Perpetually Peeved

You’re kidding me, right?

I don’t usually pay much mind to the Golden Globe nominations, but earlier today someone posted a prediction poll. Out of curiosity, I checked it out. Of all the movies nominated, I had seen three. Inception, Despicable Me, and… Burlesque. Yes, Burlesque. Here’s something to vote on: what is worse? A) the fact that I saw Burlesque in the theater, or B) the fact that the Golden Globes nominated it without even the excuse of an adamant sister and the bribe of a few beers?

Grease? Yes. Chicago? Yes. Moulin Rouge? Hell yes. Burlesque? Bob Fosse just sashayed in his grave.

Tonight, having been ousted from my room by a Care Bear Movie infatuated four-year-old and booted off the computer by a boy infatuated twelve-year-old, I decided to indulge in a little guilty pleasure: House Hunters International. Don’t judge. At least I don’t yell at the TV like my mom does when the idiots pick the wrong house. Besides, it could be worse… last night it was Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Oy vey! Anywho… I’m minding my own business and out of nowhere – BAM! – exactly how low we as Americans have stooped slaps me in the face. Vanilla Ice has his own show. No, wait. Vanilla Ice has his own home improvement show. Bob Villa just turned over in his grave.

What? He’s not dead yet? Did you hear that? (dun dun dun dun na na na…) That’s him putting the finishing touches on his custom coffin and getting the table saw ready.

Lord help us all.

And the loser is…

Here is what is wrong with our society. Driving in to work this morning, they had a contest on the radio.  In order to win the contest, you had to guess the answer to the following question: 

According to recent poll, besides food & money, what’s the #1 item you’d like a lifetime supply of? 

Hmm... Books? Well, no, because you basically get that at the library. Although, I do loathe to return them (as is evidenced by my $30 overdue balance).

I know, I know!!! SHOES!!!! Yes, please. Third wish on the genie lamp for me... unlimited shoes!

 No?  What else do I need in life besides good books, money, food, and shoes?  I’m stumped!  Okay, let me think what the average person would say…

I got it! Gas. As much as we'd like to hold out hope, I don't anticipate those corn cars going into production anytime soon. And, while we're at it, can I get a little full-service as well?

Not it?  Okay, I guess I’m being too practical.  Let me think more on the level of the average American.  Ah, yes, that’s my problem – I’m not being materialistic enough!

Fancy clothes?


Enough sports cars to make Jay Leno drool? And enough accompanying vanity plates to make John Mayer cry?


...electronic pets? Toys?

No?  Hmm…  well, maybe I’m underestimating people.  What else is not a food, not money, but you would want an unlimited supply of?

BINGO! Skymiles...

... Embassy Suites rewards points?

... Unlimited admission tickets to aquariums, museums, parks and zoos throughout the world?

No?  Okee Dokee, not interested in traveling or learning about nature, other cultures or history. 

I give up.  Please, just tell me.  WHAT would Americans want a limitless supply of besides food and money?

A: Cable TV service! 

Yes, folks.  This is the problem with our society.  Forget A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, these people are only interested in A Potato Grows on the Couch. 

Which, is probably why they sell these at Toys R Us.

Egads, even the Pepto is pink!

The other night, I was taking Smalls into Toys -R -Us to get another Department of Torture Electronic Mini-Operative Zhu Zhu Pet.  Yes, I know they drive me insane, but what drives me more insane is the whining Smalls was doing before I bribed her to stop with another Zhu Zhu Pet.  So, off to the toy store because somehow a child who can “forget” she needs to throw her dirty clothes in the hamper within two seconds of mommy telling her to, can remember an arbitrary promise/bribe that was made weeks ago.

After stopping to pick up some flip flops, a SpongeBob lollipop and a lightsaber, I decided to just ask an associate where the little electric rodents were located.

Me: Excuse me, Sir. Where are the Zhu Zhu Pets? (Because I’m running out of hands and I’m gonna be flat broke by the time I get past the checkout if you leave me to my own devices.)

ToyGuy: They are right over here.  Wait, do you want the girl ones or the boy ones?

Me: No, they’re just hamsters.  I mean, they’re not made for boys or girls.

ToyGuy: The regular ones and the babies are in the girl section, the ones in the boy section are like ninjas and stunt hamsters.

Really? The toy company obviously never met Smalls.  Because, let me tell you, she has a mean drop-kick!



This whole gender segregation is totally out of hand.  If you look at a sales ad for Toys – R – Us, everything associated with “domesticity” is being modeled by girls.  Babies, Barbies, animals, kitchens…  You will never see a boy modeling a kitchen – a grill, maybe, but not a kitchen.  You will also never see a boy with a babydoll.  Just like you will never see a girl playing with a car or a dinosaur.  Even Legos, which should be unisex and universal have segregated the toys to market pink house and horse sets to girls and blue house and helicopter (?) sets to boys.

LEGO® Pink Brick Box (5585) - LEGO® bricks in beautiful colors! Build a house, a pony, or anything else you can imagine with this special box filled with LEGO bricks in colors you love and elements like fences, windows, doors and flowers!

Following the included instructions and using pieces in the starter kit, kids can build a house, helicopter, dog, and car.

