Tuesday, October 30, 2007


For the love of all that is holy, people, CHECK YOUR BAGS WHEN YOU FLY! Seriously, the time you think you're making up by not going to baggage claim is time we have to waste waiting on your lumbering ass to pull your overstuffed piece of shit bag out of the overhead compartment. Every single motherfucker on the plane, except me. I (eventually) sail off the plane, zip through the airport, pick up my bags and leave. I'm begging you: stop.

I'm very serious about this. So serious, I've rage-blogged about it before.

Also, please know that if you drink coffee, a bottle of water and a soda while sitting on your seat you will be forced to wake your aisle-seated neighbor five different times during the flight so you can visit the lavatory. You aren't power exercising, friend: be kind to your fellow passengers and karma will reward you.

It can't be said often enough: SHUT THE FUCK UP.


So I'm here in Las Vegas. Having a great time. Live blogging! http://troubleonwheels.blogspot.com

Friday, October 26, 2007

5 Words

My Mom Is On Facebook

Dirty Vegas

Ah yes: hot rods, frantic PR folks, burnout contests, car "celebrities" and flag girls. It must be time for SEMA! The Specialized Equipment Marketing Association (SEMA) show is known for concept car debuts and a tremendous amount of hoonage.

I'm on assignment there and will (hopefully) be live-blogging and posting awesome photos over at my other blog, the one that is a scoonch more professional: http://troubleonwheels.blogspot.com.

Not a tremendous amount of free time, but do you have any suggestions for fun things to do in Vegas?

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Tuesday, October 23, 2007

The Thing About Comedy Clubs

1. Unless you know one of the jokesters or got comp tickets, you paid around $20 pp to enter the club.

2. If it was an off-night or the comedians aren't well-known, you can have your choice of seats. Otherwise, it's an elbow-to-asshole dash to sit together with your friends.

3. A 2-drink minimum seems a universal policy. Something innocuous &mdash say, a Coors Light — will probably set you back $10. Every comedy club server I've seen looks like she was up all night offering the blow-for-blow special to the club's headliner. She hates you, by the way.

4. The first act is lame and gets mostly polite laughs. He/she sweats this one out while several obnoxies in the audience commence complaining about every damn thing.

5. Booze takes affect by the second act, causing the audience noise level to drastically increase. People tell their own jokes to their friends, or make fun of someone the group knows and they all cackle and roar.

6. The first act is now at the bar, staring daggers at the second act and trying to pick up the non-responsive server. If you look around the audience you can pick out the teetotalers: they look confused, depressed and disgusted.

7. By the time the headliner "ta-da"s on the stage the audience is primed. By primed, they mean slobbering, laughing uncontrollably when the act merely raises an eyebrow, and one cocktail and one joke about dating away from puking.

8. The lights go up, the bills are presented, everyone goes back to the relative dreariness of their life.

I know a couple of comedians. They're super nice people, funny, entertaining. I hope they get to do more than touring comedy clubs. Can you imagine how dispiriting it must be to face the above scenario, night after night, town after town?

Rarely, I will go to the comedy club, usually in support of a comedian I know. I have to get good and drunk to enjoy it, otherwise I'll spend the whole night taking in all the depressing, greedy, misanthropic energy of the place.

Not fun or funny, says I.

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Friday, October 19, 2007

Hurricane Trouble

* 1.5 ounces light rum
* 1.5 ounces dark rum
* 1 ounce orange juice
* 1 ounce fresh lime juice
* 1/4 cup passion fruit juice
* 1 teaspoon superfine sugar
* 1 teaspoon grenadine
* Cherries with stems, and orange slice to garnish
* Ice cubes
Let me tell you something about this cocktail: It is my kryptonite. Probably a significant number of other people recall the lure ("Refreshing!" "Fruity!") and the stealthy way the rum sneaks up behind you, whistling distractedly, and konks you over the head precisely when you think, "What's all the hubbub with this drink? It's yummy. I don't need no stinking limits!"

Gin=Sick, like Ebola Sick
Whiskey=New, Unwanted Friends
Shots=You Doing Unbelievably Stupid Things

I've only been falling-down-gibberish-blather drunk a handful of times in my life, mostly because alcohol was always readily available to me at home. There was no mystique, really, so I didn't have that "Girls Gone Wild" college experience with booze. Oh, and I had a 21 fake ID when I was 15 and went out clubbing with my sisters. Seeing adults behaving badly was an excellent deterrent.

