Okay, so I have to get this off my chest. Let me start with this: Donald Sterling is an idiot. He is also, probably, a racist. I assume we all agree on that. If you don't know what I am talking about, A - take your head out from the sand you buried it in, B - you are a moron. So, go with this assumption.
But before we all tell the world that Donald Sterling is the anti-Christ, let's stop and think about our own behavior. I have written about this before. But let me re-state my position since some idiot like Sterling comes along and people stop thinking about racism properly.
If you are an African-American, and you use the "n" word, then you really can't complain when other people use that word. Why? Because you have implicitly stated it is okay to use it. Don't go with "It is a term of endearment when I talk to my buddies." It isn't. It is a racist term. You may not think you are a racist, but if you are using the N word, you are promoting racist. You see, racism can't go on if good people stand up and say enough is enough.
And I could substitute "African-American" and "n word" for a variety of groups. Jews and the "k word." Mexican and the "w word." (Think about it people.) Puerto Ricans and the "s word." How many more examples do you need? These words have meaning and those meanings are evil.
Then I turn on ESPN Radio. I am listening to the Dan LeBatard show. He has some co-host, some side kick, some idiot, Stugotz on his show. I don't know Stugotz from Stu-pid-asshole. But this guy says he has a different take on the Donald Sterling issue. So he then proceeds to say that all Jewish women are crazy.
How the hell is this different from any of the other racist, anti-semitic, misogynistic comments that people make? You see, the problem here is that when you paint with a broad brush, you are, by definition, being a bigot.
All soccer players are wusses. All football players are dumb jocks. All cheerleaders are easy. All sports talk hosts are failures at sports. All tv people are stuck up. All side kicks on radio shows are idiots. None of these are true. But you can make those statements - and sound like a douchebag.
But, worse than that, you can do it with race, religion, national origin and sexual orientation. "All blacks are dumb." NO! They aren't. But you could say it. "All Jews are cheap." Really? "All mormons are cultists." Sure, if you are an idiot. "All gays are pushing the 'gay agenda.'" (What the fuck is a gay agenda?) Every single one of them? All Africans are unsophisticated. Not true. All Americans are lazy. Except the person saying it, of course.
Look, Dan Le Batard should know better. Stugotz, who claims to be Jewish, really should know better. I don't care if you are a Jewish guy and talking about Jewish people. If you use your national platform to talk negatively about a group, any group, even a group to which you belong, you should be canned. You are only encouraging those morons who believe what you said. So, now the anti-semitic folks are going to say "See, all Jews are crazy. Some Jewish dude said it on ESPN Radio." You have used your platform not for good, but for evil. You are a moron.
When are we going to stop?
Monday, April 28, 2014
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Idiots
So today on Facebook, my status was:
Dear Lawyers:
1. I don't care where the hell you went to college.
2. I don't care where the hell you went to law school.
3. I don't care how old you were when you graduated college.
4. I don't care how old you were when you gradated law school.
5. You do NOT have a doctorate. You are not a doctor. Never have been. Never will be.
6. If you are so pompous that you think I need to know 1 through 4 or you plaster your website with 5, you and I will have a problem.
Why would this be my status? Because I was in a bad mood. Let me give you my rules for dealing with people:
A. I don't trust you if you go by your middle name. You are starting out our relationship, be it personal or professional, by hiding something. Primarily, you are hiding your first name. I don't know why you are hiding it. I don't care why you are hiding it. I just know that you are hiding it. Remember that dumb saying that you don't get a second chance to make a first impression? Well, that is true when you go by your middle name. Its like giving me the middle finger!
B. If you have to tell me how smart you are, then you are not that smart. I told this story to someone today. I didn't know that my dad had his PhD until I was 12. I didn't have a clue as to how smart he was until I was 15 or 16. I didn't really know how smart he was until I was in my 20s. Why? Because he never had to prove to anyone how smart he was. He was just smart. If you think you have to prove to me that you are smart, then you aren't really that smart. Easy enough?
C. If you have to tell me how old you were when you made some major life accomplishment, you are a douchebag. I don't care if you were 10 when you graduated high school. I don't care if you were Dr. Sheldon Cooper. I don't care if Doogie Howser was based on you. Not only do I not care, no one else cares. If you think you need to tell people, then you are a douchebag. Plain and simple. Hence, "Dear Douchebag: We don't care how old you were when you were potty trained. Sincerely, Civilization."
D. If you tell me how old you were when you graduated from college, you have a small dick. Seriously. Yes, I said it. No one cares. That would be the worst pick up line ever. "Hey baby, I graduated college at 15. Wanna have sex?" Worst. Ever. Seriously. It doesn't matter if you were 15, 25, 35, or 95. No one cares. I have to think about how old I was when I graduated college. And law school. Why? Because I don't care how old I was. Life isn't about what you do at a certain age. It is about what you do to make the world a better place.
E. If you have a law degree, you are not a doctor. End of story. Don't even argue it. I am not Dr. Jones. You are an attorney. You are a lawyer. You are a person. You are not a doctor. Don't refer to yourself that way. If you must refer to yourself that way, then you need to call your local plastic surgeon because someone pulled a Lorena Bobbitt on you. (Look it up, youngsters!) Seriously. We are not doctors. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.
F. If you have fallen into more than one of these categories, you need a life. Not a "are you breathing?" life, but a real, honest to goodness, fucking life. Get out of the house. Make some friends. Stop driving your Bentley or your Rolls or your whatever. Go out to dinner with some friends. Join Match.com. Get laid. Do something with your life. Because you clearly think the world revolves around you. It does not. Trust me. It never has. It never will.
