Please America, Don't Feed the Cretins

America is getting mean, one city at a time. Two weeks ago, Las Vegas made it a crime to feed homeless people in parks. Orlando followed suit last week when city council passed their own ordinance making it illegal to feed the homeless in public parks. Apparently, feeding the homeless makes them stick around, and no one wants those dirty and dangerous transients running amuck. So, while the city does NOT approve of feeding the homeless out in the public, they do approve of treating them like zoo animals. I hope there are signs like, "Please Do Not Feed the Homeless, or the Squirrels".

The group, "Food Not Bombs" (translated - Bleeding heart, democratic hippies) plans to continue feeding vegetarian meals to the homeless. All I have to say here is, they WOULD be feeding vegetarian meals, and I roll my eyes in their general direction. Beggars can't be choosers, literally. I happen to think that a homeless person would prefer a little fried chicken to a lump of tofu and curd.

The ACLU is also getting involved, claiming this is just a superficial fix to the real problem with Orlando's homeless. What is the real problem exactly? The fact that these people are either too lazy or too proud to get help, or the fact that some of them actually enjoy being homeless because it's easier than facing reality. Heck, if you're homeless people seem to go out of their way to feed you, you can go to shelters and get showers and clothes for free, and in some cases use the internet. Trust me, there's a homeless guy who blogs. How else would a homeless guy be blogging?! And why isn't he getting a job?!! He's the reason I don't feed the homeless. I'd give you the URL for his blog, but I'm not endorsing this bum.

The commissioner in Orlando who pushed for the ordinance is claiming this decision was not easy for her, and that this is all being wrongly portrayed as "anti-homeless". How else are we supposed to interpret this? Is treating homeless like zoo animals and referring to them as dirty transients somehow pro-homeless? Overall, I don't disagree with the ordinance, but let's be honest here, this isn't a gray area. Either you like the homeless or you don't, and obviously this city council does not.

Overall, I don't disagree with the ordinance. That's because homeless people are known mainly for beating each other to near death over the best highway bridge to squat under, or lawn chairs, or 3 shopping carts tied together. I also do not approve of the way homeless people throw trash all over the place when they live oh so troll-like under bridges. If that's your home, are you too good for your home? Keep it clean, seriously.

Random Tasty Treats

I turned on the 11 o'clock news the other night just in time to hear this tasty treat; The Family Dollar store in Roselawn was robbed, suspect was a male seen wearing, and I quote, "a black hoodie and gold teeth". I have several problems with this short story. First, if you're an actual news anchor, should you be saying "hoodie"? Shouldn't you say, "a black hooded sweatshirt"? Please news casters (& writers), step off and leave the slang to us common folk. You know, the ones who aren't getting paid to know how to write and speak appropraitely. Or maybe I was watching Da' Hood News. Second, why was this guy wearing a hoodie? It was like 90 degrees that day, just slap some panty hose on your head and move on! Should we just start looking for a dehyrated criminal now? Third, a black hoodie and gold teeth, in Roselawn, that narrows the search down to oh...everyone! If I find out that this robber had a neck injury and was named Derrick Cannon...well, there will be another blog...

Giddy up Gangstas! Gangsters are apparently back in action in upstate New York. A council woman found a severed horses head in her swimming pool. Apparently she has difficulty making offers people can't refuse, and she certainly seems to know how to make friends and influence people. That's a heck of a thing to wake up to! I hope she has a strong stomached pool boy.

A man in Covington has been arrested after a hit and run incident. This was no ordinary hit and run, oh no! This guy took it one step further. The driver apparently looked to eyewitnesses as if he was trying to run a stop sign, and he plowed over a teen on a bike. I know, we've all joked "2 points for the kid on the bike!", but we don't act it out! THEN he asks the teen if he's ok, and leaves the scene. Here's how he leaves the scene, by putting his car in reverse and backing over the kid, running him over again. No douche bag, I am NOT ok, you just hit me with a truck, twice. You know, it would be a truck too, afterall this was in Kentucky ya'll! So far, it's not been confirmed if the driver was drunk or if he ran over that poor kid on purpose, twice. My guess is a healthy dose of meth and a Colt 45 led up to this tragedy, afterall..it WAS Kentucky. I bet this guy doesn't even remember leaving his house.