Guess what I drank those handful of slobbering idiot times? Hurricanes.

One time, on my birthday, I had a luau party. This was a challenge because my birthday is in March, the snowiest month in Denver. There was indeed a blizzard, but my friends rallied and wore their coconut bras, grass skirts and aloha shirts under their parkas. The bar owners were absolutely charmed by us, and announced a drink special in my honor. Hurricanes for $2! Whee!

So I woke up the next morning in a strange bed, next to a strange person, naked, and oh yes: my very best thong hanging limply on the ceiling fan. This is where I point out that (minus rum-based tropical cocktails) I am not one of those girls. Nope, not. I'm a serial monogamist and abjectly terrified of one night stands.

So you'd think I would learn, eh? Well, Superfly and I went to a new karaoke place, and the regular gang was all there. The server tells us it's Ladies Night and Hurricanes are $2. I'll bet the Hawaiian girls are cursing me right now for talking them into it. Supey correctly predicted the outcome, of course. I am hungover like a sumbitch and have no memory of driving home and going to bed.

Forget roofies, guys. If you want that girl retarded and naked, buy them a few Hurricanes!

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Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Rockies in the World Series. Now Here's Some Real News!

Robert Plant. Allison Krause. An album of soulful, beautiful, ethereal duets. She's a little bit Bluegrass and he's a little bit Rock 'N Roll. In both cases, by "a little bit" I actually mean "titans of their craft".

You MUST acquire this CD.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Monday Blues

* Someone please remind me again why volunteering to edit the local Hadassah chapter's bulletin was a good idea? I'm all yenta'd out.

* We found a place here that has karaoke 7 days/week. We found that going out for karaoke on a Sunday night is not such a hot idea.

* Mercury is still retrograde, people.

* At my advanced age, I still have not learned to be cordial to everyone, even the people I desperately want to stab in the eye. I'm beginning to think it's this — rather than a youthful appearance or hipness — that causes people to not believe I am almost 40. Also, my kill list has new members!

I'm tired, a little hungover, sore from exercising and completely unable to work my facial muscles in anything but a comic frown.


Monday, October 08, 2007

DMV and Welfare: I Got Your Fix!

Going to the DMV is always a dicey proposition: Will it take 2 hours? 5 hours? Do I have all the right supporting documents, DNA samples, and a note from my mother? The DMV in any state is an inefficient, depressing office teeming with angry people and it needn't be like that.

Here is how you improve the experience for everyone concerned:

1. Greeter This person sorts out your purpose at the DMV, gives you a number and checks your documents. This gate-keeper will also inform all visitors that only the person doing business with the DMV (plus one adult for minors)may enter the building. This way, no screaming children, whole families or posses will use up the available seating or annoy you to point of mass murder.

BENEFIT: Peace and quiet, increased efficiency, less toll on DMV employees and less aggravation for visitors.

2. ID THEFT/ILLEGAL IDS: Currently, in the State of Colorado, you must present proof of citizenship, proof of identity, pass a cursory criminal background check, and submit your fingerprint. Police and an increasing number of nightclubs have handheld scanners that suss out fake IDs, no matter how sophisticated the fake holograms and bar codes. Lots of security and law enforcement professionals are on the job, hunting down identity thieves and prosecuting them. So the DMV can lay off regular DMV customers who just need to renew their license. Really, you think I'm spending half a day in the 5th circle of Hell to try an get a fake ID? DMV clerks need only check the documents, enter the information in the computer, and process the license. Leave the detective work to people in that job!

BENEFIT: Faster turnaround when your number is called.

3. MAILING IDs: This is the MOST boneheaded thing of all. You visit the DMV, go through all of that nonsense, and leave with a piece of paper. Within 7-11 days you'll receive your license in the mail, they tell you. Why? So it can once again be verified that you are not some thieving illegal alien or one of those computer nerds who design viruses and do identity theft for kicks. I happen to think it is wasteful, stupid and massively inconvenient. Also, someone looking to co-opt my identity, who was actually clever (unlike the girl who did fake being me), would be smart to go through my mail and look for official-looking envelopes, eh? DMV, just print the goofy-looking license on the spot and let us get on our way.