Look, this is simple. Just be a decent person. Fuck up once in a while. It is okay. But don't brag about yourself. Don't think anyone else cares. Don't try to be a superhero. Just be yourself. And if you look in the mirror and you can't be yourself, then realize you are an idiot. People see through fake. Sure, it may work for a year or 10 years, but at the end of this, you end up as a loser.
Am I clear?
Dear Lawyers:
1. I don't care where the hell you went to college.
2. I don't care where the hell you went to law school.
3. I don't care how old you were when you graduated college.
4. I don't care how old you were when you gradated law school.
5. You do NOT have a doctorate. You are not a doctor. Never have been. Never will be.
6. If you are so pompous that you think I need to know 1 through 4 or you plaster your website with 5, you and I will have a problem.
Why would this be my status? Because I was in a bad mood. Let me give you my rules for dealing with people:
A. I don't trust you if you go by your middle name. You are starting out our relationship, be it personal or professional, by hiding something. Primarily, you are hiding your first name. I don't know why you are hiding it. I don't care why you are hiding it. I just know that you are hiding it. Remember that dumb saying that you don't get a second chance to make a first impression? Well, that is true when you go by your middle name. Its like giving me the middle finger!
B. If you have to tell me how smart you are, then you are not that smart. I told this story to someone today. I didn't know that my dad had his PhD until I was 12. I didn't have a clue as to how smart he was until I was 15 or 16. I didn't really know how smart he was until I was in my 20s. Why? Because he never had to prove to anyone how smart he was. He was just smart. If you think you have to prove to me that you are smart, then you aren't really that smart. Easy enough?
C. If you have to tell me how old you were when you made some major life accomplishment, you are a douchebag. I don't care if you were 10 when you graduated high school. I don't care if you were Dr. Sheldon Cooper. I don't care if Doogie Howser was based on you. Not only do I not care, no one else cares. If you think you need to tell people, then you are a douchebag. Plain and simple. Hence, "Dear Douchebag: We don't care how old you were when you were potty trained. Sincerely, Civilization."
D. If you tell me how old you were when you graduated from college, you have a small dick. Seriously. Yes, I said it. No one cares. That would be the worst pick up line ever. "Hey baby, I graduated college at 15. Wanna have sex?" Worst. Ever. Seriously. It doesn't matter if you were 15, 25, 35, or 95. No one cares. I have to think about how old I was when I graduated college. And law school. Why? Because I don't care how old I was. Life isn't about what you do at a certain age. It is about what you do to make the world a better place.
E. If you have a law degree, you are not a doctor. End of story. Don't even argue it. I am not Dr. Jones. You are an attorney. You are a lawyer. You are a person. You are not a doctor. Don't refer to yourself that way. If you must refer to yourself that way, then you need to call your local plastic surgeon because someone pulled a Lorena Bobbitt on you. (Look it up, youngsters!) Seriously. We are not doctors. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.
F. If you have fallen into more than one of these categories, you need a life. Not a "are you breathing?" life, but a real, honest to goodness, fucking life. Get out of the house. Make some friends. Stop driving your Bentley or your Rolls or your whatever. Go out to dinner with some friends. Join Match.com. Get laid. Do something with your life. Because you clearly think the world revolves around you. It does not. Trust me. It never has. It never will.
Look, this is simple. Just be a decent person. Fuck up once in a while. It is okay. But don't brag about yourself. Don't think anyone else cares. Don't try to be a superhero. Just be yourself. And if you look in the mirror and you can't be yourself, then realize you are an idiot. People see through fake. Sure, it may work for a year or 10 years, but at the end of this, you end up as a loser.
Am I clear?
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Dear Starbucks........
Dear Starbucks:
You are kidding, right? Today was just a bad dream. It was a nightmare, right? I didn't have the experience I just had, right? Tell me it wasn't so.
You see, some people tell me I am a bit rigid. I have my routines. One of my routines is waking up on a Sunday morning, taking the kids to Noahs and then stopping at Starbucks at 19th and J Street in downtown Sacramento. They know me. They know my drinks. They are friendly. There is a group of regulars. We talk. We eat. We laugh. We watch the people walking on the sidewalks.
This morning, I get up. I start my drive downtown. I get to J St. There is some race. Maybe its a half marathon. Maybe its a 5k. I don't know what it is. People are dressed in green and running. So the streets are closed. I tried three times to get around the race, but wherever I turned there were little green people running. Fine. I give up. The green people win.
But wait...........just when I start to lose hope, I remember. There is a Starbucks at 15th and Broadway. I can sing one of my favorite songs...........It starts like this "Me and Kid Sensation and that home away from home/In the Black Benz Limo, with the cellular phone....." Hey, its a Starbucks. There are three that I go to that are simply spectacular (not just used to describe one of Jerry's girlfriends). The rest are good. Its a chain. I have certain expectations. Yeah, about those expectations..........
So we walk in to this Starbucks. It turns out it is store 5963. I didn't know that at the time.......Anyway, I walk in. There are two kids in front of us in line. The nice girl takes my order. It isn't rocket science. An organic vanilla milk box. Two kids cocoas. A plain bagel. A pumpkin loaf. A coffee cake. An egg and cheese sandwich. A venti iced mocha, decaf, non fat, no whip. It is not rocket science people.
So we get the milk. Heck, we took the box of milk. Its in the cooler. Easy. Done. We get the pumpkin loaf. Bam. Two for two. Then it appears that those little green people must have invaded Starbucks. Because it was all downhill from there.