The Daniel Carter Beard Bridge was closed briefly Wednesday night. Why was it closed? No, not another semi-truck wreck, not another teenager killing themselves by weaving through traffic, but a man was threatening to harm himself. The police were trying to "save" him. Yep, while crack was being smoked, Meth was being made, and Family Dollar's were being robbed, your tax dollars were going to save someone who doesn't want to save himself. There was also a police boat on stand-by in the river in case this man chose to really hurt himself and jump. This is probably a good thing, because if he WAS serious about hurting himself, he would've jumped in and had himself a drink of that hometown sludge. Honestly, he wasn't hurting anyone else, hand that man some swimmies and call it a night! (thanks for the input Kristen!)

Finally! A moment I have been waiting for! CPD finally makes me smile. Operation Vortex has expanded it's horizons to the Westside. Hmm, you mean there's more than one bad neighborhood in Cincinnati? After setting up a command post at Elder High School (how appropriate), police took off after random drug dealers, gun wielding thugs and prostitutes. Here's where I smile. A prostitute blamed a CPD officer for her arrest saying, "He actually lured me in!" The command post officer replied with the best one liner I've heard in a long time, "That officer did not arrest you for eating a pop tart and drinking a glass of water." There's lesson to be learned there kids, shake whatcha momma gave ya, go to jail.

Hero of the Week!

Two blogs in one day?! Jigga YAY!

I have some fantastic news, a HERO of the week! That's right, not a douche bag, but a hero. An 84 year old man in North Carolina used his cane to beat down a would-be mugger. Apparently, it all started when the worst mugger I've ever heard of pulled up (in his car) in front of Grandpa's house and asked for a cigarette. I hate when people beat around the bush, just ASK for my money up front please. Well, anyways, Grandpa is like, "I don't smoke yo!" This mugger proceeds to pull out a shot gun and start demanding money. Now, I'm not sure how close said vehicle was to the house, but either he was pretty stinking close or this was the longest shot gun ever. You see, when Captain Foolish pulls out his shotgun, Grandpa smote it down with his cane. THEN Grandpa took off running around the car, with the mugger chasing him and threatening him with the gun. How insanely slow are you when you can't even catch up to an old man with a cane? I bet this mugger wishes he would've remembered his helmet that day, because Grandpa turned around and beat him over the head WWF style with his cane until the idiot finally crawled back into his car and drove away. Where am I when things like this are happening? Oh yeah, hibernating.

*This is NOT the old man, but if I had to imagine...

My First Car, A Picture Story

I felt the need to better convey my point with some visuals.


There she is, The Party Wagon herself, in all of her poopy glory. For any of you who knew her, I don't apologize. You loved her, don't hate.


The pimped out dashboard, notice the hula doll and happy face between the vents. The hula doll didn't last, because dad drove it one day and I'm not kidding here, he ripped it off the dashboard and threw it on the floor saying "I work at GE, I can't have all those guys thinking I'm gay."


Ahhh, adding another bottle of power steering fluid to the beast. I'm glad someone was there to capture this moment for me. Tears....

My First Car

During a night of reminiscing with old friends we landed on the ever fun topic of our first cars. There was a plethora of rust, non-operational windows (even the hand crank ones didn't work!), bullet holes, and cars that should have reached terminal velocity at 45 m.p.h. because beyond that point the turbulence was almost too much to handle. This is how I know there's a God, otherwise we would have ALL died in any one of those cars back in the day!

