... not ride a bike like a douchebag.

I'm not trying to point fingers, cause I wore ripped jeans in the 80's, but what's with those fucking suits that these bicyclists wear? I'm pretty sure that out of the dozens of cyclists I've seen on the back roads, most of them aren't training for the Tour de France. Doesn't anyone make a bike suit in normal colors? These clowns are billboards. I don't see people on the side of the road going, "Oh look, he bikes so well, and he has a SoBe water shirt on, we better go buy some." And on top of it, they aren't always bright colors. Many times they are like urban camoflage, blue, black, and white. Guys on dump trucks have brighter colors. The brighter colors they wear seem to be pastel ... maybe it's more flattering ... but it could be more "flattening." 

But that's besides the point. I guess I've diverted my anger from these people's actions to their clothing. And really, some of the bikers aren't assholes. The real problem are the ones that think that since bicycling has become a more mainsteam sport, they are entitled. These are the douchebags that think they own the road, or should be treated like a pedestrian. A red light means stop. It doesn't mean, "Well you are on a non-motorized vehicle, that's okay, nobody is looking, come on right through." And what about those packs of assholes who think they have strength in numbers like a school of fish. "Look shark, we are bigger than you, run away" ... except the "shark" is a Ford F150 and the "school" is 12 losers in spandex blocking the roadway from blue collered people trying to get to their second job or overtime. You ain't a friggin' school bus people ... we don't have to stop for you. 

No shit. I actually saw two dicks on bikes trying to out manuver a friggin' firetruck as motorists pulled over. I shouted out to the guy and he gave me the finger. There should be a hunting season for these freaks. Okay calm down, don't call the cops on me, I just think it should be legal to go up and push them over like cow tipping if they pull crap like that. I am all for people getting some excercise, I think it's great that you want to get together, but you don't see me putting a weight bench in the freaking street. Plus, what the fuck are these people thinking? If a truck lost control, they would be splattered like multicolored spandex wearing flies across the windshield. Their 3 pound bikes would be imbedded like small fishbones in the big truck grill. What's the idea behind the fact that they can't stop for 10 seconds? Do they think they are in a race every time they hop on the bike, or in such intense training trying to beat their last time? I can hear the two guys talking now, "Oh my God! I was on my way to a personal best time and that ambulance got in my way. Can you freaking believe it Gerry?" I'm pretty sure that most cyclists like this have names like Gerry and Carl, and maybe a Leo or two. Just like the WW2 vet's name at the Dunkies was probably Hank...or Art.

...clean the snow of your car.

Okay, let's start with a geography lesson.  New England is comprised of six states: Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island.  This particular region of the country can be characterized by quite "impressive" winters.  Annual snowfall can be up to 100 inches. If you live in any one of these six states, I'm fucking talking to you.  And if you live in one of these six states, you had better be able to identify this:

And assuming you know what that is - fucking get one! In New England, a snow brush should be in your car from October through April - yes, I said April.  Remember the year that Mayor Menino had all the plows taken off the trucks in Boston on April 1 and we got slammed with snow a few days later - fucking moron.  Oh, and it's not just good enough to be in your car - you have to USE IT!

These are the scenarios I have observed this winter:

1.  A car driving down the street with the front windshield cleaned off, side windows and back window covered in snow.  That might be fine for the Grand Prix raceway at Disney World where your car is on a fucking track and you can only go forward, but not so great when you are actually controlling your vehicle and have to make informed decisions about turning left or right.

2. A car driving down the road with all the windows clear, but 6 inches of snow on top of the car.  Everything's cool and you're all proud of yourself because you saved some time ... until you come to a stop and the six inches of snow is now covering your front windshield.  Or better yet, when it flies off your car and hits the windshield of the car behind you - yeah - that's fucking considerate.

3.  A SUV or truck with 6 inches of snow on the roof.  Don't give me the fucking excuse that you couldn't reach it.  If you buy a vehicle that is taller than you, you have the responsibility to get an extendable snow brush ... yeah ... they make them. Use a step stool if you have to.

Which brings us to the How To section.

