Randomocity

This has been a week where the creative juices are...just... not... flowing. I don't know if it's the "dog days of summer", the brain effort required on the new job, or just burning out on the whole blog thing. I want to write, and there are so many more stories to tell. I'm just waiting for one to break through wanting to be told. So I'm just going to throw metaphysical pasta against the wall and see what sticks. Maybe a snippet here or there will tweak the brain and a full blog will emerge later. Maybe all will be ignored. I just don't like to fill space for the implicit purpose of filling space. Or, is that what you want? The experiment starts...

Our local newspaper sucks, especially the sports section. Usually a whopping eight pages long, it mostly contains local high school, junior college, and other local sport happenings, not that it shouldn't have that. The Super Bowl was on the front page, but other big to-dos are usually regulated to the back two pages. We're in the final third of the season for baseball (Go Tigers!), and all we get are box scores. Golf gets scant coverage unless one of the local contingent is in the top 30. Football training camps are starting and we get no info, except for Pacman Jones's problems. Tennis (my sport of choice) rated maybe 6 paragraphs for Wimbledon.

Drivers here make me crazy. Although this area hardly makes the "Top Ten" of bad places to drive, it still grates. The locals have established themselves as the master of the Left Lane Block. Because there are long, straight roads in places, like the bridges, you see long lines of two cars driving side-by-side, with vast empty spaces in front of them, and long, compacted lines trailing behind. I've lived in some of the worst places for traffic (Long Island, Boston, Detroit, Miami), but it's asinine when there's no traffic really, but everyone is behind these bozos. (It's hard to believe I'm complaining about my 25-minute commute, but it could be only 20)

Writing checks should be against the law. Before I moved here, I could count on one hand the number of people writing checks I've seen in the last five years. It's now a daily occurrence. Hello, it's 2007! I'd bet my left nut that even the Amish in Pennsylvania are using debit cards by now. I use exactly one check a month for rent, and I wouldn't do that if possible.

The homeless here have no shame. We have dudes who wave this sign, "Why should I lie? I want a beer!". And dip-shits still give them dollars! At least in South Florida, they were selling things, like wilted roses or week-old papers. For some reason that seems justifiable, but just sitting there with a little cardboard sign just doesn't cut it with me. I'm the biggest bleeding-heart liberal you'll find, but those people will find no compassion from me.

This city has the best DMV I've ever experienced. EVER! Not only did I never wait over 15 minutes upon arrival, but they were friendly. They smiled, they chatted, and just seemed like what city employees should. I've never seen that before in my life. And I've had my driver's license since 1974.

I've never seen more litter in my life. I've seen this subject in the local paper, but, Christ Almighty, I've never seen people with more dis-respect for their area than these. I can just imagine what someone vacationing here from Europe must think. Hello, people! Hurricane Ivan was almost three years ago. That McDonalds cup on the side of the road is not hurricane related. Take ownership for once.

Bloggers need to take "ownership" of their sites. There are some bloggers that I've followed, and will now delete, who I've never seen reply in the comments section. Are you too good with your 150-and-more comments to at least make a small reply? How much of your "valuable" time would it take to say "thank you", or"f--k you" or something? Many bloggers actually take the time to reply. Or are you too good?

This season's TOP CHEF may get good soon. The remaining "chefs" look pretty capable. Even more so than prior years. Even though I dislike Dale's faux-hawk, I'm pulling for him. There are so few gays (besides Dave "I'm not your bitch, bitch!") in the kitchen world as it is. Don't let us down! And stay away from the desserts, bitch!

How to turn lurkers into commenters. Please, people! If you read me, leave a comment! I don't care if it's a bad, indifferent, or good comment. I just want to know if I touched you in some way. Or else, it's all for nothing.

The less we hear of Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, Nicole Ritchie, etc., the better. 'Nuff said.


That's it for now. Did I waste your time? I hope not. Would you like to comment? I sincerely hope so! I see how many have visited this site, but not many have commented outside my circle of "blog-friends". What's stopping you?