So here's to my first car, "The Party Wagon". It was a 1990 Ford Aerostar minivan. It was two tone brown and Aaron had a two tone brown Jeep. We were destined to be together with those poop mobiles. I started the minivan trend, THEN someone else tried to one up me with his own two tone brown Aerostar (I believe his was the extended version though. Remember, bigger isn't better kids), but alas, no one could trump my party on wheels. How appropriate of me to use Spades terminology when discussing high school. I hope you Landmarkers appreciate it.

I am 99% positive that my car wasn't street legal for the majority of the time I drove it. I'm also sure I was the loudest car to be found, since the entire exhaust system fell off on Cox Road on my way home from work one night. Shortly after the exhaust system went A.W.O.L. from the rest of my vehicle, the transmission peaced out on me as well. Let me tell you, when you live on a busy street where the speed limit is 40, you KNOW people are doing at least 55. BONUS! We lived at the top of a hill. So here I am every morning for about 2 months, van stuck in reverse with other cars flying up the hill behind me, then screeching to a halt and honking their horns angrily at me. All I could do was sit there, car in drive, pedal to the floor until the gear finally caught and slammed me into drive with a force that cracked my sternum against the steering wheel. It's a good thing I'm flat chested!!

Best part of that story, I had complained that the transmission was on the fritz and dad blew me off. Then one day mom says, "Nik, why do you sit in the street every morning? You're gonna get hit ya know." WHAT?! Um, HELLO! Mom, I've been complaining about this problem for a month. I'm not gonna get hit, I'm gonna DIE!

If it had rained the night before, oh you could just forget it! That blasted heap would give me fits just for trying to start it. Then it would proceed to accelerate at negative snails pace while backfiring repeatedly for about 10 minutes. Just until she got warmed up and stopped changing gears. What an obstinate piece of machinery. Dad was like "needs spark plugs". We were so far beyond spark plugs....what it needed was a good beating with a hammer. A good kick in its van pants.

The passenger side window broke about the time I started driving and my dad's solution was absolutely awesome. He ripped off the door panel and crammed a piece of wood under the window to hold it up. He failed to put the door panel back on, so I drove around for a good year with a door panel in the back seat. You had to be careful in the passenger seat, or you'd risk tetanus when you sliced your leg on some bit of rogue metal.

I'm pretty sure I was still in junior high when the A/C blew, so it was pretty steamy in the Party Wagon. This is how we came to judge the effectiveness of certain deodorants. If you could ride in the van and not come out sweaty, that brand was a keeper.

To say that the alignment was off is a severe understatement. You had to turn the wheel 180 degrees just to keep the darn thing in a straight line. While it didn't leak oil, that hunk of junk leaked power steering fluid like it was it's job! Eventually I got tired of buying a bottle every other day, so I went without power steering. How old school of me. The driver seat was wobbly because I broke it with my head when we got rear ended on the way home from school one day. I also had an imprint of a Buick symbol in the back and a spare tire with a bent rim thanks to that idiot.

The van's terminal velocity should have been 55 m.p.h., because that's when the shaking started. When I say shaking, I'm talking serious tremors here. However, I will NEVER forget the shakes it had when I buried the needle all those times on the ramp from 275 to 75 north. Gotta get home on time yo! Just for humor: the needle buried in the van at 85 m.p.h. (136.8 kilometers per hour for those of you who go metric!).

By the time this party was all said and done there had been a fire in the alternator, power steering was a thing I only dreamed about, only 1 of the doors would cooperate with the power locks, one of the running boards was falling off (Dear Brandon, if something is being held together by rust you probably shouldn't stand on it), and it took some serious muscle to get that sliding door shut. Not to mention the fact that the summer before my senior year I barely drove it because the battery died, the starter AND the starter relay switch just gave up. None of this stopped me from pimping my ride with a little quarter machine happy face stuck to the dashboard & my dashboard dancing hula doll.

Why did I drive this car? Because it was free and I loved it, in my own way. Besides, I didn't know better.

Only in Cincinnati..

