed in next year's budget.

none of you have to agree with me and i'm not trying to start any debate here. my point is this: if you aren't participating, you are not allowed to complain. shut the fuck up and vote for city council, for mayor, for governor, for your state reps. if you aren't represented, flog your issue and make it heard. turn off american idol and get involved in our democracy.

gratuitous ani difranco quote:

i love my country

by which i mean

i am indebted joyfully

to all the people throughout its history

who have fought the government to make right

where so many cunning sons and daughters

our foremothers and forefathers

came singing through slaughter

came through hell and high water

so that we could stand here

and behold breathlessly the sight

how a raging river of tears

cut a grand canyon of light

"dance of mist and fog" by andy, age 5

as i have mentioned before, i was a really gay little kid. i liked to dance and sing. i loved unicorns. i also loved pegasus. i used to get annoyed that pegasus couldn't breed with a unicorn to create the perfect hybrid of a unicorn with wings. but i digress...

i watched A LOT of MTV as a child. (hey, it was the 80's, what was a gay kid supposed to do?) i would keep my nose glued to the tv, imitating every shimmy, every crotch grab, every spin-kick possible. when i was ripped away from the top 10 countdown and forced to go out in to the real world, everything around me would become a sound stage where the video for my latest hit single would be filmed.

i had a particular fondness for fog machines in 80's videos. i would use whatever devices i could to create the "fog" effect. for instance, my grandmother had a humidifier in her living room and i would crank it full blast and slowly "tiger-crawl" into the mist why singing "only in my dreams" by debbie gibson. other times i would be grazing the fruits and vegetables aisle with my mom at the grocery store and bust into the zombie routine of "thriller" when the produce spray would come on. the most effective "fog machine", however, always happened in the driveway. i would belt out stevie nicks' "stand back" while doing the running man in back of the exhaust pipe of my parents' station wagon. my mom would get really pissed at me for that one. she didn't understand art.

carrie bradshaw is a douchebag

i admit it, i'm a homo who watches (watched) sex & the city. all the sexual one liners, miranda's sarcasm, samantha's unabashed promiscuity, charlotte's conservative prissiness, what's not to like? i'll tell you: carrie fucking bradshaw. she is the most self-absorbed, entitled cunt on modern day television.

carrie bradshaw is the personification of why i hate women in america. she spends all of her time trying to find a guy who will worship her and revolve his world around her shoe fetish. every fight she gets into with mr. big centers around the fact that he will not come to her every beck and call. regardless of her selfish disposition, she lets loose like a fucking 5 year-old every time they get into a fight. mr. big, who usually tries to talk through an issue reasonably, is always painted as the bad guy when carrie is just being an obnoxious bitch. hey carrie, maybe your boyfriend would treat you a little better if you didn't fly off the handle whenever he accidentally looks in the wrong direction.

how bout the end of the series when she's with the russian? she gives up her career and identity be a lady of leisure and chase around her sugar daddy in france. even worse, she gets bored after 2 weeks in paris because he won't pay enough attention to her, goes back to new york, and ends up with the dude she's been complaining about for the past 5 fucking years.

carrie bradshaw has bred a generation of women to believe that their men should allow them to act like assholes or face the consequences. women should be allowed to spend $40,000 on shoes. they should be allowed to give up their careers to shop all day and sit on their asses. carrie is a placid, soulless character who sets a dangerous, however accurate, precedent for young women. go outside and stop a 20 or 30 something female and ask her which sex and the city character she thinks she is. my money is on carrie cuntface bradshaw. what happened to feminism? what happened to compromise in relationships? what happened to valuing your content of character?

