Ladies, can we use our big girl voices?

Alright, I got to throw this one out and see if anyone can feel me. The other day, I was sitting in the living room, on the computer (shocking) and my wife had a cooking show on. It's always amusing to me how much she loves cooking shows, because she absolutely does not cook. She would boil a Pop tart, and thus, is not even allowed in the kitchen. So, I'm working and listening to the show. I hear this incredibly annoying voice that just drones on and on, and will not stop. It sounds like an eight year old girl, with a cough drop in her mouth. Not just in her mouth, but teetering at the back of her throat, as though she wants to hold it there, but not quite swallow it. I finally look up to see what this pixie looks like, and it is (big surprise) a two-fifty plus, thirty something girl of Asian ancestry, wearing pig tails. I listened some more, now sickened by the reality of the situation, and realized that this voice I was hearing was one that I hear quite often.

I don't know what it is called, if it has a name. It should be identified, like a virus, and destroyed. I don't know what makes a woman in her twenties, thirties, and even beyond, want to TRY to sound like a little girl. I know they know they are "doing it". They are told by people on the phone to "put their Mommy on please" and are delighted to hear it. I think that it can maybe be sexy, in the bedroom and such, but not in the boardroom. And I hate to even get started on the whole "up speak" phenomenon. If you don't know, that's the label fixed to the strange way of speaking that the kids are using today, in which every statement sounds like a question? Stacy and I went to the mall today, and like, saw these two boys? And they were like, trying to talk to us and stuff? And we were like, shut up? I trip out when I am listening to the news on the radio, and they cut away to some expert on a subject, or a field journalist in Baghdad. I'm expecting to hear some serious shit, then she opens her mouth and out pops Cindy Brady. Or Betty Boop. I have seen actresses who speak this way ( Joey Lauren Adams, the Lawyer girlfriend in Big Daddy/w.Adam Sandler) and it drives me nuts. And not in the good way. If men did it, we would be laughed at, and it surely would NOT get us a job at Hooters. Now go spit out that damn cough drop, and start using your big girl voice.

Aim High!

Around my house, my older daughter and I have an understanding about her education. She is very bright, and figured out early to ignore the constant stream of TV advertisements for what we call (I call) "fake ass colleges". Every time we see them come on, we just laugh and laugh. I have taught her to recognise them by the heavy use of words like "career" or "technical" in their names. They always have some abbreviated name like ICT, TCT, PCP, or some shit like that. The "C" is always for career. These alleged schools, we say, are almost colleges. You will earn a degree, almost. You will have a rewarding career, almost. The truth is, you will earn a certificate. You will become someone who went to a real school's assistant. Now, don't start getting ready to fire back at me in my comment area, the last thing I need is a bunch of dental hygienist pissed at me. I'm just saying. If you are currently "enrolled" in one of these schools, you are probably being ripped off. Most of them will sell you a certificate (remember, not degree) that you do NOT need to get the job you are shooting for. Colleges, and employers do not recognise these courses as true credits, and if you read the small print on the advertisement, it even tells you this. I saw one the other day for I.T.T. that said at the bottom, "transfer of course credits not likely". Not likely. Now that's funny. I'm not calling anyone who has fell for this an idiot. Hell, I once went to one. I remember telling a potential employer that I was enrolled their, and him and the other management all laughing. They told me that If I got the job, they would train me and give me their own certificate, I didn't need to spend a year or two and waste a Pell grant to get one. These schools go after people who have no real plan, and a lot of dropouts. They try to make you feel like your family will be proud, and you will restore your dignity by completing the course. They show clips of a graduation scene, with everyone in gowns and shit. I hate them, but I love them? We get a big kick out of the new "Construction Management Degree Program" they are selling these days. Now that, my friends, is comedy. They show some poor minority woman (picture enclosed) holding plans and wearing a hard hat, like she's running the show. She's like, "Get to work Mofo, don't make me pull out my certificate on your ass!" And there all standing there, going along with it. God bless her. My point, if I have one, is this. Know that it wont be enough to get where you want to go. If you want to be a dentist, don't stop at hygienist. If you want to be a nurse or doctor, don't stop at medical assistant. Want to be lawyer, don't work for a paralegal certificate. Get that school under your belt, and get that God damn job. If you want to run a construction site or crew, don't even bother going to school. Get a job doing construction, be the one person on the site NOT smoking weed, and pay attention. It wont take long. Sometimes, just having a valid license or knowing Spanish will push you to the top of that heap. That's not a joke, that's the truth.

