You Want Rants? I Got Rants. Gross Rants, Too...

Yeah its been a while since I blogged. Actually I have been blogging...on my private profile on MySpace. I have a few things to say that can't be voiced publicly at this time ;) so I've been there, not over here.

But today I'm here. Why? I dunno. I guess it started this morning with my train ride into work. Why do people insist on taking up spare seats with their bags? On one side as I boarded the train, we had a lady with her purse sitting squarely on the seat next to her. Why? I guess that handbag must weigh 700 tons and its uncomfortable on her lap?? On the other side as I board the train is Mr. Intent Businessman with his laptop out and his briefcase, laptop bag, lunch, gym clothes bag and who knows what the fuck else on the seat next to him. I take the seat across from Mr. Businessman. Some other lady makes the 700 ton purse woman move her purse so she can sit there. And you wouldnt believe the shit SHE had! She's been on the train before...I call her Miss Fucks Around Constantly. She has - no shit - 3 full bags. She throws one on the seat across from her, one in the aisle next to her, and puts the third on her lap. She then proceeds to do what she does everyday - why she got the moniker Miss Fucks Around Constantly - open bags, take out stuff, reorganize stuff, open a book and read it for four minutes, put it away, open another bag, take out a newspaper, read it for 4 minutes, fold it up, replace it in its plastic bag, put it in another bag, rummage through the big bag, find her purse, proceed to clean out her purse, dump the trash in another plastic baggy, place it in a different bag, replace the purse, get some food out of another bag, eat three bites, put it away in a bag, put that bag in a bag, put that bag in a bag, get her makeup bag out of another bag....

Yeah thats not annoying at 7 in the morning in the quiet car. A fucking adult with 3 full bags of shit who cant sit quietly for 25 minutes...

THEN Mr. How the FUCK Many Bags do I Need Just to Go to Work boards the train. Mr. HTFMBDINJTGTW has...oh three bags that are too big to be airline carry on bags. To go to work. And he wants the seat on the inside next to Mr. Intent Businessman with the laptop...the very seat Mr. Businessman has his briefcase and bag of lunch and computer bag etc etc piled on. Of course Mr. Intent Businessman is trying to find a place to put all his shit, meanwhile Mr. How the FUCK Many Bags do I Need is trying to crawl over ME, with his three large bags swinging to and fro and knocking me and Mr. Intent Businessman and everyone else in the immediate vicinity, in the face (although he managed to miss Miss Fucks Around Constantly...who really could have used a swift smack in the head with a large bag to maybe knock her out for awhile so she could relax).

He finally sits down (he's bigger than Eddie Murphy as the Nutty Professor, by the fucking way) and has NO place for his three monstrous bags except his lap (which is already sporting a monstrous gut) and the floor...the space between these seats that we commonly use for OUR LEGS. Between him and Mr. Businessman, there is no room on the floor for my legs, let alone me, and the whole fucking rest of the ride in is like a claustrophobic's worst nightmare....

How much shit do you need to go to work? I have one small bag containing a lunch and gym clothes. It sits nicely on my lap, and doesn't weigh 700 tons...

Speaking of the gym...rant #2... I've mentioned before that my gym is in my building, and I've also mentioned before that a lot of coworkers work out there. And I've also mentioned before that there is a locker room...and we all know that people change clothes in the locker room. I like to keep my eyes focused as high up as possible, and staring off into space, as I really...really....REALLY don't want to know what my coworkers look like naked. Just not appetizing. Coworker muff... UGH. And every damn one of them has winterbush (sometimes they catch you in an off moment and you catch a quick glimpse before you can refocus your eyes upward). No one in this gym knows how to even trim...double UGH. Now I'm not afraid of public nudity...hahah. I was raised by European hippies who paraded around the house naked in front of my friends (there's an old blog in here somewhere on that very topic), so I was not raised with shame for my body. That said, I do NOT undress my *lower regions* in the gym. Why not? Well, unlike most, I am friendly with the razor. A bit too friendly *ahem...* I really don't think most of those women actually ever looked in the bush to see what they got down there...and I don't want to parade around them giving them an anatomy lesson. AAAAANNNNYway... that said...