Two cocoas come out a few minutes later. Fine. It took a bit long and it shouldn't be rocket science. Then we get my coffee. Okay, so we are 5 for 5. The wait is a bit much for a store that isn't busy. But I can deal with it so far. Then there is a bagel. It is the wrong bagel, but fine. 5 for 6 is a B, I guess. Sadly, it went from 5 for 6 to 5 for 8. Why?
That coffee cake? Yeah, it didn't come. Apparently, it is hard to take the coffee cake out of the case and put it in a bag. The egg and cheese sandwich? I think they were waiting for the hens to lay the eggs. I ask the barista who is closest to me if he can check into it. He tells me that the food is backed up so it should be another minute. Maybe another hour was what he meant.
A few more minutes. Still no food, but we got the bagel. So I get back in line with my 10 year old. A woman asks if we need anything. I explain I need the sandwich and the coffee cake. She will get right on it. Good. What can it take? 2 minutes? Maybe 3? WRONG!
I go back up and ask to speak to a manager. I thought this was going to be a good thing. WRONG! I guess I was 0 for 2. The manager is the woman who told me that she would get right on the food. I still think she is waiting for the cheese to separate from the curd. A male employee, I think his name was Michael, is also there. Apparently, he wanted to show the manager he was an alpha male. Yeah, newsflash dude: you aren't.
Now, from what I know about business, if a customer wants to speak to a manager, a manager comes to the customer. There should not be a gap of 10 feet between the manager and the customer. (Okay, exception if there is a threat of violence.) This manager apparently has a 10 foot personal space need since that is the closest she got to me.
I need her to hear me. I need her to understand how frustrated I am. So I ask where the food is. She told me it was in line. WHOA! My food should have been cooked well before now. She says she thought I wanted the coffee cake heated up. WHAT? Hot coffee cake? That sounds as good as hot ice cream. No thanks. At this point Michael decides he is smarter than me. He tells me not to yell. Mind you, if you have ever heard me yell, you know that Michael wouldn't have been able to tell me not to yell as his ear drums would have been ruptured. When I yell, restaurants stop. Just ask anyone who has been on the receiving end of that.
I tell him I am not yelling. He gets in my face. Now, at this point, I thought the manager would step forward and tell him to go take a break. WRONG! Yes, I am 0 for 3. She doesn't. I continue to express my frustration. He continues to tell me to calm down. Yeah, calm? On a Sunday morning? I am calm. Dufus then tells me that its just Sunday morning. Great, its Sunday morning. And I have things to do. I then ask the manager if all of her employees talk to customers this way. No response.
They ended up refunding me for the milk, the bagel, the coffee cake (that I never got!), the cocoa and the pumpkin loaf. My coffee and my egg sandwich, that I never got, were not refunded to me.
So, lets see: I had to pay about $8.00 to get service so bad it makes the Embassy Suites Anaheim South look good. (read: http://www.tripadvisor.com/ShowUserReviews-g32420-d224310-r152254596-Embassy_Suites_Anaheim_South-Garden_Grove_California.html#CHECK_RATES_CONT) Yes, it cost me money to get service this bad.
I am going to write to Starbucks. I hope they do something. If I ran a business and found out one of my stores treated someone this badly, I would be embarrassed. I admit it - I am a Starbucks junkie. I have had a gold card for years. I know several managers. All are great people. But this - this was a freaking nightmare.
You are kidding, right? Today was just a bad dream. It was a nightmare, right? I didn't have the experience I just had, right? Tell me it wasn't so.
You see, some people tell me I am a bit rigid. I have my routines. One of my routines is waking up on a Sunday morning, taking the kids to Noahs and then stopping at Starbucks at 19th and J Street in downtown Sacramento. They know me. They know my drinks. They are friendly. There is a group of regulars. We talk. We eat. We laugh. We watch the people walking on the sidewalks.
This morning, I get up. I start my drive downtown. I get to J St. There is some race. Maybe its a half marathon. Maybe its a 5k. I don't know what it is. People are dressed in green and running. So the streets are closed. I tried three times to get around the race, but wherever I turned there were little green people running. Fine. I give up. The green people win.
But wait...........just when I start to lose hope, I remember. There is a Starbucks at 15th and Broadway. I can sing one of my favorite songs...........It starts like this "Me and Kid Sensation and that home away from home/In the Black Benz Limo, with the cellular phone....." Hey, its a Starbucks. There are three that I go to that are simply spectacular (not just used to describe one of Jerry's girlfriends). The rest are good. Its a chain. I have certain expectations. Yeah, about those expectations..........
So we walk in to this Starbucks. It turns out it is store 5963. I didn't know that at the time.......Anyway, I walk in. There are two kids in front of us in line. The nice girl takes my order. It isn't rocket science. An organic vanilla milk box. Two kids cocoas. A plain bagel. A pumpkin loaf. A coffee cake. An egg and cheese sandwich. A venti iced mocha, decaf, non fat, no whip. It is not rocket science people.
So we get the milk. Heck, we took the box of milk. Its in the cooler. Easy. Done. We get the pumpkin loaf. Bam. Two for two. Then it appears that those little green people must have invaded Starbucks. Because it was all downhill from there.
Two cocoas come out a few minutes later. Fine. It took a bit long and it shouldn't be rocket science. Then we get my coffee. Okay, so we are 5 for 5. The wait is a bit much for a store that isn't busy. But I can deal with it so far. Then there is a bagel. It is the wrong bagel, but fine. 5 for 6 is a B, I guess. Sadly, it went from 5 for 6 to 5 for 8. Why?
That coffee cake? Yeah, it didn't come. Apparently, it is hard to take the coffee cake out of the case and put it in a bag. The egg and cheese sandwich? I think they were waiting for the hens to lay the eggs. I ask the barista who is closest to me if he can check into it. He tells me that the food is backed up so it should be another minute. Maybe another hour was what he meant.