This gender segregation continues even as we get older.  Mother’s Day rolls around and what are the ads for?  With the exception of jewelry, most of the wares they are pushing consist of things for the house.  Get Mom a photo apron or a set of coasters.  Buy her a new vacuum, a photo frame, a coffee mug or a cookbook.  And, what to get Dad this year for Father’s Day?  Hmm… grilling tools, a brew-your-own beer kit, fishing gear, golf clubs, power tools…   Actually, they do make power tools for Mom too…  and golf clubs…  and fishing gear…

Just search for “XYZ for women” – I’ll bet you a beer (YES, WOMEN DRINK BEER), it will come up pink.  It’s enough to make a girl nauseated.

Happy Father’s Day to all of you Dad’s out there.  Hope you get a hand painted masterpiece or a nice picture of you with your kids (the kind of stuff you should be getting on this occasion).  Although, I may just get this for my hubby… what do you think?

What? I can’t hear you – I have a drill bit in my ear

What’s worse than someone drilling into your ears with a Mikita?  Someone NOT drilling into your ears with a Mikita and subjecting you to the musical selections of a pre-teen girl.  Please, put me out of my misery.  It’s like someone came up with a checklist:

Repeat the same verse over and over and over and over and over – CHECK!  AleAlejandro AleAlejandro… tonight’s gonna be a good night, tonight’s gonna be a good night… baby baby baby oohhh it’s like baby baby baby oohhh. (Everyone knows that children don’t listen to you unless you repeat yourself over and over and over and over.)

Misspell Words – CHECK! T, to the A, to the S-T-E-Y, girl you tasty… (Hey, who cares if you made it past second grade, they’re singing YOUR song.)

Make Up Words – CHECK! Flossy, flossy (Can’t spell?  There’s a simple fix.  Make up your own words and no one can tell you you’re spelling them wrong.)

Get children to sing about inappropriate adult situations they should know nothing about – CHECK! Shorty is an eenie, meenie, minie moe lover… can’t read my, can’t read my, no you can’t read my poker face… London, London bridge is falling down… (The more nursery rhymes you can fit in, the better.  Everyone should pick their lovers the same way they pick their candy.  It’s important to have a good poker face when lying to your parents.  You mean she’s not talking about the bridge in London?  What is she talking about… oh… oh… what??)

Rhyme words that do not end with the same sound – CHECK! Sometimes I feel like I live in Grand Central Station, tonight I’m not takin’ no calls ’cause I’ll be dancin’… (If you pretend like you’re foreign or have a lisp, it is so much easier to rhyme. Oh, and a double negative always works if you need some extra syllables.)

Say your name in the song so they don’t forget who you are – CHECK! Jason Derulo!…  Ga Ga!… (In case they can’t read the posters, t-shirts, screensavers and myriad overpriced marketing materials they begged their parents for, you should say your name in the lyrics – maybe even more than once, they tend not to listen the first time.)

Some GENIUS (and I am, for once, not being sarcastic when I use this word), came out with this:  It will erase Justin Beiber from the web for you.  Um, does that come in Fergie and Lady Ga Ga?

Please, help… don’t forget your drill!

Welcome to Starsucks – I mean, Starbucks

I realize that Starbucks is a mecca for douchebags.  That is probably why I find myself inexplicably drawn there on a regular basis.  That, and the fact that they not-so-secretly put in 2x the caffeine of any normal coffee beverage.  Ah, if only I could open a business where I could make the customers physically dependent and actually addicted to my product…  I’ll have to think on that some more later.

I know what you’re thinking –  you know where this peeve is headed… $5 coffees, yada, yada.  No, you’re wrong.  It doesn’t matter these days where you go, a regular old cup of Joe is going to be completely overpriced at $.25 an ounce.  Me pissed off at the corporate-ness of it all?  No, wrong again.  Remember, I’m a PC-free personality.  If you have it and I want it, I don’t really care who had to die/work in a sweatshop/leave their family in another country to make it.

What really pisses me off about Starbucks is the fact that they can’t make a GD coffee lid that does not leak steaming hot coffee all over the place.  I mean, come on people, we have sent astronauts to the moon, have built supsension bridges longer than 5,000 feet and can fit a computer in the palm of our hands.  Surely, there is an engineer out there somewhere that can devise a lid that you don’t have to place at exactly the right angle to prevent your latte from dripping in your lap.  It’s not freaking rocket science!

Another thing — and, I warn you this is pettier than the last — how hard is it to leave me room for cream?  Why, why, why, do I have to constantly dump a half inch of my coffee into the trash?  Surely you don’t want to clean that up.  Even worse is when you ASK me if I want room for cream and still manage to fill it all the way up to the brim.  What the hell did you ask me for then?  This here will throw me into a fit of absolute rage.

If you’re going to make me pay exorbanant amounts of money and force me to order my cup size in some bullshit, brainwashed, corporate-speak, then the least you can do is make my damn coffee right (it’s not like I’m even asking you to put the cream in – heaven forbid).  Maybe, as an added bonus, you could make sure it doesn’t drip down the back of my hand and onto my clothes.  Starbucks, my ass, more like Starsucks.  If I wasn’t so addicted, I would tell you stick a non-fat, no-whip, mocha, venti, chai latte up your… what? Mermaid tail?  Oh, Christ.

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