"The most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous."

fabulous? fuck you, carrie. i hope someone stabs you in the face with the heel of one of your manolos then burns your skin with your own lit cigarette. get a personality and a real job.

willpower is just a flush away

i've never had a super-hot body. there have been times in my life when i was definitely overweight, other times i've been slim and tone, but never "hot bod" quality. i'm 6'3", wear a 36 inch waist pant and weigh around 205-- not grotesque by any means. needless to say, i fight my fat genes, handed down from my snailishly slow metabolized ancestors, on a daily basis. i work out like a fucking horse, otherwise i would be a bonafide lard-ass. i know people who work out less than me, are in much worse cardiovascular shape, and eat more than me and they still look better topless than i do. life isn't fair. someone throw a pity party.

unfortunately, i chose a career that puts me on the road about 48 weeks per year to distant, exotic cities such as kansas city and dallas. i would argue that many midwest/southwest cities are not hallmarks of healthy living so it's a constant struggle to find the local whole foods and to make good decisions when its time to put on my eatin' dress. when i find an organic grocer, i eject myself onto the salad bar like a hooker throwing her dead baby into a dumpster behind red lobster.

while generally, i find ways to make good choices on the road, i feel like the hospitality industry is damming me to a life of obesity. let me explain: i have platinum status at marriott hotels which means they have to let me fuck them in the ass when ever i feel pissed off. that being said, they kiss my ass from the moment i check in. said check in ass kiss usually involves some sort of gift bag that always includes a bag of milano cookies, oreos, salted honey fat-girl peanuts, etc, etc.

there was a time, not too long ago, when i would succumb to the high-calorie snacks in the check-in bag or just leave them on the nightstand (only to be ravaged during a late-night feeding frenzy). over the past 3 months or so, i've been attempting diligently to get "hot", so i've come up with a solution:

flushing cookies down the toilet.

i got sick of watching them glare at me from across the bed. i can't handle the temptation, so now i take my weakness into my own hands. seriously, if i could procure 1 piece of advice for obese americans everywhere it would be: flush your snacks. it's such a satisfying act. it's quick, aggressive, guilt free. i mean let's face it, no one wants a fat friend.

straight guys are so gay

i'm at the kansas city ariport where i just finished my chicken sandwich and 3 bud lights to help me deal with the fact that my flight is majorly delayed. the story of my life.

in any case, some douchebag sits next to me at the bar as i'm pounding 16 oz. buds and orders a chef salad and a BBQ sandwich with NO BREAD and a side of "what-can-i-get-instead-of-fries", oh, and also "a club soda". he's about 38, has too much product in his hair, carries a tumi computer bag, and is wearing a striped shirt.

i immediately fight the urge to say "fuck you, you fucking pussy. enjoy not being a man while eating your chef salad with your side of air and ice cubes". instead, i focus on the complex mathematical equation of 20% gratuity on my $20 bar tab.

when did straight guys become so gay? i mean, i get it: you're healthy. you eat salad and drink water and you wax and primp more than fucking tammy faye baker (may she rest in peace).

what annoys me most is that people expect that, as a gay man, i should look/act/order the same shit. fags are the new straight men. we like pizza and beer. we wipe our noses on our t-shirts. we go to baseball games and say rude shit to your girlfriend. some of us can fix our own cars. most importantly, we kick the shit out of bitchy straight dudes who are on 1500 calorie diets.

i wanted to hold this dude's head over a plate of cheese fries and scream, "eat the carbs, you fucking faggot!"

now excuse me while i act straight and head to starbucks for a triple non-fat cappuccino and slowly page through the new martha stewart living.

if it looks like a duck, if it quacks like a duck...

i'm a little bitter at the christians today, possibly a bit of recent PTSD. in any case, quoting americablog: "Parents and Friends of Ex-Gays (PFOX) believes that it can 'help people with unwanted same-sex attractions (SSA) realize their personal goals for change -- whether by developing their innate heterosexual potential or by embracing a lifestyle as a single, non-sexually active man or woman."'

the organization i used to belong to used to try to play these jedi-mind tricks on us young homos too. they give you the option of either searching out your internal capacity for heterosexuality (i tried and failed miserably) or just acceptance that you can never have sex. ever. with anyone.

the "internal conversion" bullshit is fallacious (what? who said "fellatio"?) and is dismissed by the american psychiatric association. the fatally flawed reasoning behind the latter "non-sexual" option does not take into consideration that even if an individual agrees to avoid homo sex for their entire lives, they still have the natural desire to mate with another human being. whether or not i decide to hump men, i still want to share my life with a partner, grow old together, buy some children, plant perennials, etc. the churchy people cannot get this through their thick skulls. i used to hate when my identity would be watered down to a "lifestyle decision". i live a gay lifestyle whether or not i suck dick. i'm a gay person. you cannot separate the two.