A few more minutes. Still no food, but we got the bagel. So I get back in line with my 10 year old. A woman asks if we need anything. I explain I need the sandwich and the coffee cake. She will get right on it. Good. What can it take? 2 minutes? Maybe 3? WRONG!
I go back up and ask to speak to a manager. I thought this was going to be a good thing. WRONG! I guess I was 0 for 2. The manager is the woman who told me that she would get right on the food. I still think she is waiting for the cheese to separate from the curd. A male employee, I think his name was Michael, is also there. Apparently, he wanted to show the manager he was an alpha male. Yeah, newsflash dude: you aren't.
Now, from what I know about business, if a customer wants to speak to a manager, a manager comes to the customer. There should not be a gap of 10 feet between the manager and the customer. (Okay, exception if there is a threat of violence.) This manager apparently has a 10 foot personal space need since that is the closest she got to me.
I need her to hear me. I need her to understand how frustrated I am. So I ask where the food is. She told me it was in line. WHOA! My food should have been cooked well before now. She says she thought I wanted the coffee cake heated up. WHAT? Hot coffee cake? That sounds as good as hot ice cream. No thanks. At this point Michael decides he is smarter than me. He tells me not to yell. Mind you, if you have ever heard me yell, you know that Michael wouldn't have been able to tell me not to yell as his ear drums would have been ruptured. When I yell, restaurants stop. Just ask anyone who has been on the receiving end of that.
I tell him I am not yelling. He gets in my face. Now, at this point, I thought the manager would step forward and tell him to go take a break. WRONG! Yes, I am 0 for 3. She doesn't. I continue to express my frustration. He continues to tell me to calm down. Yeah, calm? On a Sunday morning? I am calm. Dufus then tells me that its just Sunday morning. Great, its Sunday morning. And I have things to do. I then ask the manager if all of her employees talk to customers this way. No response.
They ended up refunding me for the milk, the bagel, the coffee cake (that I never got!), the cocoa and the pumpkin loaf. My coffee and my egg sandwich, that I never got, were not refunded to me.
So, lets see: I had to pay about $8.00 to get service so bad it makes the Embassy Suites Anaheim South look good. (read: http://www.tripadvisor.com/ShowUserReviews-g32420-d224310-r152254596-Embassy_Suites_Anaheim_South-Garden_Grove_California.html#CHECK_RATES_CONT) Yes, it cost me money to get service this bad.
I am going to write to Starbucks. I hope they do something. If I ran a business and found out one of my stores treated someone this badly, I would be embarrassed. I admit it - I am a Starbucks junkie. I have had a gold card for years. I know several managers. All are great people. But this - this was a freaking nightmare.
Thursday, March 6, 2014
A week from hell
I am in a bad mood. It has been a week. A very, very long week. Where do I start? Wait, I know, people have it worse than me. Sick kids. Dying parents. I get it. So this is not a "oh pity me" post. I am fortunate enough to have this blog to vent. So now I vent.
Lets see............dear douchebags who stole my credit cards - twice: you suck. Really? Is it that cool to spend someone else's money? Do you think it is a good idea to use my credit card? Sure, I don't know who you are. But I am pretty sure you are not a short, white, bald dude. And I am pretty sure I bust my ass harder than you bust yours. So you are stealing. Just so we are clear. It is theft. You are a thief. You are a no good piece of crap. I hope you end up living under a gutter.
Okay, the rest of it isn't that bad. At least, I don't think. A flat tire. New tires on the car. People who don't listen..........oh, and debt collectors.
I did get some good lines in.
Lets see. If you are a debt collector and you are attempting to collect a debt from overseas, do not be surprised when I tell you that my left testicle is smarter than you. Yes, when you tell me that the law does not apply to you and that you will do whatever you want to do, I may explain to you how my left testicle is smarter than you. What? You don't like that. Well, guess what? I don't like douchebags. I guess we are even.
But, that wasn't even the best. There is a debt collector who shall remain nameless (FS Mediation aka FS Legal or FS Law). These folks are in NY or OH or Toronto. Or some other Gawd-awful place. They are some of the most idiotic people you have met. Seriously. Find the dumbest dude you know. Then think that he is 10 times smarter than these folks.
So, yesterday, this Patty Callahan dude told my client he was the President. Then he told me he was a paralegal to some 90 year old attorney who practices family law. I asked for his address. He didn't know it. Yes, dude told me that he doesn't know his address. I may have told him that he is an idiot. May have. Not sure.
Today, I spoke with some other guy who told me he couldn't give me a fax number. I asked him "Does your mom know you are a scam artist? Is she proud of you for being a scam artist?" For some reason, he didn't find that funny. But dude is running a scam. No fax? No email? No address? Yes, we call that a scam. And he was offended. Can you believe that?
You want offensive? This is offensive: you take advantage of the elderly, single moms, women, people with disabilities. At some point, I will track you down. I will find you. I always do. Until then, please understand that my left big toe is smarter than you. And if you think I am wrong, you can kiss my white ass.
Lets see............dear douchebags who stole my credit cards - twice: you suck. Really? Is it that cool to spend someone else's money? Do you think it is a good idea to use my credit card? Sure, I don't know who you are. But I am pretty sure you are not a short, white, bald dude. And I am pretty sure I bust my ass harder than you bust yours. So you are stealing. Just so we are clear. It is theft. You are a thief. You are a no good piece of crap. I hope you end up living under a gutter.