Only in Cincinnati (and probably Detroit) would a crime like this happen: Someone drove by the Mosque in Clifton, rolled down their car window (hand crank I sincerely hope!) and yelled, "Ya'll gonna get bombed!". If you are going to terrorize a group of Muslims, screaming that they're "gonna get bombed" out of your car window is probably not the best way to go about it. Ever heard the word jihad? Not that I'm advocating terrorist actions against Muslims, maybe Buddhists, but not Muslims. (I'm kidding!! Seriously, I'm midwest, but I'm not a redneck.)

"Westwood Concern" e-mails Aaron frequently to let him know the happenings of the Westside. My concern is why haven't we burned it down and start over yet, but no one cares to address my concerns. Never once is it mentioned "Police have found the perpetrators of a home invasion on February 10," so until THAT concern is addressed Westwood can stick it as far as I'm concerned. That being said, this current concern is pretty awesome. It initially talks about how the citizens of Westwood were desirous for change and peace during the riots and they just want city politicians to stop talking about building a jail and just do it. A meeting was proposed in Westwood, in order to make it more convenient for citizens to attend. I guess fearing that real citizens with opinions and ideas might attend said meeting (rather than those people city council pays to think like them), this meeting location has been changed. It will now be at someone's office (i don't pay THAT much attention) at 6th and Court St. When was the last time anyone with half a brain cell ran around 6th and Court at night? The last time I was near Court Street was when Aaron worked right in the heart of Over the Rhine. I was crossing the street to get to my car and a "friendly" local yelled at me, "Go on cross da street CRACKA!" I guess he was friendly..I mean, he didn't outright shoot me, or rape me, or steal my car. That's more than I can say for the Westwood locals, you know, the people who desire all this change. I see two sides of this coin: If you're REALLY a concerned citizen, you'd be at that meeting regardless of it's proximity to your home. However, would I personally attend a meeting on Court street at night? Heck no. This cracka don't play that.


As my father always said, "No good deed goes unpunished," and we all know father knows best. After a night of drinking, some BOOB snatched a purse outside of a local pub. Brandon Morris, a 25 year old would-be Superman attempted to recover the purse, only to be shot by said purse snatcher. Not only did this purse snatching boob shoot Brandon, he proceeded to chase him up the street and shoot him in the head! Brandon went from Good Samaritan to martyr in less than 60 seconds. The moral of this story is NOT helping others gets you nothing but dead, because God knows and his sense of humor is unparalleled. I sincerely hope this uber goon gets nothing but a handful of Canadian change and an old stick of Fruit Stripe gum with a hair stuck to it in that purse. Because THAT'S karma.....

"Independent" Married Women

As promised, here is the first installment in my series of things that make me rage. "Independent" married women. Why does this make me rage? Because I hate stupid, that's why.

Marriage is defined as a unity and mutual action. On the other hand, independence is non-contingent on someone or something else and non-dependent upon another entity. The very idea that someone is independent AND involved in a mutual partnership is an oxy-moron and an irony that I simply cannot ignore.

By very definitiion, a truly independent woman is not married I do not feel I'm disgracing my gender by claiming myself as a dependent woman. I AM! That's why I got married in the first place, because I know I need Aaron (and all of his money!), and I enjoy the togetherness of marriage. I enjoy the partnership & joint decision making. If you are functioning independently of your spouse, you are the reason the divorce rate is 50% in this country. Oh yeah that's right, I did say it! You can't expect to just be out doing your own thing all the time and have a healthy marriage. There's no partnership in independence. If you want to be an independent woman then throw another bra on the fire and do it! Don't skip around behind this American dream-like facade of happy marriages and picket fences just to show everyone how grown up you are (I'm a big kid, look what I can do..I can hire a lawyer too). Oil and water don't mix kids, that's just basic chemistry (my blogs are angsty AND educational. Fun for the whole family!)