1. Use a gloved hand to clean off the area around your door handle and door.

2. Open door.

3. Procure snow brush from inside vehicle.

4. Start car and turn defrosters on high to help start to melt the snow/ice off your vehicle.

5. Close door 

5. Proceed to remove ALL snow and/or ice from the exterior of your vehicle.  When I say ALL, I mean on the roof,  on the windows, on the headlights, obscuring your license plate, and any miscellaneous snow/ice stuck to any part of the vehicle.

And, I probably should mention that you should start the above process at least 15 minutes, if not more, before you actually need to drive away in the car.  It takes time - plan for it.

Look, if you want to endanger your own life out of sheer stupidity - go ahead - survival of the fittest, I say (see the Darwin Awards) .  However when you endanger other people on the road, you're just another lazy piece of shit that lives the "I only give a shit about me" way of life - and yes, I take issue with that.

submitted by Guest blogger, B.

... alienate a beer drinker.

What the FUCK? Somebody just took an American Icon off the shelf and smashed it on the ground in a million pieces. I just read that Anheuser Busch is no longer giving free samples of their beer at their theme parks, i.e Seaworld, Busch Gardens. It just goes to show you what those Belgium asses, no, what is more insulting? dinks? porkers? weenies? do. (For those of you who are uninformed, A.B. sold out to InBev, a Belgium company.) Keep selling out the United States, assholes. I actually wonder if the machines we vote on are made in the U.S. If you closed our borders now, how much could we sustain ourselves? I know Polartec is still made in the U.S., and most of New Balance sneakers, and Poland spring water, maybe Frito Lay. So I guess we could run warmly with nice snacks, but God help us. I'm pretty sure we couldn't get much other food. Has to be less than 1% toys.  Of course I blame the stockholders and family members for selling out Anheuser Busch as well. Like you needed that much more money. How bad could you have been doing?

I guess I am ranting. But we have only ourselves to blame. What a bunch of weenies we are.

The best part is that the new owners of A.B  have the theme park spokesman, Fred Jacobs, so wound up that he said, "the free samples had a narrow appeal among park customers." Drink more of the Koolaid Fred! Couldn't you have found another job and kept your balls intact. I'd rather be working the night shift at a 7-11 and be able to look my son in the eye than let out that load of bullshit. 

C'mon, who reading this, who has been to the parks can say they have seen the lines at the sample bar less than crowded. The first time I saw them I thought it was for a ride, and said, "they'd have to be giving out free beer to make me wait in a line like that!" When I found out it was...I got in line. For crissake the freaking line reminded me of the gas lines in the 70's or when thay had those stupid fads on Cabbage Patch Kids and Power Rangers. And this was like every day, not just Christmas time. My freaking mother enjoyed a free sample, and she doesn't live in a double wide or anything. 

I don't know what the world is coming to... free samples didn't appeal to the masses. Fred! Go into a Costco on a weekend. People rush the fucking lady at the cheesy crab puff table and get in fist fights... 

A chance to sample a great American Beer? Fucking Belgians. Didn't we save their asses in WWII as well? I should have asked the guy behind me in the Dunkin Donuts line. 

... be a real hero.

I was reading the paper the other day, and before you make any fucking assumptions, I get both the "Rag Sheet" and the "Boring Broadsheet," so don't label me one way or the other, but that's another blog. And Howie can kiss my ass, cause he's all like the Globe sucks, but you never hear that the Herald has less of a circulation and a 5th grade reading level, but he has a point that no Globe reporter has had the balls to challenge him to a cage match. Anyway, Howie thinks all public servants are on the take, but nobody talks about his pay rate, and what he contributes to society (another blog). I digress again.

So the list comes out for what the pay rate for these Red Sox players get. I get pissed off.  I like sports, but I believe these guys don't know how fucking lucky they have it. I also believe they snowed a whole shitload of people. They play a game for a living. They get paid to work out, and, with some exceptions, they live the spring in a warm climate and play through the fall. They get performance bonuses, and have the winter off, most living somewhere warm. If they win a series, they get more money and admiration. It took like 50 fucking years for people to realize that the guys in WWII were the greatest generation ... just ask Hank. People have just accepted over 30 years later if you got shot in the ass in Viet Nam, you were deserving of recognition. Firefighters fight for a cost of living raise every fucking year, and I have yet to see a ticker tape parade for them. Sure, a firefighter gets killed, and they give a great send off.... too late. And look at the poor asshole firefighter from Lancaster who died and the town didn't want to give his wife survivor benefits ... wait, Darryl Strawberry just wrote a book, he was arrested and did drugs ... boo hoo. $26.99 list price, visa and mastercard accepted, but he just wants people to understand him ... He might have even beaten a wife or two ... I'm not sure about that assumption, but stuff like that is usually based in truth. Maybe he'll try to sue me and get more press. Anyway, I have a really intelligent friend who works in an afterschool program with kids ... educating. I tell him my feelings and he starts to defend the boys of summer. Blah blah blah, they have talent. Yeah, don't talk about molding the youth of America, or pulling someone out of a fire, or saving a heart attack victim. Then he starts talking about supply and demand. I remind him that when there was a baseball strike, people got used to it and found different shit to do. And that teachers, cops, and firefighters can't strike by law.

I don't think "sports" and "hero" belong in the same sentence. Oddly enough you don't usually hear "sports hero" in the context with a Olympian, usually only a "professional" sports figure . And you know what, anybody from any fucking country who has qualified for the Olympics is higher in my book. They had to put in their whole heart to get there. Not just get there, get a good manager and then work the contract ... I'm mad, I'm not showing up at spring training, go ahead, try to make me cut my hair..."oh that's just Manny being Manny." Any other dumb fuck that tried that with a boss would find his ass out on the street. Bite a guys ear off, rape a girl, cheat on your wife with Madonna ... whatever.

My kids' teacher tutors during the summer, buys supplies with her own money, spends time off the clock adding to curriculum, and listens to every "guess what I did over vacation," "look my tooth fell out," and "my dog had puppies story" like it was the first time it happened in history.  That's a hero.

A good friend once coined the term with humor that a firefighter was the "Greatest American Contemporary folk hero." He of course used it sometimes with a sly grin, but like Darryl beating a wife or two, it has a ring of truth. In general most firefighters will give a tour to some kids, hand over a helmet for them to look at, blow the air horn, and wave. They raise money for charities, suffer injuries from helping others, and raise money, awareness, or give of themselves to help a fellow firefighter or their family. So ... I hope Manny, Barry Bonds and A-Rod open up their wallets and buy poor Darryl's book ... help a brother out, would ya?

Oh and don't read to much on that either ... if you are in a union, you are a brother, or a sister, or a band of brothers in the military... 

..not order coffee at Dunkin Donuts

The following really happened to me...the other day. This is the stuff of sitcoms set in New York City.

I was stopping by Dunkies on the way home, to get my mom a beverage, as she had been watching my kids. I can see there are only a couple people inside, and a spot out front, so I decide to go in, rather than use the drive thru, because those little metal boxes piss me off in general, especially when the person inside has a thick accent, which accentuates the whole communication problem. I actually got pies instead of fries at a McDonalds once.

Anyway, I am standing behind the sole customer in the store, a young woman, when her friend who had been sitting down, stands up and exclaims, "Wait, I decided I want a coffee after all."

She turns to the clerk ... yes he is a clerk not a barrista -  that shit's for Starbucks and other snooty places, and says, "I'll have an medium iced, french vanilla, in a hot cup, with 5 melted sugars, caramel, and a shot of turbo." I'm pretty sure the clerk had a stroke after she said 5 melted sugars, because I watched his head tilt dramatically to one side and his eyes became wide, and a little drool might have even slipped out.

How do you know I am not making this up? Because I wrote it down on a receipt I had in my pocket, in case the police wanted evidence to what happened to the poor clerk. He slurred his response, but I believe it translated into, "Say that again? " And I wrote it down  as she repeated it, so it's pretty fucking accurate. Enough to get her on voluntary manslaughter anyway. So, by this time, there is a line of 4 people behind me. The first guy is some old dude, who you know just wants a small black, because that's the way he's been drinking it since WWII. I turned and looked at him and I wasn't sure if he was more amazed at her order, or what she was wearing. She had one of those puffy bright white vests, the kind you can only wear once and then have to throw away, because the dust in the air makes it dingy, jeans with that bullshit embroidery on the back pockets. Leather boots that keep making her ankles kick out like a kid's first outing on ice skates, those glamour glasses and the (fake?) designer bag. Anyway, the guy behind him looks like the guy that desperatly still wants to buy a cruller, but has to settle for that crappy cruller replacement, a glazed stick . And the chick either with him, or behind him, I'm pretty sure wants a decaf with equal. So we're trying to figure out if we should just walk away now, or if we're going to get in trouble for leaving the scene of a crime. That poor schmuck of a clerk tries his best. He comes the first time holding a coffee in a cup and a cold cup with ice in it in the other hand. I know something else is wrong, but I can't figure it out. She turns him away. Then he comes back again and had put something in like hazelnut or some shit, and she says, "No, I didn't want that." Finally he comes back the last time, still with 2 cups, the cold one with ice in it only, and she says, "Okay, I'll take it, I guess you tried your best."

I step up and the clerk kid purses his lips and blows out the 5 liters of air he's been holding in, when I order 2 regular decafs and a muffin. He still doesn't say anything, so I'm pretty sure the stroke affected the area of his brain that handles speech, not motor function.

                         

...not block an intersection.

I especially love the people that block you from being able to go, then stare straight ahead like your on a different asteral plane and not really there. We're all human, people. If you made the mistake and blocked the road say," sorry". Then don't do it next time. Learn from it. You expect your kids to learn shit.

There are several degrees of intersection blocking:

Involuntary: you pulled up over the line so the asshole behind you wouldn't hit you in the rear 'cause he wasn't paying attention. This person usually tries to let you squeeze by, and might even back up.

Second degree: Your paying too much attention to your illegally used iPod, magazine, or poor judgement using your cell phone, GPS, or McSandwich. This causes you to make me late, but also makes me will you to drop your electronics in a puddle, or spill your food on your lap.

First Degree: This is the "I am more important than you, I can't see you" dickhead. This person follows the last car at the yellow light trying to squeeze through, or doesn't let a person pull into line from a side street, even though they are pulling up to a red light. Like pulling into the intersection is going to get you there any faster. It's called gridlock, asshole. All you've accomplished is the potential of someone getting road rage, and most people in line not giving a shit if you get beaten. It's a major domino effect. You have just caused a number of people to be late besides you and have added to the problem. People would stand in line to vote in overpaid cop details if they would just drop a ticket on these people. 

First Degree with no remorse: This is the worst ever. Those who believe in hell feel there is a  special place for these people where they wait thousand of years to get to the front of a parking lot line only to be told, "Sorry, we just filled the last spot."

This mega asshole, is the person who tries to create a second or extra lane in a road. I've even seen them go part up on curbs. They are the person who travels in the breakdown lane, or even where it is allowed, past that point. How does this block traffic? Somewhere up ahead there is still a red light or blockage dick! What goes through these peoples minds? "Hey look at all these jerks sitting stopped here, there must be 100 people having strokes all at once. I guess I am lucky I was not afflicted. I better just swing around all these people." (see my blog on blocking emergency vehicles for some of the same rant)

So here's How to Fucking ... Not Block an Intersection, and make the world a better place. 

Step 1: Look to see if you are coming up to a yellow light and be ready to stop before the line

Step 2: Pay attention to what's around you, including the cross streets.

Step 3: If the light is red as you are approaching, let one person trying to merge in. I call it the zipper effect.

Step 4: It is physically impossible to make a 2 ton hunk of metal shrink on command. Stop making another lane. 

In every area there is one of these spots where people ride down the lane past a bunch of other people that are waiting to go, and try to squeeze in at the front of the line

In our area it is Route 2 at Alewife ... You locals know it!

I think it would be awesome if people had little signs in their car that said, "Nice try fucker, I ain't letting you in!"