The Rant

Alrighty, I'm bored at work. So, it's time to quote a wonderful rant from Grampa Phil (he's not really my grampa, but he sure can talk like one!):

"Ya know, it's too bad I can't blog while riding my bike to work in the morning. That's when the rants are just buzzin' around in my head. A lot of them, naturally, involve traffic and shitty drivers. Others involve the dingbats I see walking around B-town as if the sidewalks were runways at some Parisian fashion show (ladies, for the love of God, get over yourselves--same goes for all you wannabe thug guys). The low-slung belts, the platform flip-flops, the I'm-a-70s-porn-star sunglasses, the et cetera ad nauseum bullshit look-at-my-tits-but-don't shirts is for the circus. Please go back to your suburban wasteland and don't come back until you realize that fashion is a distraction (and a means of keeping you second-class and objectified) foisted on you by America's consumer-oriented, capitalist culture that serves no other purpose than to keep you from thinking about real issues (like the fact you're being played) and instead worrying about what a bunch of dimwit "rock stars" and Hollywood nimrods are wearing, eating, drinking, and screwing.

And don't think that I don't have an opinion on all those folk out there who yell at me for coasting through a stop sign on my bike when there's no one friggin' around--especially when they do the same damn thing...in their 2000 pound cars. I especially love it when nabobs berate me for not riding on the sidewalk (which is against the law in Indiana, by the way) only to have this lobster-colored old man give me the look of death every friggin' morning when I cut across Dunn Meadow's sidewalks on my bike. I mean, hell, at least I'm on a bike while others park along 7th Street with the engine running because they have no AC in their houses and, as such, feel compelled to burn gas and merely sit in a parked car for no other reason than to get a little bit of AC. I mean, come on!

And how about those semi trailers that've been parked next to the IU Auditorium for the past 8 years. What's up with that? And the trash that gets picked up by city workers every friggin' morning in People's Park because a bunch of meth-snorting, teenage low-lifes think they're being rebellious by throwing their corporate fast food containers and cups on the ground. Hey, dumbasses, try being a real rebel and quit buying McDonalds and Burger King, quit expressing your rebelliousness through accessories and try doing something constructive to bring down the system. Or how about this one: wake up and realize that no one is ever going to take a filthy druggie who sleeps in the park and lives off handouts seriously and that your revolution is utterly bogus. I mean, you're not fooling anyone, and your lifestyle isn't exemplary of romantic rebelliousness. It's a horseshit fantasy.

I mean, I'm sick of it and sick of being surrounded by baffoons. Sure, I'm a foul-mouthed misanthrope, but at least I support myself, at least I don't feel justified in being a burden on society, in trashing the environment for a few creature comforts, in making myself feel better by yelling at a bicyclist from a car because I'd never in my life have the balls to say the same sort of shit to said bicyclist's face if I ran into him walking down the sidewalk."

Wow Phil, you make my life worth living.

In other news, I have an Anatomy lab exam tomorrow. On Friday I have my Anatomy lecture exam, then meetings. On Saturday I have work all day, then packing up the house. Then I move to Hillcrest on Sunday, and RHA fun time starts on Sunday night. Let the good times roll.