Leave my leaves where I left them! And the rake, too!

As we have entered the day of "tough economic times" I have gotten used to people trolling my neighborhood asking to do odd jobs. Every time I let my lawn grow an inch too high I get a steady stream of people knocking at my door asking if they can mow until I get tired of answering them and do it myself. I had one guy offer to trim the branches on my tree as I, myself, was trimming the branches on my tree. That one kind of confused me. But this past week I had one that may have topped that, even. A guy knocked on my door and asked if he could rake the leaves in my yard. Never mind the fact that there was already a pile of leaves in the front yard, indicating the fact that the job had already been started. There was also a rake on my front porch, which he had picked up when he knocked on the door. This guy was trying to get me to pay him to use MY rake to rake the leaves that had already been partially raked with said rake. Then he almost took the damn rake when he left! For people like this I really feel like I should just keep a bottle of Wild Irish Rose next to my front door, hand it to them, and cut out the middle man. Maybe Thunderbird. Do they still sell Thunderbird? How about NightTrain?

This may not even be an issue if not for the fact that perfectly capable human beings have gotten into the habit of actually paying to have work done that they themselves could just as easily accomplish, barring extreme laziness. I work in a field where I help people who cannot help themselves with many of life's daily tasks. These people want nothing more than to be able to do those things themselves. Meanwhile, perfectly mentally and physically capable people in this world just want "someone to do it for them" or "someone to take care of them". I cannot reconcile that in my head any more than I can figure out why someone would assume I would need someone to use my rake to rake my yard, which had already been partially raked. Hey, sometimes I even feel guilty about letting a waitress bring me a drink in a resteraunt. "Hey, just point me in the right direction and I'll get it myself". Come to think of it, that'd cut down on the tip, too. And, in these "tough economic times" we all need to do what we can to save a little cash, right? Even doing "menial tasks" like mowing lawns and raking leaves ourselves, if you're into that sort of thing.

I just kind of like to leave most of the leaves laying about the yard. Why do you think they call them "leaves"? Let the wind carry them away. In fact, the neighbor really likes to rake, I say give him a little extra work. Brighten his day a little. But what about that partial pile of leaves that I mentioned at the beginning, you ask? That was just there for the requisite "children playing in the pile of leaves" photo op that parents feel the need to have every year. And that, as they say, is the rest of the story.

Cell phone overload

What did we do before cell phones invaded every facet of our lives? Without the constant chatter of people talking on their cell phones I would never have known that the 250-pound woman in the t-shirt with "Flirt" written in sparkly gold letters who was in the same reception area as me yesterday was mad at Jake. I never would've known that Jake's dog that he left there for her kids had bit her daughter "on the tit" (classy) or that he wasn't following up on taking care of it like he promised. I wouldn't have known that he wanted that TV in her "front room" or that she was looking for someone who could help her move because "you know lifting them boxes hurts [her] back".

I also wouldn't have known that the woman sitting in front of me was taking a break from working on a history paper, that listening to someone lecture on history is more fun than reading a history book, that she wanted her friend to "watch House for her" since she wouldn't be able to see the show this week, or that the woman on the OTHER end of the phone (who was talking entirely too loudly) wasn't "getting any" from her man this week.

I don't know any of these people, I don't WANT to know them, and I can't figure out why they, and so many others these days, think there's nothing wrong with inviting perfect strangers into their weird lives with such loud and personal discussions in public places.

Does anyone else long for the days when cell phones were the exclusive domain of oil tycoons, government agents, fortune 500 executives, Paul E. Dangeroulsy, and Zach Morris? Okay, maybe not. But can't we at least all agree on some type of cell phone etiquette to prevent a chronic case of TMI (too much information) from overtaking the population?

Does Megan Fox Dream Of Electric Sheep?

I have so many random topics floating around in my head that I have no idea where to start. Among them: my Michael Jackson murder theory, why Stan Lee's Silver Surfer books from the 60s are the best comics ever published, the strange stupidity that men do (like the guy I just heard about who lost part of his finger when he was loading a toygun with gun powder. I'm sure he had a good reason. Right?), the fact that you can go to just about ANY message board on IMDB and see a Big Lebowski reference, and lots of other stuff that probably explains why I have trouble getting anything productive done some days.

I believe I'll deal with this Megan Fox character first. Since anyone reading this is on the internet I know you know who she is. Go do a (insert name of your search engine here) search and take a look at some photos of Ms. Fox (yeah, like any guy reading this is going to have to be told twice). Pretty, without question, but tell me she doesn't look like an android. A computer generated image at best. There's no life in the girl's eyes, her face is typically devoid of anything resembling a real human emotion, and her skin is eerily flawless. All signs point to some form of engineering outside of the typical plastic form seen in most Hollywood starlets. Interviews with her seem to bear this theory out as well. If she doesn't sound somewhat robotic to you, well then we're not listening to the same person. I think someone is off to the side typing responses into a computer and hitting "send" every time she talks.

Of course, maybe she's just one of those impossibly pretty girls who have never been forced by society to cultivate any real talent or personality because guys just love to stare at her and say, "wow, she so purty. Here, take my money" (The fact that this technique has worked so well for so many women for so many centuries lends heavy credibility to those who argue the superiority of the female of the species. ). But hey, what's the fun in that? I say she's an android and that's the bottom line!

Don't get me wrong: I'm not judging her and I don't begrudge her anything she earns or is given in this world. I say take what you can get as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else and, in the scheme of things, I don't see anything too horribly wrong with anything she's done. Except those tattoos.

What IS with the tattoos? Women who go for the newest trend in putting oddly placed blocks of text all over their bodies need to realize that, although we appreciate their attempts to bolster teenage literacy, it is nothing but a distraction and it just looks strange. Also, they will have to live with the mis-spelled words for the rest of the life of their mortal bodies (see Hayden Panetierre). "We will all laugh at gilded butterflies"? WTF is that supposed to be, Megan? Who the hell wants to look at a hot girl and have to READ at the same time? It's like taking a Picasso and adding a couple of dogs playing poker across the bottom. Girls, QUIT DRAWING ON YOURSELVES!

Okay, I think I'm done for now. Pretty much I figure typing Megan Fox into my blog over and over again will get a few hits, anyway. First I hook 'em in, you see, THEN we can get to the good stuff.