Fast food menus out of control...

America has become fixated on the development of healthy conscious citizens. There is a plethora of organic foods on shelves in the local grocery stores. People want to trim the fat; they want to live to one hundred. Who would want to do that? I think eighty years in this great country is sufficient. Case closed. Bury my ass.

I continue to support my fast food neighbors. Their hamburgers remain tasty and greasy as ever. Their tacos are fat as hell and spicy to boot. I chow them down at least a couple of times a week. I like to keep things real. I often drench them in mustard and catsup. I let the juices run down my chin while I am watching a football game. I like to cheer like an animal in between bites of my tasty treat.

My problems with fast food are not related to calorie intake. The pickle I find myself in happens at the drive through. The menus are so fucking large, and I have no idea what to order. I take my time and read through all the options to make sure I really get the best selection. My indecision baffles the cars behind me, and the honking then commences. They want me to move my ass as fast as possible. I linger. I talk sweet pleasantries to the voice on the speaker. I ask about calorific intake, and then change my mind. I change it again. I stutter. I mumble. I fuck it all up and then drop the change when she opens the window to take my coins. I take my burrito smothered in cheese and sit in traffic. I can't wait to get it home and devour it. The next time I check out the menu online to write down my selections. My mouth waters while I look at the internet menu. I am the organic mother fucker.

A cold shower mini-burst...

The bathroom is a sacred place. A person's shower is the last place where he or she might be interrupted. The gentle needles of rain soothe a body after a rough day of work. There are different levels of massage that allow for various levels of comfort. Relaxation. Peace. Tranquility. Take me away to another place, mother fucker. Close your eyes to forget the misery of a bad day, a routine disturbed by a flat tire or a deadline unmet.

Sharing a hotel room with a family member or friend is always fun. It is great to play catch or catch up. Listen to the person's experiences. Laugh. Cry. Share a hug. Then wait while that person heads to the bathroom for a relaxing shower. Fill up a cup of water and tip toe carefully towards the edge of the shower. Dump the cold water onto the person and then laugh like a hyena. Your victim most likely will emit a response like: "What the fuck?" and then learn to lock the door in the future. You can never be too careful these days. The mother fucker might have ice cubes next time for a new victim. Those suckers can do some damage.

Encrypted words now impossible to read...

Setting up new accounts these days has become a miserable experience. Resetting passwords is equally horrendous. What I mean is that certain websites are asking people to type in bizarre words for security reasons. These ridiculous words are very long and unreadable at best. I try my hardest to make sense of the disfigured L or the outrages G, but it is to no avail. It seems like the mother fuckers in administration have concocted a way to rob person of a few minutes of his or her life.

I recently asked a website administrator about this dilemma. He answered my question very succinctly: "We are in the face of the worst recessions ever to grip this country. Why not give people a little more grief when they try to reset a password or create a new account?" The same administrator went on to say--"We try to pick a word that is hardly ever used in the English language and then we ask the person at the computer to spell it correctly. We do a good job ruffling the person's feathers so that he or she might have to second guess the right word to enter into the little box."