Im Calling Them Out

That's it. I don't want to be told about how or why I need to save anything, anymore. I don't want to hear about energy. Or trees. Or whales. I am sick of being told one thing, and sold another. It seems to me that, every thing I'm asked to conserve, I'm God damn tripping over. I drive past a car or truck dealership, and the vehicles for sale have gotten so big that the trucks look like tractor trailers. The cars all have shit loads of horse power, and the speedometers go to 160. They are getting 16 miles to the gallon, while I'm being told to save fossil fuels, and get a hybrid. I got filthy hippies telling me that I need to help save the whales. Get yourself a marine radio, and tune in to the chatter during the day. Every ten minutes, some asshole is calling in a whale floating around, in danger of being hit by a ship or boat. And don't get me started (again) on the Manatee. I work in one tiny spot near the water. Every day, I see a Manatee. Every day. The damn things are just now being considered for removal from the endangered list. It would be like you walking around in your office, and all day long, you kept hitting your head on giant Redwood trees. After about the 300th tree you hit, you would want to smack anyone who told you to give a shit about them. And speaking of trees, here we go. How am I to be told that I need to go out and plant trees every year, when the entire cleaning product industry has decided that you can clean a whole house with a paper towel? Every one of them have some shit ass commercial, depicting a kid spilling red liquid all over the damn house, and his oddly happy go lucky Mom cleaning it all up- with a God damn paper towel. They actually show them wringing it out in the sink, and going back to the scene of the crime to get some more shit up with that SAME paper towel. They got woman mopping the entire house's floors with a paper towel on a stick, sold under various stupid names. They clean the toilet with it, then sun dry it, fold it up nice, and put it in a hope chest to pass on to their daughter one day, when she has a hyper active ass kid of her own to follow around with the paper towel all day. I hate that shit. Get a damn rag. If I come to your house and catch you trying to reuse a paper towel, I'm leaving. If you catch me trying to do the same, go home and get the whole roll. You will need it to clean the kitchen after I blow my brains out.

Crack for Comfort?

"Yall got any hot chocolate!!!????" The crackheads voice rattled and shrilled like it was coming from a loud speaker wrapped in an old rusted mailbox. I don't know how they throw their voices so well, but you can hear a crackhead over a freight train, if they want you too. The cashier and customers of the local gas station /convenience store I was in all began laughing and looking at each other in disbelief. You see, I live in Florida. And at the moment in question, it was around 85 degrees with a hundred percent humidity. Miserable. The cracky was, as usual, freezing. Anyone who has lived, worked around, or just studied crackies in general knows that this is one of the boldest traits of a hard core crack cocaine habit. When its 35 degrees outside, and even the damn plants have been covered in case of a frost, you are very likely to see a crack head strutting around butt-ass naked. When its 102, and old folks are dropping from heat stroke, the cracky is looking for a ski-suit to put on. I have told you in the past of my considerable girth. Like most "big boys" I am very sensitive to heat. My wife will tell most folks that the thermostat is pretty well the only thing we ever fight about. I am ALWAYS hot, and she is ALWAYS cold. So, I have decided that America needs to stop looking for a cure for crack addiction. Stop entirely. And start trying to isolate and identify the causes of the crack heads amazing disregard for weather, and ability to control the temperature within his own body. Think of all the energy and marriages we could save with this technology! Create a pill that isolates and manipulates the crack heads secret weather control. Imagine- turn off your heat in the dead of winter, and just take two tablets of "Crack-Cozy". Hot enough to fry eggs on the sidewalk? Take two tabs of "Crack-Cool" and shut down that noisy-ass window unit. Its time to start looking for the good in this epidemic, and stop trying to make it seem so evil. We could all be asking for hot chocolate while standing in line behind three guys buying Gatoraid. We just have to open our minds. I got to go, I'm hot as hell.

Hooking for Candy

Went out with the girls today, out shopping for school project crap, and Halloween decorations. We went into a couple of places that were selling costumes, for kids and adults, among all the other skulls, bats, and whatnot. I got a problem I want to throw out on the table. I saw two little girls looking at a costume that, like most of the ones for adult woman, looked like a hooker get-up. One told the other "we cant wear that" as the lesser disciplined of the two gave her a sharp "whatever", and they walked away. The next isle over displayed all of what is allegedly acceptable for the young pair. Here's the problem; the costumes for the girls were mostly the same as the hooker wear, only smaller. I covertly pulled out the old camera phone, and took the two pictures you see here. Sorry for the low res. I noticed that, for example, the Police Officer costume for boys looked like a tiny cop, down to the gun. But for girls, the "police officers" uniform included a slutty short skirt, with a pair of fish net prosti-stockings. The same followed for the "school girl" scenario. Now, I don't know a man that isn't turned on by the school girl outfit, and that's my point. A little girl should not be dressed this way, with the fucking fish nets, and turned out on the street to go door to door for candy. I wont rave on about this, because once I get started, we could be here all night. But God damn it, that shit should be taken to the counter of those stores, and explanation should be demanded.

Where are all the Cops and detectives that are supposed to be looking for this type of thing? According to the media, they spend all day on the Internet pretending to be "Tabitha, the 13 year old soccer player who likes boy bands and chatting online". What the hell is up with that? I'm sure they spend lots of time "researching" these characters they create, and even pop in these chat rooms at home, when they are off, late at night, to try and bring down a scumbag. This operation has been reported to be working, though I don't know how. I never met a Cop who fit in in a God damn parking lot, much less a chat room for young girls. Seems to me that, the ones who are the best at luring the pedo into a trap, know the most about the ways of a young girl. And to be the best at it, may mean he is spending too much time studying the role. This was pointed out to me by a friend who has a sort of second site for these things. I suppose the problem is that, even I knew I should have taken that costume up to the counter, and demanded an explanation. And instead, I kept quite, and came home to write about it -like a bitch.