NEWS FLASH! Guess what people of America with a legal and up to date driving license; it is in the legal rights for a person to turn right on a red light. I'm just throwing that out there. I thought for sure people needed to know this when they took their written exam to obtain a drivers license. Who knows, maybe they didn't pay attention during that chapter for whatever reason, maybe they can't read.

I think I'm going to market little stickies that morons can buy that will stick to their dashboard saying and I quote, "Unless you're getting some serious road head, you can turn right on red." That way when they are sitting at a red light, texting, checking make up, eating fries, picking their nose, scratching their sack, having a conversation with Paul Harvey on the radio, making sure your NY hat is crooked enough to look tight, popping black heads, smelling your own brand, laughing to yourself about trim you just "Hit and Quit," or whatever people are doing that obstructs me from getting to point A to point B, they can look down, sound out the words, smack the palm of their hand on their forehead and say, "Dammit, I can turn right on red." Then with a smile, they can realize they just learned something today.

Hey, I'm all for bettering the world and if I can help someone a little more retarded than me then I can feel better about myself. Class dismissed.

Dear lovely ladies,

Some people write about themselves, some people write about worldly observations. I would say I'm a little in between. One observation that this guy (2 thumbs) has observed for roughly 6 months or so is this obsession for girls to not smile for pictures anymore. Oh no, heaven forbid somebody smiling for the camera and looking at least halfway hot is totally not cool, hip, or poppin' fresh anymore. Instead, they choose to do this weird half kissing half pouty looking face. On top of that they put a little title above their picture that says, "Mwwah!"

I work close to a Subway here at my occupation and sometimes on occasion I eat a Subway for lunch. I'm a people watcher. I love watching people and how they go about situations but before I get into that I think there should be some guidelines at Subway. There needs to be a rule that you can't order all the food for your fucking office. I would sometimes be nice and ask my co-workers if they needed anything from Subway before I went and pray they would say no. There isn't anything worse than thinking you're the next person in line to soon realize the lady in front of you (and it's always a lady too, usually on the heavy side) whips out a laundry list of orders for co-workers. I mean I would rather each person who ordered be standing in line in front of me so I get a full grasp of how long I was going to have to wait.

It's like a complete sack punch when they pull out that list. OK, moving on. As if that isn't annoying in itself you have the person when asked what vegetables they want on their sandwich. This is where I watch people and have to wonder what is going on in their head. Some people look like they've never seen a vegetable in their life. It's like they grew up on the brown diet consisting of everything they ever ate was fried, in a bag or out of a box. I swear that they're asking themselves about each vegetable, "Do I like tomatoes?"

"Yes, I think I do but do I like them on a turkey sandwich...Hmmmmm?"

"Do I like lettuce? Hmmmm? How about pickles?"

Life really isn't that fucking hard people. I really don't want to get started on cheese but I guess since I brought it up. Do you think it's really going to fuck up your day if you pick the wrong cheese? I know there are like six choices but is it really that big of deal. I think the sun will rise tomorrow if you choose the generic American cheese. I personally can't even taste the cheese so I seriously doubt most people can.

Finally, when it's time to pay and you've already made half of downtown St. Joseph wait for you to fulfill all your co-workers orders, don't say I need to have separate receipts for each. This is about when my thermometer's mercury just broke the glass. Everybody says they love how there is so much freedom and choice in this nation we live in but in this case, we might have too much. Subway just wants to be more American than America, I guess. You on the other hand, won't even choose American cheese...Commi bastard.

The grossest thing I've ever seen in my short 29 years happened back in college. I went to a small university in Maryville, Missouri that had very minimal places to work. I tried for over 2-3 years to find a job that was flexible enough to support my school and party lifestyle. Unfortunately, this limited my options to almost one. That "one" happens to be what many people know as "The Evil Empire." That's right. I got sucked into the blue abyss and wore a stupid blue vest that had the words "How May I Help You?" screen printed on the back. More often than not when I got cornered to helping somebody you could take the words written on that vest rearrange them and put the words "Fuck" and "You" and tattoo it on my forehead. My mother has always said that I wear my emotions on my face. I'm terrible at poker.


I worked in electronics. Which wasn't too bad considering that I worked with two of my roommates and a couple of other pretty cool guys that also got sucked in like a penny under your seat on "Clean My Car" weekend, or if your my girlfriend, your yearly car cleaning. After coming in on a Saturday morning at 7....that's right...7 am, you can imagine how I felt. Look, I was in college. Working at Walmart meant working until 9-930 pm during the week, having a little meeting to discuss how much we all suck for working at Walmart and getting dismissed. Dismissal might as well have been a starter gun going off and seeing the mad dash of 20 somethings rushing down to the beer aisle and picking up a 12 pack of Nattie Light. 5 dollars and 87 cents meant a night of drinking and not remembering things so that was the drink of choice. We worked at Walmart for crying out loud! People who bought anything other than Natty Light took the risk of getting their beer ambushed after they had a few and getting pissed about it but if they took a couple of your Natty's who cares. But I digress.
Friday nights you got drunk even though you knew you had to be at work Saturday morning at 7. Saturday mornings basically was spent trying to look like you were working instead of actually working. In fact, people actually hid or would take approximately 4-5 breaks that equaled somewhere around the 2 hour marker through out the day. So after putting my weekly 7-4 shift on a shitty Saturday, I walk into the back and take off that vest, throw it in my 12 x 12 inch locker and walk out. Just as I'm ready to walk through those sliding doors of freedom it hits me like a sack punch from a pissed off mule. Imagine if you will a 75 year old, white haired, wrinkly skin, severely obese woman, wearing a green thin dress that looked like it had the texture of 80 grit sandpaper. In her hands were her dentures and she was eating the food that was stuck in between her false teeth. Actually, just typing this image is making me gag. I remember take a double and triple take and either I was still numb from the previous nights Natty or just didn't realize what I was looking at until I passed her. But just thinking about her eating the leftover corn on the cob that she ate for lunch and now enjoying it again makes me want to throw all over this keyboard.
So there you go people. I shared with you the grossest thing I've ever witnessed. Feel free to comment on the grossest thing you've ever witnessed. This is my first blog of hopefully many. I'm inspired by my little sis, who is the best writer I've ever known. You can check her work out at http://dualori.blogspot.com.