Ill be honest, I haven't really followed the SCHIP storyline. Mainly because I never liked the smirk on that smug Poncherello's mug and John always struck me as a bit of a fancyboy, but more importantly as a card carrying conservative it is my god given duty to hate, among other special interest groups, children... especially the poor uninsured ones.
I can however relate my own personal experience with a liberal using a child as a moral authority shield. My neighbor is an academic liberal type and as neighbors do, I regularly bump into him in the hall as he and his wife are off to some rally with brightly colored placards full of well thought out witticisms.
That being said, we always got along swimmingly and would exchange more than the usual hi hello how are you doing back and forth banter.
A few months back things started to change as the pleasantries ceased altogether and some odd questions poised to my visiting female companions. Looking back I don't think it was mere coincidence that the hostilities commenced right around the time I started receiving home delivery of The New York Sun, the city's finest conservative rag.
Seeing that for the most part I don't really like people, this sudden shunning was no sweat off my balls and I just chalked it off as one less hippie that I had to deal with on a daily basis.
But then he went too far....
To borrow from a popular bumper stick of the seventies...
You can mess with my money and you can mess with my wife but when you mess with my van and you're risking your life.
Replace Donktacular Karaoke Extravaganza with van, and you get the picture.
Mind you these events tend not to lean towards the Billy Joel Bon Jovi pop variety but rather the Guns Metallica Toadies kind of rocking and it can admittedly get kind of loud.
So loud that on this occasion nobody heard my neighbor knocking or even when he allowed himself into my apartment clamoring for us to tone down the ruckus, because I too not unlike the Wu-Tang Clan bring the motherfuckin' ruckus.
I don't normally lock my door partly because I'm a trustworthy hilljack, partly because I hate carrying keys, and partly because I have insurance so if I get robbed I get new shit.
Now this would be about the time that I grab my Bernard Gilkey bat and beat a body down at the drop of a hat but upon further inspection of the intruder I spied a mansupial chest pouch with baby on board.
I may be a bad guy but even I'm not gonna crack some guy in front of his kid. Regardless if it was only nine o'clock, regardless that he was trespassing, regardless that he tried to stop the rock.
He showcased his kid and he won the debate and as a result we turned it down and went back to singing Bonnie "Incredible. You found a golf course near the conference. Awesome Chinese. Now you find me a way around traffic. I love you" Tyler which anyone that knows anything knows that although the makings of a great GPS commercial, ain't nothing donktacular about that.
Then again it probably wasn't even his kid, frickin' lying liberal bastard.
For more karaoke shenanigans click here
9 comments:
Thanks. Since i moved to the burbs i've been missing the city. I miss the action, the energy, the pace, the people, etc. etc.
And then i read this story and i remember that i almost threw my neighbor off the roof at 3 in the morning one time and it all comes back to me.....
I'm liking the burbs more and more.
yeah. and it's one thing to see your neighbors across the street or across the yard, but to have to encounter them at 7:30AM (and you're either leaving or coming home ... albeit bedraggled) walking out of their apartments and having to make SMALL TALK (which I totally HATE) all the way to the elevator, and then possibly even out the door and to the subway ... god forbid they sit NEXT to you on the subway.
but, that's just me. i hate people too. or maybe it's just young families who think people want to hear a) their babbling toddlers and b) THEM babbling back AT their babbling toddlers ...
unfortunately living in the city will do that to you. or perhaps it's just the obnoxiousness of over-paid, over-educated city yupsters. the under-paid ones are pretty obnoxious as well, but in a "i went to swarthmore and i'm POOR !!! (although, my parents did buy me a $500K apartment in brooklyn)" kind of way ... sickening.
My mistake was getting uppity mobile. My first apartment although the size of my current kitchen was the greatest ever.
Peanuts for rent, working fireplace, one block from five major Subway lines and out of 16 units I was the only guy in a building filled with strippers and hookers whom after my assistance in resolving a conflict with an unruly uh um guest one evening provided me with certain fringe benefits not available at The Pierre.
Rhino, please punch me in the face next time youre in the city.
My ex once got a note put on his car, do to the dearth of parking in our neighborhood, they wanted him to know there would of been more room for someone else to park if he had pulled up a tad bit more. The note said, "Please be more aware."
I crossed out all the letters expect be ware, and put it back on their car.
Wow, a softer side of Miss C. I had you pegged as a tire slasher, but I like where your heads at with the pyschological warfare. Nicely done.
But....do you collect cookie jars?
The question should be who DOESN'T collect cookie jars....
So lily i'm still waiting for you to take me out for a drink now that you're living on MY island.
Um yeah I dont collect cookie jars... yet.
....but if its the new in thing let me know so I gets to stepping to me local Pottery Bar.
wait a minute, did someone say drinks?
Yeah, drinks.
Lily, email me at rhino_itall@yahoo.com and i'll give you my # so we can get together.
Post a Comment