Random Ranting


My regular lunch buddy decided to get hypnotized today instead of eating lunch with me. I tried to tell her that a good burger can be hypnotic and more of a value for her dollar. I am beginning to think that a house in need of attention is less of a money pit then an attention seeking psyche. Can a person have psychiatric hypochondria? I think I could be neurotic so I must be neurotic.

I am all for medicating away problems but… what if your shrink has his or her own diagnosis? How many psych diagnosis can one person have before it lands them in a padded room? If one pill makes you smaller and one pill makes you large, should you go ask Alice or are you over medicated? If you can’t sleep, do you drink too many sodas today or do you have insomnia? If you snore is it allergies or sleep apnea? If you start projects and can’t finish them, do you need to reprioritize or are you hyperactive? If bad news makes you sad for a while, are you sensitive or clinically depressed? If your doctor wants a new boat does that make you in crises and in need of three day a week therapy? Or does it mean that it is time to stop making excuses and get your own shit together? What if you can’t? what if the shit has hit the fan?

I set out in the rain again and went to Wendy’s. Why can’t McDonalds take plastic? If a second world burger place can manage it why can’t the Burger Superpower get it together? I should have known when I walked in the door and collided with a line that I should have gone for pizza. The last time there was line in there was when a hurricane coming through and everything else that sold food was closed.

The place was full of children. Preteenage Children. All talking at the tops of their very high pitched voices. Is the concept of using your inside voice inside lost? Why are eighth graders not in school studying earth science , forgetting their locker combinations or picking gum out of their braces. And why are they taking a field trip to a fast food restaurant?

This Wendy’s has an additional dining room right off the main dining room. The brats could have easily been directed to fill that room so as to not take seats away from the people who all ready have breasts; Instead they pulled most of the tables together so they could recreate the school cafeteria at Wendy’s! Oh Goodie! How like very!

I was in a room full prepeople who think American Idol is high art and that Sweet Valley High is literature and that the WB is relevant.8th Graders!

And I had wanted to eat lunch.

I finally got through the line and went to the alternative dinning room to eat in relative tweenfree peace. They followed me. They decided that some French fries were like female French fries you know, and that some were like male French fries, you know?

They paraded around the restaurant to show each other their, like male and female fries, you know?. The squealed about their fries. They squealed about squealing about the fries. The squealed about squealing about squealing. Not once did any of the parents along on this magical mystery tour tell any of the braying brats to take their seats and shut the hell up. Not Once.

Wendy’s added to my pleasure by translating “Plain and Dry” to “Cover in drippy salad fixings and orangey sauce”. Ick. If I had wanted a salad I would have ordered a salad. If I had wanted a salad with orangey sauce I would have ordered one. I ordered a hamburger. I got a drippy burger and braying children.

I don’t think it was done Dave’s Way.