I walk into the locker room yesterday. I was thinking of something other than keeping my eyes turned upward... and as I walk in, directly in front of me was this woman disrobing - ok, more specifically removing her panties - and she wasnt doing it in the standard sort of off of one leg, off of the other leg while sitting down kind of modest fashion. She had her back turned to me, she grabbed her panties by the elastic waistband with both hands, and slid them down both legs simultaneously to her ankles...

with her hands on the elastic waistline the whole time...

essentially touching her toes...

back turned to me...

NOW...allow me to preface this by saying I'm all for this kind of display...in the privacy of my own bedroom ;) I'M ALL FOR IT (in fact I'm thinking of taking applications for bedroom display models haha) But this was wrong. And it wasn't just because she was a coworker...

It was because she was 70 years old....

I almost had to leave the gym. Right then and there. Was that close to turning around and walking out and going home and never coming back. I am still so scarred that I might wear blinders into the locker room from now on.

Just because its a locker room and its *ok* to get all naked and parade around other women (I suppose), what the fuck ever happened to modesty???? Christ. Double Christ.

I got more but lunch time is nearly over. And that last rant nearly made me revisit that lunch (mmmm macaroni and cheeeeeese)....

toodles

Short Girl's Disease

Yep. I've got short girl's disease. Now I know how it is for guys when they feel *inadequate* around other guys...

So there's this girl who works in my gym. She's a personal trainer, I hear she plays - played ?- basketball. Let me tell you about this girl. She is top to bottom, side to side, built like a motherfucking brick SHIT HOUSE. I mean, the first time I saw her last month, I was looking at her from behind and I'm like holy DAMN is that a guy or a girl?? She's that built. I mean...damn. Damn. Like the body of my dreams.

And she really intimidates me. And maybe she does it on purpose I dunno...lol... In any case, she's got me beat heightwise by 6 inches easy (not hard to do)...and 30 to 40 pounds too...and thats ALL muscle... and I swear she would not only beat my ass if given the opportunity, she would kill me stone cold dead before I had time to run away (which, btw is exactly what I would do if I found out she was angry with me...haha).

Now for the short girl's disease. This girl works in my gym, like I said. And every time she's there when I get there...something goes wrong in my head. My wires cross. I can no longer complete a *standard workout* .... noooo... it has to be super-omega-gamma-kicking-my-ass-making-me-ill workout. I'm doing cardio like my ass is on fire. Lifting, when she is around, is always a heavy day - even if it was a light day rotation - cuz I'd die before I'd let her see me curling measly little 15 pound dumbbells. Gotta do 20s... I'm literally killing myself when she's around... why? short girls disease... yeah, she's bigger than me, but I gotta prove to her that I can keep up with her anyway. Even though she probably never even notices or cares... lol... like I said, something goes wrong with the wiring in my head...

Just thought I'd share that story. Maybe its best that I'm not the buffest girl in the gym... haha... keeps me motivated at any rate...

hmm...strange...

Anyway, so they banned a bunch of shit on carry on bags on airlines today. Now you know I have a bad history with airline security. I absolutely cannot stand the *rent a GED* losers they have operating our *security* system. Nothing like being yelled at, hit (yep hit), having your shit rudely confiscated, etc etc, by some big fat attitude-laden bitch who cant even SPELL security...

So now, because of this new and twisted little terrorist plot, we can no longer bring bottles of liquid or gel onto planes. You know what I think? I think Al Queda sits around on Saturday nights, getting drunk in a cave somewhere in Afghanistan, thinking of retarded shit to do to us. I envision this:

Mohammad Mohammad Achmed: "Hey Osama, what can we do to fuck with the American infidel now?"

Osama: "I have a good one! Lets pretend we have a plot to blow up planes...using hair gel and ipods!!! We can spread the word that we intend to take down 10 planes that way, and see what happens!!"

Mohammad Mohammad Achmed: "*hic* hahahah Osama, that is rich!!! I can see it now! All the American Infidels having to rid their bags of hair gel and ipods before they can get on the plane!!! hahah!!!"

Osama: "Oh what chaos we will bring!!! The American Infidels won't know how to act without their Dippity Doo!! "

Mohammad Mohammad Achmed: "Lets do it! Lets do it! I double dog dare you!!! AYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYYAYYAYAY"

*sigh*

Our world is fucking retarded.