BENEFIT: Less stress, less wasted time

Now, there are a lot of myths surrounding welfare in the U.S. Illegal aliens! Meth Addicted moms! Lazy people! Thieves and scumbags! Let's face it: Those segments of our population exist in lots of other places, too. Health and Human Services is the new name for the Welfare Office, by the way. But I'm no cheerleader for HHS, and I'm not the one to dispel myths about Welfare.

But you know what? HHS offices are inefficient! Never mind why I was there, but let me tell you something: it was like no one told me it was Opposite Day. Faster than the DMV, but way more retarded. Three "counselors" after my initial query, I sat before an agitated man who I'm pretty sure took an instant dislike to yours truly.

Although I'd signed sworn and witnessed statements on several forms, he asked me again if I was a citizen of the U.S. Then — without consulting a manual or his computer screen, or so much as glancing at my forms —he informed me that if I made more than $280/month income I would not qualify for the help I was looking for.

Um, that's my beer budget, dude! Seriously, though, $280? No wonder parents get a divorce so they can qualify for benefits for their handicapped children. No wonder people don't work and spend their days cooking meth and having babies.

HHS is trying to combat waste and fraud, which, nationwide, costs billions. Their efforts have resulted in only those people trying to defraud the government can qualify for assistance. Neat! Well done, fart knockers!

Here's my solution:

Medicare: Healthcare costs in this country are staggering. But it isn't the people who need Medicare costing the government, it is the Healthcare Industry ratcheting up the costs. Stop punishing recipients and their doctors to recoup losses from fraud and waste. Hire HMO CEOs to turn things around financially and sic activists on the CEOs ass to keep him honest.

Food Stamps and Cash Assistance: Actually, these programs have vastly improved over the years, offering a debit card that can be used at any grocery store or ATM. This cuts back on people selling their food stamps, using them to buy things other than food, and on the stigma of "food stamps". Compared to what people who aren't on assistance spend on groceries and stuff, it is a pittance. But for people who otherwise can't afford food, it means everything. My only addition would be an extra benefit for people who attend nutrition classes.

Jobs: For many people, their circumstances declined to such a degree that they required public assistance. The problem occurs when those circumstances improve: Say Dude got injured and lost his construction job, and has a pregnant wife and an infant son. He has no medical insurance, so he applies for and gets Medicare, allowing him to get physical therapy for his injury. He gets cash and food assistance for his family because his money ran out quickly. Now that he's healed and ready to go back to work, he's faced with a dilemma: his wife is getting great prenatal care and the boy gets immunizations and stuff through Medicaid, and he can't afford medical insurance even when he's working. He will lose his benefits when he starts working.

HHS already offers and encourages job training to all recipients, they want assistance to be as temporary arrangement as possible. Ok, but offer a COBRA-style coverage to recipients who do manage to go to work, and for people who are on semi-permanent assistance, such as the poor parents of handicapped children, make accommodations for qualification so that parents are not divorcing to help their children.

Babies: Yes, the poorer you are and the more babies you have — especially if you are unmarried — the higher your benefit. Duh, those women need more assistance. But to discourage people from having additional children to get more assistance, offer a higher benefit for not having more children while on assistance. No one wants to venture into eugenics, here, it's about money and getting OFF assistance.

I feel better now, don't you? Just to reiterate, I don't work for any government agency, nor do I receive public assistance. I'm just a crank!

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Monday, October 01, 2007

Pout for Me Baby, C'mon, Work It.

1. Not only did my beloved Philadelphia Eagles lose to the meathead Giants, McNabb was sacked a record 20 times. Painful.

2. I've been trying to work my way into Jalopnik for more than a year — they REALLY need some estrogen up in that bitch — and now they've hired some chick with less experience than me but younger. And she's probably slobbing some knobs over there, but maybe I'm just motherfucking bitter! [UPDATE: Said strumpet is overstating her professional experience just a scoonch! Good thing no one reads my stupid blog or I might hurt feelings or something.]

3. Another person said I look like Tina Fey. I look nothing like Tina Fey. Tina=brunette, brown eyes, thin, proportioned frame. Trouble=redhead, blue eyes, huge tits and chicken legs. We do, however, wear the same kind of glasses.

On the upside! I'm going to Las Vegas for Halloween (SEMA auto show) and I got a fabulous new haircut. The best damn stylist in Denver cut 10" of hair off my head and shaped it into something he described as, "less hippy chick". That's a relief.

I look a little like the photo above.

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