how do you categorize a gay christian who chooses to be non-sexual? are they straight? no, but the church will not acknowledge their gayness either. not only are these people marginalized in society at large but they are marginalized within the very church walls that are supposed to be their salvation. i know people who have chosen this route and apparently can justify their decision within themselves. i just hope they don't get eaten alive with self-hatred and depression along the way. doesn't sound like a healthy christian "lifestyle" to me.

when i came out to my mom at 17, she called her best friend who told her that i was "just like job" and that we would come out of this "test" with God's blessing. if leprosy is anything like getting a handjob by a hot spanish exchange student in the back of my mom's minivan, then sign me up!

obviously, the main reason i left the church is because i could not reconcile a dichotomous life. i couldn't stop grinding my teeth and biting my fist at church, holding back the urge to run up the aisle and punching the shit out of the minister. i couldn't let some moron who knows nothing about me to define my identity based loosely on a couple of ancient scriptures. to all the fundamentalists and non-sexuals who deny their gayness: if it looks like a duck, if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck no matter if it fucks other ducks or not. know what i'm saying?

jesus is magic

starbucks. 9:30 am, central time. overland park, kansas. steph and i are emailing back and forth about new t-shirts. in walks hot 19 year-old, corn-fed meat-sicle. he sits down to my left with a middle aged gentleman. they start chatting about some jesus camps around kansas. the meat-sicle wears a t-shirt that reads "god is our refuge and our strength". it is the same color combo as motto apparel's living the dream shirt.

my ears perk after overhearing, "i know that god is leading me everywhere". i chortle but try to hold it in, in turn shooting foam from my grande non-fat cappuccino out of my nose and across the room. (THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!)

i immediately email steph the circumstances. her reply:

“oh I totally know what you mean – this one time, God led me to this prostitute and we fucked and did coke all night and I think he gave me herpes.”

my reply:

"one time god led me to this pair of loafers at barney's. they were $300 and not on sale but it didn't matter because god wanted me to have them. i was like, 'let's get em! praise the lord!'"

meat-sicle says, "you've been in my prayers."

i look over, naively hoping he was talking to me but to no avail.

older christian says, "did you hear about that bridge collapse? a whole school bus full of children fell off the bridge and survived. what a miracle!"

um....what about everyone else who died? was god too exhausted from saving all those school children to save everyone else? did he have to run to the bathroom? maybe he was watching oprah and got distracted? oh wait, he must have had to jog over to darfur to save some africans. oh wait...no, god doesn't stop genocide, he just saves school buses full of pretty, white american children.

why don't people use their power of reason? it makes momma cry. i think it makes jesus cry too.

How We Roll @Motto

T-Shirt Selling Mania and YouTube Plug

The vid in the above post was filmed by a journalist this past Saturday at the Somerville Art Festival, which we rocked. They show us about 19 seconds in, after the pudgy Asian. We had a constant crowd of people laughing at our sarcasm and creativity. I think our table was a refreshing break from the booths of native American dream catchers and hand-painted shitty pottery. There was another t-shirt vendor who had Nietzsche quotes on all their shirts. One of our customers walked over to us and said, "You need a masters degree to get their shirts. You guys make something I can relate to. Do you have anything with stick figures?"

Other favorite quotations of the day include:

"Those guys are jerks."

Upon seeing Arrhythmia's Gonna Getcha: "Oh my god! I have an arrhythmia problem! I can't wait to wear this in front of my mom. She's gonna cry."

"I hope you're proud of yourselves."

Regarding Tequila Mockingbird: "I have to get this for my friend Christy. She has a mocking bird and she's an alcoholic."

"That's not art."

