Some General Complaints And Then I Sleep (The Remix Version)

Just checking in to make my daily complaints about everything that bothered me today and since I was in such a bang up of a mood after last night's Diddy Variety Show on MTV, there may be a lot to write about...

Two follow-ups from last night's recap before I tear Monday and the human race a new asshole...

First, there is a rumor that Suge Knight shot himself in the leg with his own gun this weekend. Of course, the police cannot find the gun probably because his bodyguards disposed of it due to the fact that if Suge is found with a firearm, he violates parole and is back to being Big Earl's "Go Bitch" in the joint... BUT if the police do discover that he shot himself in the leg, can they just shoot him to spare us the inevitable and to keep him out of the news? I love you Suge, really, but can he stop fucken up the program? (I had to say that last line so that I would not be killed by Suge.)

Second, the party at which he was shot hosted by Kanye West, apparently, did not have anyone searching for weapons at the door. Just so I am clear, if I throw a party and invite Suge Knight, I am searching for guns, knifes, string, and anything else that could be used to kill another human being.

To hammer home how crazy this lack of security is... in New Orleans this weekend, officials were searching the people seeking shelter from Hurricane Katrina in the Superdome for drugs and weapons. These people were trying to avoid death in a horrific storm and were being searched... But in Miami, at a party that has Suge Knight in attendance, who is the individual blamed for starting the East Coast versus West Coast rap war, there is no such search requirement.... good hustle fellas.

Now onto the complaints, first and foremost and for the record (Note: As an attorney, I am always making a record.), Monday is the bastard child of the work week as no matter how you try to sugarcoat it, Monday's absolutely fucken blow. This is because on Mondays, people show up exhibiting some form of exhaustion and/or withdrawal from the weekend's festivities. As a result, I propose that it be mandatory that no work can start before 10 AM on Mondays in order to ease the work force into the work week.

Additionally, it will get rid of all the Monday morning peppy people, who are constantly filling Monday mornings with white noise as they feel the need to announce to the office the events oft heir weekend, which is always the craziest and BEST WEEKEND OF ALL TIME. If we push the day back,however, these people will already have shot their peppy load come ten o'clock in the morning by talking to themselves. Thus, us non-peppy people will not have to listen to their bull shit as we try to figure out how we got to work in the first place and why we didn't just call in sick. Further, this will lessen the chance that I will end up curb stomping someone at 9 in the morning. It's for the greater good here people because I do not need to kill anyone, atleast not right now.

Now, if we are not going to make the work week start later on Monday mornings, then I propose that no one is allowed to spea until 10 AM on Mondays. In this way, we will eliminate all of the "how was your weekend" and "how are you feeling" bull shit conversations that pervade our Mondays. I too am guilty of asking these questions, but I ask as a matter of habit and not because I really care about the fact that you spent the weekend in some shit hole of a bar in Hoboken, hooking up with some fattie, and were SO WASTED... In reality, while you are talking, I am thinking about what websites I have not looked at yet this morning, writing this entry, and if friend X, e-mailed me yet today about the Sox game last night. I would say eliminate Mondays from the work week entirely but really Tuesdays would then be just as bad as Mondays, and thus, we would just have to adopt the above suggestions for Tuesday mornings.

One final thought on this topic, if you get the chance, watch how the chippy peppy fuckers are always the people, who by Wednesday, are having a mental breakdown about how much work they have and are totally burned out on the week. Their existence is basically an exercise in futility as they prove to be essentially worthless to the overall productivity of the office due to the fact that they are productive at the one time that no one else is i.e. Monday mornings and then, fall off the wagon by the time the rest of the office picks up steam i.e. 11 Am to 1 PM on Wednesdays... As a result, I am not sure what we should do with these individuals, but one idea is the public execution of a select few of them in order to make an example of them to the remainder of Peppy Nation... (I am not crazy people, I just need help.)

Next up, humidity... I go to Vegas every year because I love wickedly hot temperatures. I like to sit in the sun in order to sweat and bake. What I cannot stand is humidity... And I am not talking about normal humidity rather I am talking about the "seventh circle of hell" humidity that exists in New York City during the summer. As I wrote about on Saturday, this past weekend, it appeared that humidity had finally released us from its evil grasp for the summer as there was a pleasant breeze and nothing to make my boxers stick to my balls for an entire afternoon. In reality, humidity was just fucking with us as it promptly reentered the picture Saturday evening while I was at an 80's party in Jersey City. (I know all parties in Jersey are 80's Parties, easy guys...) Slowly but surely, humidity took over Saturday evening and by the time I woke on Sunday, it was in full effect ready to ruin three to four of my t-shirts and multiple pairs of boxers... (I am a sweater, I sweat)...

The worst part about the humidity in the City is the apparent alliance it has formed with the subway stations. The subway stations, which already smell like dead rat, garbage, and piss, reach new levels of funk when they are combined with 100+ degree temperatures and 300% humidity. It is really hard to explain what the actual feeling is when you enter a subway station, but I assure you that if you are not expecting that first blast of heat and stench when you descend those fateful stairs, it will take your breath away meaning that when you enter one of these bad boys, you quickly realized that you are actually feeling the fires of hell firsthand topped off with a mugginess that causes immediate liquification of the skin along with a wicked case of swamp ass.

The humidity/subway station axis of evil makes the whole wearing a suit to work thing that much more uncomfortable to the point that the last thing that I make sure that I have before I walk out the door is a fat kid towel to wipe myself down after the walk to the subway. Couple these conditions with my lack of hair and by the time, I get to the platform, I have sweat dripping down my face, back, butt, and balls. It is a sad state of affairs being a fat kid playing the role of an attorney during the summer in New York City. (Actually, I think that is a new Kevin Smith film or atleast something he has in the works starring Ben Affleck.)

Finally, I have said this to a bunch of friends over the last couple of days and thus will make short order of my third and final complaint for the evening. I cannot stand car horns and how people in New York City feel the need to blast their horns whenever someone fails to get off the line the second the light turns green. Many complain about this daily occurrence for the simple reason of WHAT GOOD DOES IT DO, besides making that person angry, you angry, and passerby's angry. It certainly does not make traffic move quicker. I argue that it creates more traffic because once that horn goes off, everyone usually stops to figure out who is honking and who they are honking at.

So I have a simple proposal to correct this over zealous abuse of the car horn, each car should be equipped with a sensor that detects unnecessary usage of the horn. Once the car senses this usage, it would initiate a self-detonating device that would essentially blow up anyone in the car while not affecting anyone on the outside of the car or the car itself. As a result, we eliminate the problem without hurting anyone else. Sure it means that someone is dead but that is one less car horn abuser to worry about and that is the goal, right?

So those are the complaints and since it's Tuesday morning, I should hit it... I have more things to complain about like how the Yankees have clearly made a deal with the devil this summer and are thus making their requisite push to the playoffs... or how my job sucks so bad that I may actively attempt to get fired... But those are for another day...

For the record (there it is again), I wrote this entire thing in the nude while listening to Bruce Springsteen's Greatest Hits... I think that's a hookup in Jersey...

Take it in the ass...

R.D.