Okay, the rest of it isn't that bad. At least, I don't think. A flat tire. New tires on the car. People who don't listen..........oh, and debt collectors.
I did get some good lines in.
Lets see. If you are a debt collector and you are attempting to collect a debt from overseas, do not be surprised when I tell you that my left testicle is smarter than you. Yes, when you tell me that the law does not apply to you and that you will do whatever you want to do, I may explain to you how my left testicle is smarter than you. What? You don't like that. Well, guess what? I don't like douchebags. I guess we are even.
But, that wasn't even the best. There is a debt collector who shall remain nameless (FS Mediation aka FS Legal or FS Law). These folks are in NY or OH or Toronto. Or some other Gawd-awful place. They are some of the most idiotic people you have met. Seriously. Find the dumbest dude you know. Then think that he is 10 times smarter than these folks.
So, yesterday, this Patty Callahan dude told my client he was the President. Then he told me he was a paralegal to some 90 year old attorney who practices family law. I asked for his address. He didn't know it. Yes, dude told me that he doesn't know his address. I may have told him that he is an idiot. May have. Not sure.
Today, I spoke with some other guy who told me he couldn't give me a fax number. I asked him "Does your mom know you are a scam artist? Is she proud of you for being a scam artist?" For some reason, he didn't find that funny. But dude is running a scam. No fax? No email? No address? Yes, we call that a scam. And he was offended. Can you believe that?
You want offensive? This is offensive: you take advantage of the elderly, single moms, women, people with disabilities. At some point, I will track you down. I will find you. I always do. Until then, please understand that my left big toe is smarter than you. And if you think I am wrong, you can kiss my white ass.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Idiots
People are idiots. Just simply fucking idiots. I don't get it. But they are.
I live in Elk Grove. Its a nice town. We have 160,000 people or so. We have some really nice places. We have some farmland. We have residential tracts. We have businesses. We have a lot. We also have some problems.
But let's be clear about something: Elk Grove is not a dump. It is not a zombie town. It is not a hole. It is not a lot of things.
If you don't like Elk Grove (and please feel free to insert the name of your town here since I am sure this applies to a lot of places), then you have three options:
1. Leave. Seriously. Pick your crap up and move. If you need help, call. I will help you. I will pack your shmatas (as my mom would have said) and drop them off in whatever hole you want to go live in. Maybe you want to move to Compton. Maybe you want to move to San Francisco. Maybe you want to just move to the middle of the Pacific Ocean. You can leave.
2. You can shut the fuck up. Yes, STFU as the kids would say. Shut up. If you don't like it, you can just mind your own fucking business and shut your fat mouth. There. Done. Problem solved. Then people like me don't have to listen to people like you. Ever. Again. That would make it so much nicer!
3. You can do something about it and try to make Elk Grove (or whatever town) a better place. Get out and volunteer. Join a neighborhood watch. Help out local kids. Do something, anything, to make your town a better place. If that is too much for you to do, then read 1 and 2 - leave or shut the fuck up. It is that simple.
You can either be part of the problem or part of the solution. If you want to be part of the problem, then leave. That is one less problem for me. It is one less whiner. It is one less jackass who apparently can't get the fuck out of bed to make the world a better place.
So are you an idiot or are you a difference maker?
I live in Elk Grove. Its a nice town. We have 160,000 people or so. We have some really nice places. We have some farmland. We have residential tracts. We have businesses. We have a lot. We also have some problems.
But let's be clear about something: Elk Grove is not a dump. It is not a zombie town. It is not a hole. It is not a lot of things.
If you don't like Elk Grove (and please feel free to insert the name of your town here since I am sure this applies to a lot of places), then you have three options:
1. Leave. Seriously. Pick your crap up and move. If you need help, call. I will help you. I will pack your shmatas (as my mom would have said) and drop them off in whatever hole you want to go live in. Maybe you want to move to Compton. Maybe you want to move to San Francisco. Maybe you want to just move to the middle of the Pacific Ocean. You can leave.
2. You can shut the fuck up. Yes, STFU as the kids would say. Shut up. If you don't like it, you can just mind your own fucking business and shut your fat mouth. There. Done. Problem solved. Then people like me don't have to listen to people like you. Ever. Again. That would make it so much nicer!
3. You can do something about it and try to make Elk Grove (or whatever town) a better place. Get out and volunteer. Join a neighborhood watch. Help out local kids. Do something, anything, to make your town a better place. If that is too much for you to do, then read 1 and 2 - leave or shut the fuck up. It is that simple.
You can either be part of the problem or part of the solution. If you want to be part of the problem, then leave. That is one less problem for me. It is one less whiner. It is one less jackass who apparently can't get the fuck out of bed to make the world a better place.
So are you an idiot or are you a difference maker?
Monday, January 27, 2014
I am not an asshole
I was called an asshole yesterday. Yeah, there are times I can be an asshole. I am an asshole to debt collectors. I have been an asshole at other times. Sometimes, I deserve to be called an asshole. But, yesterday, I was not an asshole.
Look, I run a business for a living. I charge people money. I don't apologize for that. Nor should I. A little story........... (And don't aww me or tell me how amazing I am. I am not amazing. I don't want to hear that crap. This is just to give you background.)
I graduated from college in 4 years. As it is now, it was a time when not a lot of people got out in 4 years. I took over 20 units my last semester to get out in 4 years. That included tutoring, an internship, and a job. We had a mortgage to pay, after all.
I got a job out of college. I worked hard at it. 3 years and 3 months after starting that job, I earned my CPCU. (Google it.) Back then, the CPCU was 10 essay exams. Essays. For hours. It also required 3 years of work experience. Do the math. It was tough.
