Thursday, March 2

Bolt Gun Politics.

Image hosting by Photobucket

Most people aren't smart. We all know that. If you don't know that, then you're not smart.

Smart, smart, smart-ity smart-smart. Smarty, smarty smattie-smittie. Shimma-shamma whoppa-doo.

The following news story comes to us from Lexington, Kentucky:

A Letcher County woman suffered a horrible injury early Thursday when her arm was severed in a car crash on the Mountain Parkway in Clark County.

Jacqueline Dotson and her six-year-old daughter had to be cut out of their vehicle after the accident in which Dotson veered into the median and over-corrected, rolling her truck over the guardrail and landing upside down after flipping several times.

Several people stopped to help, and it turns out, the good samaritans may very well have saved Dotson's life. Sheila Vice, a nurse's aide, and an off-duty EMT from another county stopped to help, and put a tourniquet on Dotson's arm to stop the bleeding. Her arm was found near the accident still clutching a cell phone.

Both were flown to hospitals, and Dotson is listed in serious condition. Her daughter is not in the hospital, and sheriff's officials say they believe she's going to be fine.

Wow, Karma works. The innocent daughter is 100% fine, and the woman on the cell phone loses her fat, stupid American dialing arm. Hey, one more truck flip, and this could have been a Darwin Award. I know it's a bit harsh, but if something like this causes even one person to stop using cell phones while driving, then it's totally worth it...for me.

That's my moment of Zen for the day. What's yours? Sound off in the comments section, and wax poetic about the shallow end of the gene pool. Lost Friday returns tomorrow to cleanse you of your sins, and boy is it worth the wait.

But wait, there's more!

CDP poster Jessica is currently displaying an ad she's working on that bears a striking resemblence to yours truly. If you blow the photo up, the illusion sort of fades, so don't.

Comments:
Yeah, cell phones are pretty much the worst invention ever.

In college we were having a BBBQ over at a friends house, and he had to leave to go to the store to grab some stuff before we arrived. He left a note on the front door letting us know that the back door was unlocked. (He's actually a way smarter person than me, I just thought it was funny)
 
Was it a BYOBB BBBQ?

I've known people like that. They leave a note on the door that says, "They key's under the mat." Then I laugh to myself and rob them blind, as I actually don't know them, and are passing through the neighborhood looking for houses to rob.

When I was younger, I was attending the Tommy Bartlett "Ski, Sky & Stage Show" at Wisconsin Dells, and my Mom gave me a $20 bill with which to buy another box of popcorn. As I reached the trash can, my brain malfunctioned and I threw the $20 away instead of the empty popcorn box.

This was a huge, industrial-sized recepticle, mind you, so I had to dip myself in head-first to retrieve it. I couldn't reach it amongst the fumes and grabage juice, so I had to have two groundscrew staff help me fish it out.

It was the best tasting popcorn ever.
 
Yes, you did do that. The hell I have had to go through with you.
 
Strange thing is, I don't even like popcorn.

The Missus can attest to this, but I believe Tommy Bartlett to be one of the single most despicable people who has ever walked the earth. I don't need to explain why; I have my reasons.
 
Tommy Bartlett has gotten so commercial. He's forgotten it's about the skiing.

Tommy Bartlett, more like Tommy Bartless.

(I know that doesn't make any sense, but that's what I'd say to him if I met him, and I bet it'd make him feel real bad.)
 
He's dead, so fortunately you won't have to be placed in that awkward situation.

At least I think he's dead. Might just be wishful thinking, but I could swear he was like, 90 years old in 1986.

If he were alive, that would put him at 119 at the youngest, which means that I should have no problem mopping the floor with him.

Forget it, he's dead.
 
I can't believe I just insulted a dead guy. It was a mistake... I was talking about President Bartlett on West Wing.
 
Yeah, sorry about that. I shouldn't have got you involved in my petty squabbles.

If you feel like confessing anything, I can let you into the armory so you can talk to Henry.

Man, I can't wait for Lost Friday, and I'm writing the damn thing.
 
Yeah. You're full of yourself like that sometimes.
 
People on cell phones don't bother me as much as the yahoos that try to teach themselves how to use the Self-Checkout at the grocery store for the first time when there's a huge line. Seriously...if you can't figure out how to scan a barcode without getting all flummoxed and bewildered, it's time to take yourself out Old Yeller-style.
 
Henry Gale, more like Henry Frail.
 
Whenever I get cut off in traffic or someone does something stupid, you can usually bet they're on the phone. Tests have proven that driving while talking on the phone is just as bad an impairment as driving drunk or without sleep. Cut it 'oot!

If you can't scan a barcode, then you're not even smart enough to work a checkout line, let alone navigate through one. Please go home and stop buying things, please and thank you.

Self-Checkout? More like....Jerk....Knockout.



Dang.
 
See, it's fun.

Cell phones? More like smell bones.
 
Let's eat paste? More like...um... Let's meet paste.

Zing!
 
Hey, that really hurts.

More like... That frilly shirts.
 
That frilly shirts?

More like... That really hurts.




Wait, what are we doing again?
 
Oh man, those self check outs are a blessing and a curse. I love them because instead of having a totally oblivious gum smacking cashier ignore me. I get to have a MACHINE do it! Machines are cool like that. With the more advanced self check outs you can actually hear a smack smack when's break smack smack
And then you happen to get stuck behind the person who just stepped out of the bomb shelter. They look at the thing like it's their own personal demon put on earth to torture them. You can tell you're in trouble when they put their hands on their hips and shake their head like they just got asked a really hard question. What that question is varies with different people, I'm guessing for these guys it's: Do you want fries with that?


I know up in Maine and North Dakota they were close to passing legislation for an open season on cell phone drivers. It failed to pass because they realized they did not have the staff to man all the check in stations required. There was also a caliber issue.
 
I feel a little out of sorts, because I've actually never used one of those Jerk Knockout things. Really though, anything that keeps me from conversing with a 16-year old boy is right in my wheelhouse.

That bomb shelter comment rung true. I always happen to be behind the person who hasn't purchased a thing since 1957.

"A pack of gum is 35 cents? Since when?"

(Throws cats in the general direction of cashier.)
 
Man... I always walk into the room after the fun game is over. Then I have to ask, "What's everyone laughing at?" and then, like, four people try to tell me at the same time and it isn't funny, and someone ends the whole story by saying, "It was really funny" because it's not cool to say "Guess you had to be there" anymore. Except I can just read the comment section.

OH, speaking of stupid people, and the word "except", we passed a Sonic the other day with the words "Now Excepting Applications" on the sign. We figured that the way they knew you were overqualified was if you caught the error on the sign.
 
"Um, excuse me sir, you have a grammatical error on your sign."

(Sirens go off, lights flash and balloons drop from the sky.)

"Congratulations! You're the new assistant manager!"
 

Post a Comment

<< Home