Alyssa, a 12 year-old junior high-school student, commented on Black Girls Have More Fun: "That's true. I know some and they're really fun."

the difference between me and them

i've been thinking a lot about this post over the past week or so. having left my family and their cult-esque version of christianity about 6 years ago, i frequently struggle with a similar guilt that V experiences in her entry.

my parents and brother don't talk to me because i'm no longer a member of the church. they don't acknowledge my "lifestyle" or my partner of 3 years. sometimes they'll answer the phone if i call and they forget to screen. i miss them inexplicably, regardless of my disdain for the church.

my parents are in their late 40s, are in an unhappy marriage, have no savings for retirement, have a house that's falling apart, and are floundering above the poverty line. they are perfectly capable of getting themselves out of their financial ruins but don't take the initiative to do so. i'll spare you the pity party but suffice it to say that i feel guilty for not being around to help them. i'm madly in love with my partner whom i just married. i make a lot of money. i own my home. i'm planning on buying investment properties in the coming months. i went to college. i have a new car. i have retirement savings. i've travelled all over the world and stayed in some of the most amazing places known to humanity.

i've sent them money. thousands. aside from just plain old guilt, i send them money because just before my freshman year of college my dad took out a 28k loan and i eventually dropped out. i feel like i created a financial burden for them by asking them to take out the loan in their names. my parents have since refinanced their home and paid off all but 5k of the loan (i get the details from my grandmother who is not a fundamentalist) but i still send checks because i feel like i abandoned my family just as much as they have abandoned me. what helps me sleep at night is the fact that i know i can at least help them get the roof fixed or the electric bill paid. i do, however, get frustrated because they won't talk to me but they can cash my checks; i guess it's a loop hole in the religion.

in any case, i think my parents suffer from chronic fear of life's imminent possibilities outside of their microcosm. they are afraid to be ambitious, to think for themselves, to define their own destinies. i had to leave before that fear permeated my life and sent me spiraling into a life of ignorance, poverty, pulpit manipulation, and mediocrity.

my message to V is this: you left a model for people to follow. maybe you feel like you abandoned those neighborhood children but you still showed them that there was a way out, whether or not you realize it. i don't think leaving was an act of selfishness, i think it was a matter of survival. what good would you have done if you stayed and looked after a half-dozen children at age 17? you would have ended up just like amanda. you are different than them because you escaped and found a way to transcend the fear that keeps them barred in their dysfunctional lives.

in the typical andalusian-blog-posting-ani-difranco-cliche fashion, here is one of her lines that came to my head when i read V's entry that basically sums up whatever it is that i'm trying to say:

god help you if you are a phoenix//and you dare to rise up from the ash//a thousand eyes will smolder with jealousy//while you are just flying past

5 more reasons why i need to live in austin

brisket at iron works.

cool shit at gomikitti.








cocktails at the belmont.

the patio at momo's.






suzanna choffel. this white girl can sing.

*Straight* Weddings Are Stupid

violent acres posted an entry a couple days back highlighting why weddings are stupid. she points out the ginormous expense of the dress, the open bar, the fancy photographer, the tropical paradise theme, etc.

i agree with her 100%. wouldn't it be better if people were like, "hey honey, let's get married in the back yard and instead of an over-the-top reception, i'll pay off $30,000 of our debt"?! or "let's put a down payment on a house instead of throwing a party for 200 of our relatives that we never speak to."

this is EXACTLY why more people should get gay married. let me illustrate: my partner and i are getting married next weekend. we spent under a grand on our rings. we did go ape shit on our suits and barney's ties and dolce & gabanna shoes, but it still cost about 1/3 of a vera wang wedding dress (we're homos, what do you expect?). we're getting married in a park by my cousin who is a JP and having a reception of about 50 friends and family. yes, we pissed many of our friends off because we kept the reception small, but whatever, we didn't want to go into debt over this event. we're having the reception at our favorite restaurant in boston which has a gorgeous private dining room. dj, photographer, 4 course meal, flowers, and open bar will run us about $12,000. ...and it will be gorgeous. yes, you stupid straight women, you can have a simple AND beautiful AND inexpensive wedding if you can think outside of your martha stewart wedding magazine bubble and recognize that the event is not about showing off, it's about celebrating your commitment. you may say, "but i've been dreaming about my special day since i was a little girl". yeah, well, i've been dreaming about fucking luke skywalker since i was 5 but your childhood dreams don't always come true, do they bitch? you are not a worthy, all-deserving princess. your wedding is not just about you and i have to think that 99% of straight men would prefer what we're doing compared to the $60,000 self-indulgent pepto vomit fest that are the straight weddings.

remembering jerry falwell

america carries a heavy heart today as jerry falwell passes on to another realm. i pay tribute to him by citing a few quotes from his many years of christian ministry:

"I do question the sincerity of people like the Reverend Martin Luther King..."