Just to drive my point home, I'll throw the Bible at you. Both Genesis and Ephesians (old school AND new school Bible, so it must be true) say to leave your parents and cling to your spouse. NOT cling to the idea of a marriage or those 15 people you around and act pretentious with, because that's a self-righteous game I just don't play.

Frankie Goes To Hollywood, and Teaches Us Important Things

It has come to my attention that some people take life too seriously. I mean, they actually get upset when they can't control their job, or their friends, or their spouse had the nerve to do something without first being given approval. I mean, these people will even take their Myspace seriously. Um, it's an internet playground, maybe it should be taken with a grain of salt. I guess what I'm really talking about is the fact that there are people who feel the need (and actually belive it's possible) to control absolutely every aspect of their life and everyone in every situation they encounter. These are the people that could easily make me claw my face off with a spork.

I think we should all just learn to accept that fact that you cannot control all variables of a situation. I'll say it again for the mentally impaired: YOU CANNOT CONTROL ALL VARIABLES OF A SITUATION. Did you get it that time? It's like that old saying, you can pick your nose, you can pick your friends, but you can't pick your friend's nose. You love it and you know it.

Take a wedding for example: You spend months upon months planning for this event, but regardless of how much over-planning you do, you cannot control everything that happens on that day. Trust me when I say this. I spent 7 months watching my mom freak out about my wedding (I was so over it) and when the day arrived, crazy things that none of us would've had the forethought to plan for happened. What did we do? Let it go. Why? Because that's how we roll . Anyone who says their wedding went off without a hitch is probably either lying or totally oblivious to the situations at hand. You can over control the guest list, the photographer, the DJ's choice of song, the type of ceremony, and the food served. But, you cannot control a large group of people in an awkward situation. Someone uninvited might just show up, and you need to just let it go. One of those friends you thought would behave mught just have an incredibly low alcohol tolerance, and they might get really drunk. This might lead them to dance the Macarena all night (even though the song NEVER played), steal someone's coat and wear it around like a cape, and eventually end up passed out in their own vomit in the bed of someone else's pick-up truck. YOU CAN'T STOP THAT! Besides, why would you want to? I mean, the humor value is definately 10 out of 10. P.S. this is on of the 23.5 reasons I didn't have alcohol at my wedding.

I just can't express my total annoyance in words how much control freaks bother me. You cannot plan for everything, nor can you control all situations. Learn to relax, you might find yourself happier and with more friends. Stop worrying, it's not worth it. Learn to laugh at yourself. Honestly, the day I stop laughing at my special ed self is the day I hope to die. There's humor to be found in all situations, even gran theft auto. Take Frankie's advice and relax.

A Blog Series, Coming Soon To A Lame Near You

I've decided to start an actual series of blogs. If you can have a book series, you can have a blog series. I said it, therefore it is so. The title of this series will come as no surprise to some of you: Things That Make Me RAGE. This series will be on-going at my discretion, because this is my domain where I am blog master. Stay Tuned.

Upcoming postings in this series: (a little preview for your palates)
- "independent" married women - there's an irony here that I simply cannot ignore.
- cell phone drivers - I've been raging this hardcore since like 1999, but now it's a whole new brand of explosion.
- people who post their phone numbers on myspace - are you stupid or something? do you want to get raped? Well, do ya?!

American Bordem At It's Creepiest!

Ok, I'm not really sure whether to award this kid douche bag of the week or not, but because it's Friday and there might not be anything else lame to happen this week, let's just give it out. Yeah, that's me..always giving it out...you dirty fools.

Apparently some douche in Vermont got bored (no kidding, that's his real excuse) and decided to break into a tomb, cut off some old guy's head and try to make it into a bong. JIGGA HUH?! Now, we all know I'm all about dead people, but cutting off their heads for illegal drug purposes? That's a game I'm just not playing. I have standards yo! Fo' Sho!