Then, a year later, I started law school. 4 years. At night. While working full time. Kids came in years 2 and 4. 4 am feedings. Late nights after school. Very little sleep. It was stressful on me. It was more stressful on my wife. It was stressful on my kids. Do you know how many vacations I took while in law school? 1. 1 actual vacation.
I took the bar exam after graduation. Passed on my 1st try. I had surgery the next day. 2 months after the bar exam, my dad died. He never saw me get sworn in. It has been almost 11 years since I was sworn in. Do you know how many actual vacations I have taken in those 11 years? I mean a "let's not work and take time off for more than a weekend" type vacations. Wanna guess? 2.
3 vacations in 15 years. Sometimes, it sucks. I don't get a steady paycheck. I don't get vacation time. I don't get PTO. Benefits? Yeah, I pay full price for those. And you know what, I wouldn't change it.
Don't pity me. I don't pity me. I wouldn't change this. I haven't missed any of my kid's events. I have been there when they need me. Heck, I picked up my elementary school kid by walking to his school on Friday. Its the life I chose. I get it.
But I don't work for free. I have a wife to support. I have 4 kids to support. I have a mortgage to pay. I have bills to pay.
Yes, I take pro bono cases. But I make that decision, not you. If you ask for free help, my response is generally no. If you expect me to help you for free, my answer is fuck no.
So, imagine my surprise when a "friend" mails papers to my house with a note that she expects me to take care of her lawsuit. Yeah, I don't do that. Not to my business. No phone call. No request. No offer to pay. An envelope with a copy of a lawsuit and a note that told me to deal with it. My response: a letter to her telling her I don't represent her. This is what I would send to anyone who sends me unsolicited papers or assumes I will represent them without signing a fee agreement. It is fairly standard.
Yesterday, this "friend's" partner came up to me, in front of my 4 year old and other adults, and called me an asshole. This is wrong on so many levels.
First, who calls someone an asshole in front of other adults? You don't know those people. You don't know how I know these people. Maybe they are friends. Maybe they are clients. Maybe it is someone who is interviewing me. But now, suddenly, I have to explain why you called me an asshole. Thankfully, these folks ignored it, as most of us would do. But you don't do that to someone.
Second, who calls someone an asshole in front of that person's kids? My daughter is 4. You want to call me an asshole in front of her? I am pretty sure that makes you the asshole. Of course, I didn't say that back because, well, I don't curse in front of kids, especially 4 year olds. That is simply idiotic and moronic.
Third, this was at a temple. You are going to use profanity at a place of worship? Really? That doesn't seem very god like. I mean, you are in God's holy place and you think dropping a little profanity is the way to go. Who taught you this?
Fourth, why, exactly, am I an asshole? Because I won't represent you for free. Do you expect your doctor to treat you for free? Your dentist? Is your landlord supposed to give you a break too? When do you think you should pay for services?
Yes, I have asked a friend for a favor before. Hey, can you pull a title on this house? Hey, can you give a friend an insurance quote. But, a) I refer these people business and b) it usually is a precursor to paying them. Oh, and it never involves more than a few minutes and I sure as hell wouldn't ask a real estate friend to sell my house for free. Once an attorney gets involved in litigation, its not easy to get out.
Look, folks, attorneys are people too. We have families. We have bills. Just because you know us doesn't mean we are obligated to help you for free. If you want help, offer to pay us. Sure, we may say no. I know I have done that a few times. But at least fucking offer to pay me. Don't assume I will work for free. And sure as heck don't call me names when I won't.
This is how I support my family. It is not a crime. I should not be ashamed. I am not going to be embarrassed or bullied about it. I busted my ass. The reward is that I get to run my own business. If our friendship is built on you thinking you can get something for nothing from me, go fuck yourself. And don't talk to me again.
Look, I run a business for a living. I charge people money. I don't apologize for that. Nor should I. A little story........... (And don't aww me or tell me how amazing I am. I am not amazing. I don't want to hear that crap. This is just to give you background.)
I graduated from college in 4 years. As it is now, it was a time when not a lot of people got out in 4 years. I took over 20 units my last semester to get out in 4 years. That included tutoring, an internship, and a job. We had a mortgage to pay, after all.
I got a job out of college. I worked hard at it. 3 years and 3 months after starting that job, I earned my CPCU. (Google it.) Back then, the CPCU was 10 essay exams. Essays. For hours. It also required 3 years of work experience. Do the math. It was tough.
Then, a year later, I started law school. 4 years. At night. While working full time. Kids came in years 2 and 4. 4 am feedings. Late nights after school. Very little sleep. It was stressful on me. It was more stressful on my wife. It was stressful on my kids. Do you know how many vacations I took while in law school? 1. 1 actual vacation.
I took the bar exam after graduation. Passed on my 1st try. I had surgery the next day. 2 months after the bar exam, my dad died. He never saw me get sworn in. It has been almost 11 years since I was sworn in. Do you know how many actual vacations I have taken in those 11 years? I mean a "let's not work and take time off for more than a weekend" type vacations. Wanna guess? 2.
3 vacations in 15 years. Sometimes, it sucks. I don't get a steady paycheck. I don't get vacation time. I don't get PTO. Benefits? Yeah, I pay full price for those. And you know what, I wouldn't change it.
Don't pity me. I don't pity me. I wouldn't change this. I haven't missed any of my kid's events. I have been there when they need me. Heck, I picked up my elementary school kid by walking to his school on Friday. Its the life I chose. I get it.
But I don't work for free. I have a wife to support. I have 4 kids to support. I have a mortgage to pay. I have bills to pay.
