OUT OF FOCUS

2007 IDIOT OF THE YEAR AWARD GOES TO....

David Carpenter of Continental Airlines.

David Carpenter of Continental Airlines. 

David Carpenter of Continental Airlines.

"Who is David Carpenter of Continental Airlines?" one may question.

He's an ass*ole.  That's who he is. 

He's a manager who works behind one of the many impersonal counters of Nashville International Airport.

And he doesn't have an ounce of dignity. 

"Yes, but who is David Carpenter?" one may press on.

Well...

He's the guy the cuts you in line because his coffee's more important than yours.

He's the guy that denies his own wrong doing.

He's the guy who finds a wallet.  And keeps it.

He's the guy who revels in his own petty superiority.

He's the guy who wore the dunce cap in class and still hasn't taken it off.

And lastly, he's the "degraded little self" whose political views permeate his work. 

The miserly manager who treated one of our uniformed soldiers with disrespect not only by his actions but by his words.

While disgracing the Army with his own words, the constipated co-worker believes that no U.S. soldier deserves to be treated with an ounce of priority.

I beg to differ, David.

That is why David Carpenter decides to take the soldiers seat, demand that he exit the aircraft and give his seat to Mr. "Allahu Akbar" instead because Mr. "Allahu Akbar" does not have a seat but is a man under scrutiny in this country and David must tiptoe around his demands, because David is not racist, David is a lover of all people.

Except those who defend his country.

...with his own words, David is a lover of all people, except those who defend this country.

Boo hoo. David doesn't like the current administration so what better way to take out his repressed anger than on every soldier that he encounters during the holiday season.

Is this how he treats every U.S. soldier who is trying to get home for the holidays to see his/her family?  Will the limited time he/she may have before they deploy once more?

Show a little gratitude, David.

That's who David Carpenter is.

And that's why David Carpenter is this year's recipient...

of the 2007 Idiot of the Year Award.

Dancing Topless at a Harley Davidson Show

I knew that dancing topless at a Harley Davidson Show would some
day pay off.  Oh, what to do at the Jersey shore on a crisp spring day when you and your friends want to cut a day of high school? 

IDEA 1:
Go Bowling?

IDEA 2:
Attend a Harley Davidson gathering, get rip-roaring drunk and have your older brother find you topless in the next month's issue of In The Wind?

Since I could never feel fully comfortable in those tri-colored bowing shoes, I opted for #2.

So I gather that Maddog, author of The Most Bangable Blog Babes, must have seen my Harley Eagle Spread from way back when.  I am grateful for his tribute and acclaim.

To not leave my readers in a cliffhanger, I must tell you how I landed on top of a wooden picnic table surrounded by flashing bulbs and leather with three of my best girlfriends. 

I can't tell you.  Because I don't remember.

I can only assume that we were most likely bored and on the hunt to explore as we bagged an afternoon of bowling and chose what was behind door #2; a limo full of leather clad, long-haired men snorting what I thought were Pixie Stix. Regardless, it was one of those experiences that bring back the warm fuzzy feelings that you experience on your, say, first day of communion or winning your first Easter egg hunt.

If anyone so choses, I shall elaborate more in the future about my Playboy Bunny Friend, most likely the catalyst that had led us to that lovely Harley Picnic.  But today's entry is not about her but about The Most Bangable Blog Babes.  And  I say thank you, Maddog, for keeping my teen memories fresh, fine and alive.

Its not Happy Holidays, Jackass, Its Merry Christmas to me.

Who started this?  Who's the overweight, pipe-smoking jackass that leaned over his grandiose antique desk and spoke in a somber voice into his desk phone, "Madeline?  Can you come in here, please?".

Madeline, a spunky five foot two redhead, is one of many retail employees at Generic Department Store, who was programmed just like a Stepford Wife to greet all holiday shoppers with a "Happy Holidays".  But Madeline, being the good Christian that she was, chose to say "Merry Christmas" to her next door neighbor, who came in to shop one fine afternoon.

"Yes, Mr. Fredersen?"  Madeline was one of his favorites.  She wore the pink fuzzy mohair sweaters he loved so much.
"Madeline, have a seat," he groaned.  Her sweater looked extra special today; a cubic zerconia cross that rested on her chest that rose and fell as she breathed.  "Madeline, one of your team members informed me that you used the phrase Merry Christmas?  Is that true? I didn't think it could possibly be true after you sat through the whole 20 minute orientation film on political correctness narrated by the dictator-groupie himself, Sean Penn". 

Madeline shifted in her seat. "Well, being that I, as well as my neighbor, am a true believer in Christmas, I thought it would be OK to say it just this once."

Mr. Frederson hovered over her, moving in for the interrogation.  "How do you know if your neighbors don't pray five times a day on an oversized mouse pad or whose ancestors weren't enslaved by us Christians, therefore, celebrating the spirit of Kwanzaa? How do you know?"

"We were in the same bible study?"

So you see where I am going with is.  If I could only clone myself, I would have my second self on a nationwide manhunt looking for the one jackass who started all this.  Is it the fear of lawsuits?  Or Boo-Hoo you hurt my feelings... Why is it OK to chastise the holiday of Christmas? Can you imagine what would happen if someone spoke out about the falsehood of Kwanzaa?  (Oh my God, did she just say what I think she said?)

