Sometimes I have this incredible urge to bust into a Dennis Miller diatribe. For example, I hate telemarketers. I really can’t say anything about them that more talented people haven’t already said. However, the most diabolical telemarketer on the face of the earth is the sucking police department. What? That f’ing parking ticket you gave me last week isn’t enough to pay for your pension? You don’t get enough glee out of making citizens sweat in person with your one way sunglasses and mag-light in the face intimidation tactics? Now you have to harass me at home? Get bent!

I got a phone call today from one of these fraternal organizations. It went a little something like this: Good morning Mr. Stoddard. My name is (such and such) and I represent the national fraternal order of rat fink storm troopers. The average contribution in your neighborhood to our organization is $35. How much can I put you down for?

At this point all kinds of things are going through my mind. The main thought is “Bite my shiny white ass, oinkster”. What I actually do is very politely hang up the phone and rip the cord out of the wall. Now I have to live with the fear that my address or license plate was put into some Orwellian data base. Guess I’m gonna get pulled over tomorrow.

Another thing that pisses me off are those ubiquitous bumper stickers you see all over the place. “Troopers are your best protection” Are they really? Best protection against what? Venereal Disease? The IRS? The next time one of these sub-human, G. I. Joe wannabes stop you in the dead of night cause your license plate was partially obstructed; well, you can ask him just how exactly he is protecting you and against what.

Next, and this really doesn’t piss me off (just annoying), are those stupid personal ads you always see on web sites like Salon or Slate. You know the ones. The goofy, close up face shot of 20 something angst ridden youngsters. Underneath the face is always a fill in the blank question like: In my room you’ll find…or: If I could be anywhere in the world it would be…

Ok, fine. These are good questions to ask of a potential lover. They serve to unite people by searching for common interests, I suppose. It’s the answers that get to me. In my room you will find: A pile of wet blankets that reach the ceiling and empty pizza box furniture.

Yeah, that’s gonna get you laid buddy. Good luck.

Ok, ok. /Rant off. I spent about an hour at the bookstore today and picked up some good pulp. The Mezzanine by Nicholson Baker and Snow White by Donald Barthelme. These are books Eric has pointed out to me from time to time during our frequent trips to the bookstore. I figured it was about time to pick them up. They are relativity short novels and shouldn’t take long to read.

Oh! It snowed today and I got the day off from work. From what I understand, Eric got the day off too. Of course, he is sick. I’ll send him some virtual Chicken Soup.