Yes, I take pro bono cases. But I make that decision, not you. If you ask for free help, my response is generally no. If you expect me to help you for free, my answer is fuck no.
So, imagine my surprise when a "friend" mails papers to my house with a note that she expects me to take care of her lawsuit. Yeah, I don't do that. Not to my business. No phone call. No request. No offer to pay. An envelope with a copy of a lawsuit and a note that told me to deal with it. My response: a letter to her telling her I don't represent her. This is what I would send to anyone who sends me unsolicited papers or assumes I will represent them without signing a fee agreement. It is fairly standard.
Yesterday, this "friend's" partner came up to me, in front of my 4 year old and other adults, and called me an asshole. This is wrong on so many levels.
First, who calls someone an asshole in front of other adults? You don't know those people. You don't know how I know these people. Maybe they are friends. Maybe they are clients. Maybe it is someone who is interviewing me. But now, suddenly, I have to explain why you called me an asshole. Thankfully, these folks ignored it, as most of us would do. But you don't do that to someone.
Second, who calls someone an asshole in front of that person's kids? My daughter is 4. You want to call me an asshole in front of her? I am pretty sure that makes you the asshole. Of course, I didn't say that back because, well, I don't curse in front of kids, especially 4 year olds. That is simply idiotic and moronic.
Third, this was at a temple. You are going to use profanity at a place of worship? Really? That doesn't seem very god like. I mean, you are in God's holy place and you think dropping a little profanity is the way to go. Who taught you this?
Fourth, why, exactly, am I an asshole? Because I won't represent you for free. Do you expect your doctor to treat you for free? Your dentist? Is your landlord supposed to give you a break too? When do you think you should pay for services?
Yes, I have asked a friend for a favor before. Hey, can you pull a title on this house? Hey, can you give a friend an insurance quote. But, a) I refer these people business and b) it usually is a precursor to paying them. Oh, and it never involves more than a few minutes and I sure as hell wouldn't ask a real estate friend to sell my house for free. Once an attorney gets involved in litigation, its not easy to get out.
Look, folks, attorneys are people too. We have families. We have bills. Just because you know us doesn't mean we are obligated to help you for free. If you want help, offer to pay us. Sure, we may say no. I know I have done that a few times. But at least fucking offer to pay me. Don't assume I will work for free. And sure as heck don't call me names when I won't.
This is how I support my family. It is not a crime. I should not be ashamed. I am not going to be embarrassed or bullied about it. I busted my ass. The reward is that I get to run my own business. If our friendship is built on you thinking you can get something for nothing from me, go fuck yourself. And don't talk to me again.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
On manhood
Okay, so its not often I get involved in something that is current. Normally, I am ripping on idiots or making fun of some schmuck at the store. Sometimes, I make fun of some current "star" like when I mocked Michael Phelps' pot use or rap like Pitbull. (Dude still needs a new name. He is a freaking moron and can't sing! I am sure my raps are better than his!!) But, today, I need to weigh in on something that is bothering me. Men!
Did you know a study came out a few months ago about men? Yep. Some fool studied how much sex men get who do "women's chores." You don't believe me? Read it here: http://thelibertarianrepublic.com/study-men-womens-chores-get-less-sex/ Seriously, this was a real study. Some morons paid these people to study what kind of man gets more sex. How this affects the world or makes the world a better place, I have no idea. But the conclusion is that we need socialized gender roles, apparently.
Then my wife told me about some story she read on Huffington Post. I looked it up. Dude is "Daddy Doin' Work." Here is his website: http://daddydoinwork.com/ I don't know him, but there is some good stuff there. You should read it. Now. Go read it. Then come back here.
He was apparently attacked for a picture of him doing his daughter's hair with a baby in a baby carrier. Let me be clear on this: FUCK THAT! (No, not him. The people who attacked him. Maybe that wasn't clear enough.)
You know what I think of all of this? Its nonsense. Its all garbage. Its not worth the paper it was written on. (Or the typing spent writing this crap.) Let me give you my thoughts.
What did you do this weekend? Beats the hell out of me. What did I do this weekend? I baked a pie. I cleaned the house. I watched the kids. I coached wrestling. I played soccer. I took my kids to breakfast. I went shopping at Target. I hung out with my daughter.
I just don't get it. Why do we need to have these ridiculous rules? We didn't have them when I was growing up.We didn't have anyone tell us we had to be real men and women had to be real women.
I was a little kid when I heard stories of my mom's dad. He was a "man." He was tough. He ate horse. Seriously. My grandfather ate horse. He was a boxer. He was a tough guy. In his 80s, I am sure he could still have kicked the crap out of me. He always looked like a boxer. He owned a laundromat. He sold Disney vacations or something like that. But he was a man. No one would have ever questioned that my grandfather was a man's man.
Then there was my dad. I found out my dad was a bad ass when he was growing up. He would kick the crap out of people. There was always a good reason. Usually, those reasons had to do with my uncle getting in trouble and my dad having to fix it. He also was a chemist and a very good businessman. Smartest guy I ever knew. He would mow the lawn and take care of his family. My dad was a man's man as well.
Then, in the early 2000s, suddenly a man was something different. We had that Queer Eye for the Straight Guy show. Suddenly a real man was someone who shaved his whole body. Yeah, lets just be clear. I never shaved my whole body. Ever. Nope. But a man also had to be able to cook and clean. He had to groom daily. He had to have some "soft side." It was all the rage to be a metrosexual. I still don't know what that word means. But men were suddenly all metrosexual. At least, if you wanted to be "cool" you were a metrosexual. I guess I wasn't cool!