For folks who don't know, this is what Karenga, the creator of Kwanzaa, had to say about Christmas back in 1966:

"The Christian is our worse enemy. Quiet as it's kept, it was a Christian who enslaved us. Quiet as it's kept it's a Christian who burns us. Quiet as it's kept it's a Christian who beats us down on the street; and quiet as it's kept when the thing goes down it'll be a Christian that's shooting us down. You have to face the fact that if the Christian is doing all this there must be something wrong with Christanity."

Hang on, let me wipe that tear from my eye, just like the crying Indian on the horse.  Only difference is I'm not crying for the trash that is thrown from a car and lands at my feet.  No, I'm crying for the PC trash that is becoming more and more society's  gospel of what is right and what is wrong.

I think George Orwell referred to it as Groupthink.

Merry Christmas.

On The Lookout for New York Licence Plate DVS 3697

OK, so I'm not really on the lookout for this car but just in case
the owner should Google his own license plate, he'll land on my blog and read about what an asshole he is.  Seriously?  Why sugarcoat the son of a bitch?

I love New York City especially during the holidays; the beautiful lights, the festive Christmas music, decadent window displays, even the Christmas carolers, yes the Christmas carolers.  Maybe not carolers like these people here but carolers begging for a dollar. A dollar well spent.  But I want to live  a life like these people-look at them-getting most of the holiday cheer as they can. I'd like to experience the holidays like this dazzling quartet. But I can't.  I can't because of people like asshole NY license Plate DVS 3697.

II can deal with the occasional cut off by an impatient driver and by occasional I mean at least one an hour.   But cut me off a bit too close and:

I will key the exterior of your newly purchased Porche.

I will launch my morning hot coffee at your car window (hopefully you had it rolled down).

I will scream racial epithets at you.

That's right.   I JUST DON'T CARE.

My therapist says its the A.D.D, and behavior like that I should do my best to suppress.

So, NY license Plate DVS 3697, you're an asshole.

I had just started crossing Columbus Avenue with my three year old in her stroller, when all of a sudden this Navy BMW came a little to close to my stroller wheels.  Cut me off with not a care in the world.  Now, if my daughter was not with me, I would have run after the car when it stopped at a red light and kicked it a couple of times.  Or if it was a really long light, I'd buy a slice of hot cheesy pizza and throw it cheese down on his windshield. 

The psycho behind the wheel look like Robert Chambers, the newly-released-killer-from-prison. So as my little one slept in the stroller, I was lucky enough to have psycho-driver pull up along the sidewalk and park his car.  Although I was tempted to ask him if there were body parts in his trunk, I knocked on his window instead.  I would've knocked on the driver's side window till my knuckles bled. 

Needless to say, I verbally freaked out on the guy, in a quiet, more holiday-spirited Hannibal sort of way.

On a more festival note, here is a festive video shared by a very talented actor friend of mine, Krissy Shields.

China's Imports: Poisonous or Paranoid?

Definitely not paranoid.  OK, so the timing to last night's  blog post could not have been more timely.

Anyone up for a night of fishing off the FDR?

Read more about it.    

I'm pissed off at the Chinese

I'm pissed off at the Chinese. That's right. Here's why:

1. They tried to pioson my pet.

2.  They tried to kill me with anti-freeze tainted toothpaste.

3. They tried to derail are kids for good with lead poisoned Thomas the Train.

4.  I'll take a worm in my tequila but not in my chocolate.

5.  They tried to choke me with cardboard in my vegetable bun.

That's right.  I'm pissed off at the Chinese and I am on a crusade to avoid buying MADE IN CHINA as much as possible.  And believe it or not, it''s not as bad as you think. 

All my holiday gift this year are being bought at ETSY.  Everything at Etsy.com is made by people like you and me who live in the U.S.A. 

Reasons to buy at Etsy:

1.  Be cocky and ethnocentric.  Its all made in the states.

2.  It's not being made by the small hands of a six year old enslaved in a sweat shop.

3. You don't have to wait in line and deal with bitter cashiers who think that you should
be paying them instead.

4. Overcrowded department stores can trigger overeating.  Look what it did to Sandra Bullock and I loved her in Speed.

5.  Look what it did to your other favorite-once-fat-free celebrities.

So, now every store that I walk into, and with every item I pick up, I yell across the store, "THIS ISN'T MADE BY THE CHINESE, IS IT?"

Get your fellow citizens attention.

And do something Good for the Holiday Season.

Record Breaking 12-Year College Plan Finally Completed

Today, marks the day
as an enlightened college graduate,
with my new found power
and brilliant cerebral insight.
"So Kali, so Kali?  What are you gonna do now?" Ms. Mommy Group asks.
"Drink", I say.
She walks away.
But the question makes me ponder
and yes, thank you for asking.
I do have "A Plan"
It involves taking my newly earned knowledge
and with that-
begin my new scholarly adventures like this:

1. Create my own line of hormone-free, grass-fed beef ravioli.

2.  Attend the next holiday cocktail hour in a corduroy blazer and impress the guest as I recite
essays on Proust.

3. The next person that asks me about "my new job", I'm gonna tell them I'm not hiring.

4.  Go to Vegas and see an Elvis impersonator.

5.  Pay a tribute to Temple's North Philly, the City of Brotherly Love, I will miss.

In all seriousness.  No. Really.

Here it is: