While I was at the ATM this evening I noticed someone pull up behind me just as I was finishing.  Rather than hold them up I pulled forward enough to let them access the machine while I put away my card, cash, and receipt.  But no sooner than I’d pulled forward and folded the receipt the asshole pulled up and started honking.  He hadn’t even tried to use the ATM.

So I went ahead and finished putting stuff away and started to put the truck into gear when this guy started honking again along with the addition of yelling something or other that I couldn’t make out.  It was bad enough that he’d honked at all, so his escalating bad manners tripped my passive-aggressive frack with assholes gene.  I put the truck into reverse and held it there for a few seconds, then put it into drive and waited a purposely languid five-count.  This sent Mr. Impatient Rage-Head off the deep end and he really started losing it so I went ahead and moved forward, but at the slowest possible speed that an Avalanche can attain (so slow as to be unreadable on the speedometer).

I think what really happened here is that Mr. Impatient Rage-Head was trying to drive through instead of going to the ATM and misinterpreted my moving forward as being done rather than as doing him the favor of allowing access to the machine.  I say this because he immediately went to one of the nearby parking spots and someone got out.  Frankly, though, if you’re going to get into the ATM lane, you should expect some sort of delay.

I get a real kick out of annoying assholes, especially inconsiderate ones.  I think I need a bumper-sticker to that effect.  Although that might take some of the fun out of it.  Anyhow, the more you push, the more I resist and dawdle and delay.  It’s a natural and ingrained reaction.  But assholes never learn, so I seem to have a never-ending source for amusement.

Please, people, stop naming your girls Aubrey. 

As noted in the above linked Wikipedia entry, it’s a traditionally male name that, unfortunately, is also used for girls in the United States. 

Of Teutonic origin, “Aubrey” means “Fair Ruler of the Little People”, or “King of the Elves” [1]. The name Alberich is a more common Germanic variant, with the syllable ‘Alb’ translating as “Elf” and ‘Ric’ representing “power”. In the twelfth century, a Christian saint and abbot named St. Aubrey founded the Cistercian Order, seeking to operate under the Rule of St. Benedict, continuing Benedict of Nursia’s tradition of solitary scholarship in a community of monasticism.

The name is traditionally male, but is also used as a feminine name in the United States. It was the 69th most popular name given to girls born in the United States in 2007. It was last ranked among the top 1,000 most common names for boys in the United States in 2002. It was the 479th most common name for all males in the United States in the 1990 census.[2] “Aubrey” can also be spelled “Aubre”,or “Aubrie”.

It’s not too late to stop, though.  If we stop the madness now, in a generation or two things will be less confusing for those who come after us.

It will also mean I don’t have to share a name with a complete and total moron.

I was in the store last night and did a double-take when I saw a pallet of “Old Yeller” brand dog food.  It seems to me naming a brand of dog food for a dog that gets rabies and has to be shot would lead to unfortunate associations in the minds of buyers.  At least it does so for me.  I must not be the norm, though, as some Google searching shows that the brand has been around since 2005.

In keeping with my affinity for strange remakes, here’s Señor Coconut doing his version of Smooth Operator:

And to cleanse your musical palate, here’s the original: Sade – Smooth Operator

People always say that things are bigger in Texas, and this woman seems hell-bent on living up to expectations. 

A woman from Texas has reportedly undergone nine breast enlargement operations to become the proud owner of the world’s largest breast implants — size 38KKK.

American doctors had refused to carry out any more operations on Sheyla Hershey, 28, when her breasts were a staggering 34FFF, but that didn’t stop her from going under the knife for the record breaking surgery.

“To me, big is beautiful. I don’t think I have anything to worry about,” the Houston-resident said.

Still determined to increase her bustline, Hershey jetted off to Brazil where there are no limits on the size of implants.

The surgery required a full gallon of silicone.

I can’t help but think that there’s something subtly wrong with her judgment.  Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t see the appeal.  It looks like she had a couple of basketballs grafted to her chest.  Sometimes bigger isn’t better.

A couple of days ago Rachel Lucas posted about some concerns with a trapped raccoon.  Specifically, raccoons are some nasty, mean, little buggers.  Obviously, someone forgot to clue this guy into that fact:

A FEISTY raccoon has bitten off a pervert’s PENIS as he was trying to rape the animal.

Alexander Kirilov, 44, was on a drunken weekend with pals when he leapt on the terrified – but toothy – fur ball.

“When I saw the raccoon I thought I’d have some fun,” he told stunned casualty surgeons in Moscow.

Now Russian plastic surgeons are trying to restore his mangled manhood.

“He’s been told they can get things working again but they can’t sew back on what the raccoon bit off,” said a pal.

“That’s gone forever so there isn’t going to be much for them to work with.”

Painful, but poetic, justice.

If you have to rely on the police report to find out what happened, you’ve probably had too much to drink:

“I don’t know what happened,” Feldman told the Register. “But I don’t deny that it did happen, because, obviously, there are police reports.”

So what did happen?

University police cited Feldman and Ross M. Walsh, 26, of Linden, Iowa, for indecent conduct.

Feldman said she had never met Walsh.

“I don’t know who this man is,” she told the Register. “I just found out his name in the paper.”

A security guard discovered the two having sex in a handicapped stall in a men’s room, police said. Police were summoned, and they interrupted the two.

Walsh was released to his girlfriend and Feldman to her husband, police said.

I suppose finding out the other party’s name in the newspaper would be a second indicator that you’d had too much to drink.  And that must have been one heck of a ride home…

It occurred to me that those who are more squeamish than I am may not wish to view all of the blood and gore in the included photos, so I’ve hidden them behind Javascript links that show or hide the photos when you click them.

I was flipping through the Tivo guide over the weekend and saw the title The Whale that Exploded on NGC-HD and decided that with a name like that I just had to watch it, so I set the Tivo to record it for later viewing. I finally got around to watching it last night. It details the circumstances of a 50-ton sperm whale that exploded in a Taiwanese city in January, 2004.

Here’s a picture of the scene (the whale’s back “blew out,” sending blood and intestines flying behind the truck):

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Ultimately, this turned out to be due to a combination of an injury to the whale and natural decomposition. What I found amusing (in a grim sort of way) was that there was a man “sleeping off a late night” in the white car:

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Just imagine that you’re sleeping off a bender in your car. You are out cold when all of sudden BOOM!   SPLAT! you wake to find a bloody mess on and around your car and a stench that one witness described as like “a thousand dead fishes.” Talk about a rude awakening!

I saw this ad over at Rachel Lucas’s blog today:

I couldn’t help but think that not only did this product cause her to lose 12 pounds, but it made her go from black to white. Truly an amazing feat!

I once was told that I sounded like a radio announcer on a conference call, but today someone said I sounded like Gary Sinise.  I would have never thought of that, although frankly I couldn’t tell you one way or the other, since I’m trapped in here with my own voice and it never sounds the same from the inside as it does outside.  Of course, with all of the fungus and ragweed in the air lately there’s no telling what kind of voice will come out when I open my mouth to speak.