Archive for the ‘humor’ Category

>the CDM’s compassion for “Parking Lot D-Bags”,

This olelongrooffan submits this.


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>Parking E30 BMW’s, Continued

>Here is proof you don’t need a parking lot or a beach to be one of these.

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>In General, I Hate Muffin Tops

>Sorry CDM Followers, I am just an old man and get pissed off rarely. I turn 50 years old a week from Tuesday and, just like many old men, have little patience for a lot of people.

So, this pleasant, Chamber of Commerce kind of Sunday afternoon, I headed down the beach to my favorite Publix grocery store to stock up on feed supplies this old man needs every month or so. You know, soy sauce, black pepper, chips and, really, whatever else they have on sale.

The cool, at least I think anyway, thing about where I live is that the Taj Mahal is less than two blocks from an automobile friendly beach and I can drive from my condo to my grocery store on the beach.

Yeah, I really get a kick out of that.

So I arrive at my local shopping center that I enjoy hanging at and enter my grocery store.

As this is a fairly large, stock up, kind of visit, I grab on of those rarely used shopping carts and head on off.

Now, I am a single guy and, like most men, I don’t shop, I buy. So, I know where I am going.

As I head down the produce aisle I spot the following…..

A mid 20’s year old pony tailed, tank top, tattoo bearing redneck pushing a child carrying cart, you know, the ones with benches in them for young kids to ride in. Well this one was equipped with a mid 20’s year old girl holding a toddler on her lap.

Additionally, another mid 20’s girl with a HUGE tramp stamp was free loading a ride in that kid carrying area and that tattooed dude was struggling to provide acceleration to that buggy.

Further adding to my frustration, there was another, and part of that crowd, muffin top pushing a cart of her own alongside that oversized grocery cart.

So what did this olelongrooffan do?

I stopped, turned around, and started my, usually pleasant, Publix shopping experience on the other side of that Florida based retailer.

As it was, I was able to complete my excursion without running into them again.

Until I realized I had forgotten tortillas for my morning eggs and sausage breakfast wraps.

So, I head over to the “Ethnic” aisle and as I turn the corner, I see these two cart bearing tattooed rednecks moving down this aisle and basically blocking my passage of them in the aisle in front of me.

Oh, by the way, if you are on a four lane road and are going the same speed as the car to your right, You Are In The Wrong Lane.

But I digress.

Slowly, one of those carts moves in front of the other one and I slip between them to get my much desired tortillas.

As I slide between them, one of the tramp stamped muffin tops says, loud enough so this olelongrooffan can hear, “I can’t believe how rude people are down here.”

Now I have to say, I believe, these days, I am a polite ole man.

I always point out burned out brake lights.

I let people out in traffic.

I carry my 87 year old neighbor’s recycle bin out to the curb every Thursday.

I never park in his parking spot.

and cold pops are always in my frig for thejeepjunkie and TheGoodAttorney for their happy hour visits.

But this fat little bitch just pissed me off.

I had left my buggy behind them to slide through, get those tortillas and return to it to reverse direction and get out of their world.

So, as I was returning and fuming at her thinking I was rude, I mentioned in passing that she was the one blocking the aisle.

As she started to smart off some inane response, I turned to her and said….

“Hey muffintop, your grandchildren will love that tramp stamp across your ass.”

and I turned around and left.

Now while this is not the most mature method I could have handled this situation,

It sure felt good and I am still able to

Celebrate Life.

also posted at By The Numbers, although with some editing.

Thanks CDM.

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>Ya Know What Pisses Me Off?

>So, you are an oleunemployedconstructionworker trying to make ends meet and keep my 14 year old daughter in her unlimited Metro PCS cell phone and the latest fashions.

As a result, you will take pretty much any Manuel Labor job just to make ends meet.

Spent most of the day building a wall inside the kitchen of an “A” frame home down towards the lighthouse located city the publisher of this blog likes so much.

Well, after a couple trips to the big box retailer of home improvement supplies, I finally finished up this project.

As the olestationbus is getting a chemical high during its repaint this week, I was driving my black oleragtop, yeah I know, Florida, August, black cars, convertibles, yeah, I have heard it all but anyway, the goodrealtor strokes that check and I head over to the bank to deposit it, no, not this bank, but the one servicing all of America, to deposit this four party, Kuwaiti based check.

So I am queued up in that line of automobiles, trying to put that drive in bank teller into the same position as this oleunemployedconstructionworker, waiting on the moron in front of me to complete her transaction.

How do I know she is a moron?

I am sitting behind her, in an open black, open roofed automobile, sweating my ass off, and she can’t pull twenty feet forward to put her money away and get herself gathered up to head out to A1A.

No, she spends, and I timed it on my trusty cell phone, 2:42 minutes getting her shit together while I am sweating my ass off, trying to deposit my measly earnings for the day.

Thanks Bitch!!

And thanks to the Complaint Department Manager for allowing me to have the outlet to finally, complain about something.

But just know, I still possess the ability to

Celebrate Life.

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>Try Not To Laugh Too Hard


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>Must have been the burritos he had for lunch.

Turn up your volume.

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>Click here to see what Stevie Wonder had to say at Michael Jackson’s subdued service.

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