Tag Archives: rants

Pet Peeves

I was asked the other day what my pet peeves were. After a few minutes, the person who asked realized the painful mistake of asking a curmudgeon for a list of pet peeves.   Now, we can name Donald Trump, Hillary Clinton, Bill O’Reilly and CNN but these pet peeves are individual and personal. Death and taxes are inevitable. I believe that pet peeves should be generic and universal.

Pet Peeves

Here are a few of mine. Thousands more to follow.

  1. Robo-calls and telemarketers
  2. Butt cracks
  3. People who invade your personal space when talking to you
  4. Stealth farters, especially in elevators
  5. All reality TV shows
  6. The guy who leaves the restroom smelling so bad it would knock a buzzard off a garbage truck
  7. The lady ahead of you in the checkout line who waits until all her items have been totaled before looking for her wallet (Did she think that the items would be free?)
  8. All waiters who wait until your mouth is full to ask you how your meal is
  9. Bad grammar
  10. People who found Jesus (Was Jesus ever lost?)
  11. People who come up to you and say “Smile!” (I’m a curmudgeon; smiling isn’t permitted unless the person saying “Smile!” falls into an open manhole.)
  12.  Public nose pickers and crotch scratchers (Yes, I’m guilty but at least I try to do these ugly things in private.)
  13.  Parents who abandon their uncontrolled children in stores, malls, movie theaters until you discipline the kids and the parents suddenly appear and act indignant.
  14. Drivers who take up two parking spaces
  15. The guy next to you who coughs continually on a non-stop flight from NYC to Buenos Aries
  16. The lady at the dining table next to you whose piercing shriek of a laugh would break glass (and eardrums)
  17. All commercials or ads involving the digestive system
  18. Born again anything (Please stay dead.)
  19. The phrase “Can I give you some advice?”
  20. People who make lists of pet peeves.

I know that you are itching to tell me your pet peeves so go ahead, I dare you; I double dare you; I triple dare you. (Yes, that’s another pet peeve.)

 

Election Postmortem

election-pm

“Indeed I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just.”

-Thomas Jefferson

 

“And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”

-W. B. Yeats

 

“Nobody ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American public.”

-H. L. Mencken

For this election, I’ve got a little list.

With apologies to Gilbert & Sullivan.  To the tune of I’ve Got a Little List from The Mikado.  Chorus is in Bold Italics.

for-this-election1

Martyn Green as Ko-Ko, 1930s

As someday it may happen that a victim must be found, I’ve got a little list — I’ve got a little list.

Of society offenders who might well be underground, and who never would be missed — who never would be missed!

The lady whose email servers have problems of their own

Thirty-three thousand disappear like a stone.

There’s the party outsider who praises in raucous tones

Every party but his and every country but his own.

And the election outcome denialists,

They’d none of ’em be missed — they’d none of ’em be missed!

 

He’s got ’em on the list — he’s got ’em on the list;

And they’ll none of ’em be missed — they’ll none of ’em be missed.

 

Apologists, deniers, spin room activists,

Irrational supporters who get me really pissed.

All TV journalists who speaks as though listeners care

And the other ones who claim to be balanced and fair.

The dead who vote Democrat but that theory is not sound,

For you see, Mayor Giuliani, they are already underground.

WikiLeaks, tax returns, foundation donations and grants

And all those fanatics who substitute enthusiasm for facts.

And that singular anomaly, the lady plagiarist — I don’t think she’d be missed — I’m sure she’d not he missed!

 

He’s got her on the list — he’s got her on the list;

And I don’t think she’ll be missed — I’m sure she’ll not be missed!

 

There’s the pestilential congressmen who give democracy a pass.

The judicial obstructionists who are running out of gas.

And apologetic statesmen of a compromising kind,

Who defend outrageous statements by saying – “Oh, never mind.”

Third party candidates without a world view

The little, lyin’, disgusting, crooked, low-energy crew

Bad hombres, nasty women and also you-know-who

The task of filling up the blanks I’d rather leave to you.

But it really doesn’t matter whom you put upon the list,

For they’d none of ’em be missed — they’d none of ’em be missed!

 

You may put ’em on the list — you may put ’em on the list;

And they’ll none of ’em be missed — they’ll none of ’em be missed!

Static

Static1

I really hate – dislike, am not keen on, disapprove of, cannot stand, wish it never existed, should not become its own reality show – static electricity.  Winter weather, combined with cold, windy, dry conditions, make me even more curmudgeonly about this phenomenon.

I am sure that I share this dislike equally with furry creatures like cats who I would otherwise despise.  Attempts to touch conductive objects – computers, light switches, metal poles – result in shocks so severe that I should by now be a prime candidate for the negative effects of shock therapy.

Just when you think it’s safe to touch that metallic surface with impunity, Mother Nature decides to give you another reason to wish that Mother Nature had never existed either.  Static electricity should be confined to those old high school science experiments where girls with long hair are asked to be Guinea pigs and attach themselves to Van de Graaff generators so that their hair can stick straight out.

Static3

Static electricity could be available in the spice section of the grocery store.  Need a little static?  Add 1 teaspoon to a full glass of water and stir.  Otherwise, I see no real need to fry the ends of my fingers every time I walk across a carpet in winter and reach for a metallic doorknob.  Zot!!  What’s the point, other than to get me all worked up?

At these moments I revive my inner Ezra Pound and say:

Winter is icumen in,
Lhude sing Goddamm, 
Raineth drop and staineth slop,
And how the wind doth ramm!
Sing: Goddamm.
 
Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,
An ague hath my ham.
Freezeth river, turneth liver,
Damm you;
Sing: Goddamm.
 
Goddamm, Goddamm,
’tis why I am, Goddamm,
So ‘gainst the winter’s balm.
Sing goddamm, damm, sing goddamm,
Sing goddamm, sing goddamm, DAMM
 

Winter is NOT supposed to be icumen in or astayin in; it’s supposed to be agoin out!

C’mon spring and summer, let’s get to those hot, hazy, humid days so I can complain about that.