What does robbing a tomb for a dead head (no pun intended) in Vermont get you? 2 felony counts and somewhere between 1 to 7 years in prison (BINGO! credit for 14 months served while awaiting trial. Le sigh, that's our justice system). Not only did this weirdo steal a human head, he also stole a bow tie and the man's glasses. I guess he figured head, neck..it's all connected, why not just take it all?

Bragging to your friends after you steal a head, not a great idea. Isn't this how all dumb criminals get caught? Running your mouth about a crime you just committed is an excellent way to get arrested, so take note my felon friends.

Best part: A psychiatrist has diagnosed this kid with "mental health issues". Do we need a psychiatrist in this situation? Let's recap a little Cain and Able situation from here in Cincinnati. Cain beats Able to death with a baseball bat, then walks into the middle of a busy street in Hyde Park to wash the blood off in huge fountain. Then, while he's still dazed and confused he walks across the street to the fire station and says, "someone killed my brother". Um yeah psycho, it was you..we all saw the blood. Now, did they really need not one, not two, but NINE psychiatrists to examine this kid and say, "Yep, severe mental illness"?? NO! He killed his brother and then took a bath in the town square! Was there no other way to waste tax dollars?

Moral of the story, if you steal a human head out of a tomb and plan to smoke pot out of it, you're disturbed. I don't need medical school to know this, it's just common sense. You don't grave rob because you got bored. Also, if you do it and you are my friend, don't tell me about it. I'll think less of you as i'm turning you in, and I won't even try to hide it.

Porqué Amo Aeropuertos!

I was looking over the intinerary for our upcoming trip to the Lonestart state and I realized I might be spending just as much time in airports as I will be spending in Texas. While airports can create an eye-bleedingly, painful experience, you have to make the best of it. Why do I love airports? It's PRIME grounds for people watching, second only to the streets of Las Vegas, which isn't even a fair comparison all things considered. Allow me to share an airport story with you. It will reinforce my love of the airport.

Pre-Sept. 11 days, when you were allowed to go back to the gates and wait for people, my family was waiting for my brother and his wife to fly in from Denver. Unbeknownst to any of us, there were issues in Denver and they weren't even ON the flight from Denver to Cincinnati, but that's an irrelevant part of my story. We had been sitting in the airport for almost 3 hours, dad was sound asleep and snoring loudly in an airport chair. I swear, that man can sleep anywhere (Hmm, I wonder where I get it?) and mom and I were doing our usual, pointing and laughing at people. That whole "if you can't say nothing nice" line..not used in my home.

So there was this guy, he was an obvious business man. He comes strutting off his plane looking incredibly pretentious with his rolly suitcase and his nose in the air. Then he walks into the bathroom, the LADIES bathroom. So mom and I are, of course, dying laughing. Then, he comes out about 15 seconds later with a 10 foot toilet paper tail hanging off his suitcase. Mom and I were in tears.

And THAT is why I love airports. There's too many people in too small of space, someone is bound to do something retarded. I think my turn is coming, stay tuned.

Now, just for fun (or not fun), some airport awards:

Airport with the most ridiculously tight security & Worst airport to vomit in:
Des Moines International - Des Moines, Iowa
Seriously, I wouldn't lie about that stuff. They frisked my 82 year old grandma there. And, I'd rather not talk about the vomit thing....

Lamest Airport Decor:
Detroit Metropolitan Wayne County Airport - Detroit, Michigan
It has these weird color tunnels you have to walk through. It's like a bad verson of Fremont Street.

Worst Flight EVER!! -
Cincinnati, Ohio - Richmond, Virginia.
I'm sure you remember that one Kristen. For everyone who WASN'T frantically scribbling their will and looking for lawyers, notaries, and ministers on this flight, it was more like riding a school bus over 1,000 speed bumps. HORRIBLE!!!!!

Airport with the most ridiculously LENIENT security -
TIE: Greater Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky International - Erlanger, Kentucky & Philadelphia International Airport - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
Both of these airports allowed me to fly without a state issued I.D...over Thanksgiving. Aaron hasn't let me handle my own license in an airport since this trip...