"Labor unions should study and read the Bible instead of asking for more money. When people get right with God, they are better workers."

"I hope to see the day when, as in the early days of our country, we don't have public schools. The churches will have taken them over again and Christians will be running them."

Jerry on the anti-christ: "must be, of necessity, a Jewish male"

On the 9/11 attacks: "I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People For the American Way, all of them who have tried to secularize America. I point the finger in their face and say 'you helped this happen.'"

And my personal favorite: "AIDS is the wrath of a just God against homosexuals."

May you rest in peace you fat, bigoted fuck.

confronting the colonel

had more work drama this week with this dude (see ani difranco montage). i'm finally standing up for myself though. it feels good, like punching a nazi.

IT'S FOR HER

my friend travis made this short. freaking hilarious.

have you ever fallen in love with a city?

deep in the heart of texas...

revenge extravaganza - dedicated to "the colonel"

i got royally fucked over by a "team member" at work. since i can't delve into cor-pirate details on my blog, i will describe the situation using ani difranco lyrics:

"and the next time that i saw you//you were larger than life//yeah you came and you conquered//you were doing all right//you had an army of suits behind you//and all you had to be was willing//and i said i still make a pretty good living//you must make a killing//and i hope that//that you are happy//i hope that at least you are having fun//oh cuz everyone is a fucking napoleon" -napoleon

"tell me who is your boogieman//that's who i will be//you don't have to like me for who i am//but we'll see what you're made of by what you make of me" -willing to fight

"smile pretty, and watch your back" -every state line

"i am warning you i am weightless//and the wind is always shifting//so don't hang anything on me//if you ever want to see it again//i am telling you i'm different than you think i am" -million you never made

and the real kicker which outlines my ever so subtle revenge extravaganza (coming to a city near you, summer of 2007):

"you are subtle as a window pane//standing in my view//but i will wait for it to rain//so that i can see you//you call me up at night//when there's no light passing through//and you think that i don't understand//but i do//we don't say everything that we could//so that we can say later//oh, you misunderstood//i hold my cards up//close to my chest//i say what i have to and i hold back the rest//'cause someone you don't know//is someone you don't know//get a firm grip, girl before you let go//for every hand extended//another lies in wait//keep your eye on that one//anticipate...

...if there's anything i've learned all these years on my own//it's how to find my own way there//and how to find my own way home" -anticipate

Think I'll Go To Boston//I Think That You're A Retard

has anybody heard this song? it was on at the gym today. i actually stopped when i was walking by the TV to catch a good look at the lead singer so that if i ever run into him on the street, i can kick the shit out of him. the lyrics are naive and stupid beyond belief. i googled the lyrics and found the band's website(augustana); they're out of san diego. just in case the track is unfamiliar, here are the lyrics to the chorus:

I think I'll go to Boston//I think that I'm just tired//I think I need a new town//to leave this all behind//I think I need a sunrise//I'm tired of the sunset//I hear it's nice in the Summer// some snow would be nice

ok asshole, GO AHEAD! move to fucking boston, you ill-informed little emo-bitch! pack up your bags and that rat's nest haircut of yours and come see the sunrise from the waterfront in the middle of february when there's a windchill factor of -25 degrees. yeah, the snow is real nice when it's flying at your face horizontally at 35 miles per hour like shrapnel flying out of a grenade launcher. i'd take baghdad over february in boston.

you hear it's nice in summer, do you? last summer was really nice in my 4th floor walk up with no central AC. maybe you haven't heard of HUMIDITY down there in san diego, but in late july, when you walk out of your apartment in BOSTON, you instantly get pit stains and it feels like you're breathing through a straw. you'll have to use 2 handfuls of leave-in conditioner to keep that greasy ass hairstyle of yours. oh, and all your black rock-star outfits? you'll probably pass out due to heat stroke headed from newbury street to cambridge surrounded by 2,050 asian MIT students crammed onto an un-air conditioned bus. yes, i pray you, move to boston.