Now, we want to go back to men doing men things and women doing women things. What the hell does that mean? Am I supposed to tell my daughter she can't play with cars and trucks? Are my boys not allowed to learn to cook? I am so confused by all of this.
Here is what I know. A man takes care of his family. Maybe he works two jobs. I went to law school at night while working full time. Sucked. Yep. I was up at 4am to feed the baby (we had two), was in the office by 5, worked, came home so my wife could go to work, then left to go to school when she came home. Did I enjoy it? Nope. But it was necessary for my family.
Maybe a man makes sacrifices that we don't know about. I didn't know my dad overmedicated for his Parkinson's disease until he died. He wanted to provide for his family. So, understanding the risks, he took the medication necessary to work and provide for us. That was his choice. Right or wrong, in hindsight, makes no difference. A man will step up and do what is needed to take care of his family.
So here is what I tell all of these geniuses: fuck off. You guys are crazy. All of you. Men don't have to be tough guys, but we can be. I can still throw a punch to knock someone out. I can still wrestle. I can still play soccer. Sure, I am older, but I can still do it. I can run, I can do yard work, I can build something.
But, I can also cook. I can bake. I can clean. I can hold my daughter when she cries. I can throw on a suit and look better than you. Yep, its true.
I can do all of those things. I don't have to pick. Nor should I pick. I can go grab a beer with the guys and have discussions that I would never talk about. I can also take my wife to a nice dinner and wine and dine her. I can take her on a date.
If you think we have to pick, you are an idiot who has never had to be a real man. Real men do it all.
Did you know a study came out a few months ago about men? Yep. Some fool studied how much sex men get who do "women's chores." You don't believe me? Read it here: http://thelibertarianrepublic.com/study-men-womens-chores-get-less-sex/ Seriously, this was a real study. Some morons paid these people to study what kind of man gets more sex. How this affects the world or makes the world a better place, I have no idea. But the conclusion is that we need socialized gender roles, apparently.
Then my wife told me about some story she read on Huffington Post. I looked it up. Dude is "Daddy Doin' Work." Here is his website: http://daddydoinwork.com/ I don't know him, but there is some good stuff there. You should read it. Now. Go read it. Then come back here.
He was apparently attacked for a picture of him doing his daughter's hair with a baby in a baby carrier. Let me be clear on this: FUCK THAT! (No, not him. The people who attacked him. Maybe that wasn't clear enough.)
You know what I think of all of this? Its nonsense. Its all garbage. Its not worth the paper it was written on. (Or the typing spent writing this crap.) Let me give you my thoughts.
What did you do this weekend? Beats the hell out of me. What did I do this weekend? I baked a pie. I cleaned the house. I watched the kids. I coached wrestling. I played soccer. I took my kids to breakfast. I went shopping at Target. I hung out with my daughter.
I just don't get it. Why do we need to have these ridiculous rules? We didn't have them when I was growing up.We didn't have anyone tell us we had to be real men and women had to be real women.
I was a little kid when I heard stories of my mom's dad. He was a "man." He was tough. He ate horse. Seriously. My grandfather ate horse. He was a boxer. He was a tough guy. In his 80s, I am sure he could still have kicked the crap out of me. He always looked like a boxer. He owned a laundromat. He sold Disney vacations or something like that. But he was a man. No one would have ever questioned that my grandfather was a man's man.
Then there was my dad. I found out my dad was a bad ass when he was growing up. He would kick the crap out of people. There was always a good reason. Usually, those reasons had to do with my uncle getting in trouble and my dad having to fix it. He also was a chemist and a very good businessman. Smartest guy I ever knew. He would mow the lawn and take care of his family. My dad was a man's man as well.
Then, in the early 2000s, suddenly a man was something different. We had that Queer Eye for the Straight Guy show. Suddenly a real man was someone who shaved his whole body. Yeah, lets just be clear. I never shaved my whole body. Ever. Nope. But a man also had to be able to cook and clean. He had to groom daily. He had to have some "soft side." It was all the rage to be a metrosexual. I still don't know what that word means. But men were suddenly all metrosexual. At least, if you wanted to be "cool" you were a metrosexual. I guess I wasn't cool!
Now, we want to go back to men doing men things and women doing women things. What the hell does that mean? Am I supposed to tell my daughter she can't play with cars and trucks? Are my boys not allowed to learn to cook? I am so confused by all of this.
Here is what I know. A man takes care of his family. Maybe he works two jobs. I went to law school at night while working full time. Sucked. Yep. I was up at 4am to feed the baby (we had two), was in the office by 5, worked, came home so my wife could go to work, then left to go to school when she came home. Did I enjoy it? Nope. But it was necessary for my family.
Maybe a man makes sacrifices that we don't know about. I didn't know my dad overmedicated for his Parkinson's disease until he died. He wanted to provide for his family. So, understanding the risks, he took the medication necessary to work and provide for us. That was his choice. Right or wrong, in hindsight, makes no difference. A man will step up and do what is needed to take care of his family.
So here is what I tell all of these geniuses: fuck off. You guys are crazy. All of you. Men don't have to be tough guys, but we can be. I can still throw a punch to knock someone out. I can still wrestle. I can still play soccer. Sure, I am older, but I can still do it. I can run, I can do yard work, I can build something.
But, I can also cook. I can bake. I can clean. I can hold my daughter when she cries. I can throw on a suit and look better than you. Yep, its true.
I can do all of those things. I don't have to pick. Nor should I pick. I can go grab a beer with the guys and have discussions that I would never talk about. I can also take my wife to a nice dinner and wine and dine her. I can take her on a date.
If you think we have to pick, you are an idiot who has never had to be a real man. Real men do it all.
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