maybe you'll meet a new "lover". so full of hope! i hope you like bitchy, dumpy, entitled women who think getting dressed up to go out means jeans, black shoes, a string of pearls, and their new ann taylor sweater set---because that's all you're gonna get! welcome to Generica! boston has about 5 hot, interesting single chicks and i'm friends with ALL OF THEM and i can say with great certainty, NONE of them would date your whiny ass.

so go ahead, MOVE already. your song sucks and you deserve to suffer.

men's event 2007

essie and i went to the fenway community health center benefit for the 3rd year running. it's a bunch of gays sashaying around in tuxes giving self-congratulatory speeches on all of the good work they do for AIDS. needless to say, i slammed 2 vodka martinis within my first 10 minutes there. by desert i was a *little* sloppy. i asked an asian man at my table if he'd prefer to use chopsticks to eat his carrot cake. then i put my hands in prayer position and bowed. i proceeded to call him mr. midori the rest of the night. i told him to call me. i don't think he's gonna call.

i totally got raped today

...in a corporate sense, that is. people were shooting the messenger left and right, criticizing my "note taking" capabilities and stabbing me in the back for not doing their job for them. all the more reason to own your own business. someday i will just fire all the motherfuckers that get up in my face.

smile pretty and watch your back -ani

T R Knight (of Greys Anatomy) responds to slur

i used to talk a lot of shit about ellen because her talk show glosses over her gay identity. i attributed her lack of "gayness" to her network contract, basically selling out in order to make her show more palatable to the ignorant masses. i take it back after watching this clip.

the sexiest rental car ever

i often joke about the unattractive, mid-size sedan-ness of the rental cars i get when i travel on business. this week i have some ford station wagon suv thingy with like 10 seats in the back. i have to say, it really impresses the clients when i roll up in that big hunk of detriot abortion. much to my amusement, as i was walking up to the car after a meeting, i noticed the first 3 letters of my license plate. couldn't have said it better myself.

please board according to your group number or i will fuck you up

i travel every week. i'm at the airport around 6am on monday morning, headed to some god forsaken mid-western state. i have check-in and airport security down to a science.

i'm willing to accept that i travel much more than the average person and i like to think that i am patient with those who may fumble at the check-in kiosk or who forget to take off their earrings at security. i never bother the attendant at the gate unless i have a real problem. i realize that they will make an announcement if there has been a delay, if there is room available for upgrades, etc.

there is one aspect of travel, however, that infuriates me every fucking week: the boarding line. everyone hovers over the gate as if it's a fucking race to get on the plane. i don't know about you, but i'm not in any rush to schlep onto a 25 year-old tin can so that i can fold myself up like a fucking oragami swan, crammed between 2 800 pound, disease infested management "consultants" who don't understand the meaning of "please turn off all cell phones and electronic devices".

american airlines boards by group number which is printed in large font on every boarding pass. the directions are simple: enter the boarding line when your group is called. they don't say, "breathe down the neck of" and "step on the heels of the person in front of you because the plane might leave without your fat, ignorant ass". you'd think the baby jesus himself were on the other side of that gate handing out hundred dollar bills by the way people dart towards the entrance.

i have platinum status with american so i always get to board with the first class people, and many times get a first-class upgrade. there were 4 (count 4!) people in line this week who were in groups 3 and 4 who jumped the line. i LOVE when the attendant sends them out of queue and gives them a nasty glare. "you have to wait" may be my favorite phrase in the english language. i'm usually parked in a seat until they call the "platinum members" which is when i elbow and push my way through the flock of sheep to hand over my boarding pass, turn back around to the crowd, toss my hair, and waive coyly at all the assholes waiting to dump themselves like a week old turd into their rickety coach seats.

why can't americans learn the virtue of patience?

i'm making it my personal mission to bitchslap the sense of entitlement out of people until we can all organize ourselves in a waiting line like grown-ups. the plane will not leave without you, although i wish it would. back the fuck up!

p.s. the bathroom in the front is for first-class ONLY so go do the pee pee dance in the back where i don't have to look at your ancient, sagging grandma ass.

NYE

nye6
Originally uploaded by get that thing out of my face.

uploaded everything from last weekend to Flickr.

happy birthday 2007!

last night i had bette davis eyes, today i have bette davis lungs.