Tough Love for Dummies

I am a very polite and caring person. Shut up fuckers, I am!! Really!! Well…okay…

I am very polite and caring until someone gives me a reason not to be, um…polite and caring.

Stay with me folks, and allow me to ‘splain, OK?

Say I am cruising down Aisle 3 at the grocery, looking for that ever elusive sale on French Onion soup and some jerk is parked in the middle of the aisle staring at the gay, latest craze, low sodium, no taste soup.

I say…

Excuse me sir/ma'am.” and I get ignored..

I can’t get around them, so I say again…

“Excuse Me!!”

This time I am heard. Oh Praise the Baby Jeebus!!

Okay wait…I guess I wasn’t actually heard in the mental processing sense, it merely elicited a head turn, a glare, and then a 180 back to looking at the cans of low sodium, pussy soup. I ask myself…What Would Jesus Do?

Personally, I don’t fucking care. I shove their damn cart out of the way. See how where I was polite and then I wasn’t? Onward…

Let’s now go get some fuel for the Bagwine Mobile.

I’m at the gas station filling up ye old tank (‘cause Mahone won’t fucking do it for me, the bastard) when what do I hear over the speaker?

“Please turn off your cell phone prior to pumping gas.”

I don’t have a cell phone (product of the Devil, I tell ya.), so I look to my right and there is a woman talking on her phone with the pump stuck up the gasshole of her ginormous SUV.

I think…

Yo Bitch, do you not see the fucking signs? Can you not hear the clerk? Do you not know that Gas + Cell Phone = BOOM!! Fucktard!! 

But does she get off the phone even after the second announcement?

Why no…no, she doesn’t.

So, being the concerned citizen that I am, I yell…

“Hey Dumbfuck, are you that stupid? Turn your God Damn phone off. What? Are you trying to blow us all up?”

You’re probably thinking…this chick is polite and caring? Why hasn’t she had the hell beat out of her by now? You know why?

I’m doing the Lord’s work.

Ha. Actually it’s because I have been damn lucky. I run into this shit everywhere, and I am sure you do too. 

Are people really this stupid or are they just oblivious to everyone, but themselves? Sadly, I am thinking the latter.

So kids…be polite and caring in your everyday dealings with people. Until it’s time not to.

I feel better now, and…I think I might be getting better at this gig, or not.

See you tomorrow, you pretty people, you.

Zooooves!!

Only By Super-Human Willpower, Am I Not Incarcerated

Well folks…Tuesday night it almost happened.

Between 6:30 PM and 8:59 PM, and for the first time in over 2 years of working there, the Beer Mine nearly got the best of me.

I almost cracked. I almost cried…

I almost took my own life along with the lives of any customers in my proximity.

My face looked like that in the picture you see…A mélange of sorrow, despair, confusion, and unadulterated anger.

The day was long, but had been quite slow up until 6:30. Just a few cars here, a few cars there. Nothing exciting, and then?

The clock struck 6:30 and every stupid motherfucker in Bagwine, Ohio and some from parts beyond, showed up at the Beer Mine.

Customers drove through asking, “What do you have on sale?” “How much is that, and that, and that?”

And one of the ultimate stupid questions: “What kind of pop do you have?” To which I want to always respond…

“See those well-lit coolers on either side of your car that have colorful plastic bottles inside of them? That’s what fucking kind of pop we have, you fucking moron!!”

I also not once, but three times, got the classic…

“Could I get a pack of Marlboro Lights?”

And after getting them, ringing them up, and bringing them to the moron in question, I would hear the following…

“Do you have these in 100’s?”

Oh Dear God, the Stupid!! The stupid, along with my anger, was growing faster and thicker than a patch of crabgrass juiced up on Miracle-Gro.

And the cars never stopped coming. It was if an entire week’s worth of business was being compressed into a mere two and a half hours.

At about a quarter til’ nine I locked up the Ice Machine, and wouldn’t you know it…Two seconds later, some goofy old fuck drives in and wants a 25 pound bag of ice.

I wanted to say to him…

“It’s Tuesday night at 8:45 PM, why in the Hell do you need a huge ass bag of ice? Are you storing the body parts of your mom, who you just machete’d to death?”

And then…oh yeah, bitches, and then these two barely 19 year old chicks pulled in with six minutes left before closing.

I knew I was in trouble when they pulled in because I could immediately see the wonderment in their empty eyes…

It was as though I was looking at two kids who had just walked into Willy Wonka’s factory and were mesmerized by its beauty.

They looked at each bottle and asked questions about iced tea, Propel water, and…the price of gum. I longed to scream…

“If you two ass clowns want to look at every God Damn item in a place, go to the fucking grocery store!!”

But I didn’t, and they finally made their purchase…A lemonade and a XXX Vitamin Water.

I managed to make it through the night without killing anyone. I like that, and I am calmer now because I came home with this…

A bottle of Rose and a huge delicious slab of homemade Lasagna that Drive-By Mikey’s wife had made.

But, let me tell you...if I wasn’t off today and had to go back into the Mine with people like they were Tuesday night…

Someone would surely die.

Cheers!!

Stupidity and Enlightenment

Oh my friends, what an exhausting day I had at the Beer Mine on Tuesday…Wow.

It wasn’t so much physically exhausting as it was mentally exhausting. I was really busy, but that doesn’t bother me at all.

It was the level of stupid and annoying I was encountering from the patrons. Holy Shit!!

Do you have charcoal? What kind of hot dogs do you have? How much is your ice cream?

Folks…we sell beer, pop, and smokes. The name of the place pretty well spells that out, and here’s the topper from yesterday.

Smelly Lady w/a Cold Sore on Her Lip and a Screaming Kid: Do you have chocolate milk?

Me: No, ma’am. We do not sell milk at all.

Smelly Lady w/a Cold Sore on Her Lip and a Screaming Kid: Do you have white milk?

Of course there was also an older man who wanted a bottle of pop. When I told him the price of said bottle of pop, he went ballistic.

This was later in the evening, so at this point I just laughed maniacally, for I knew being pissed off, offered me little emotional relief.

On top of that, It was evident to me that this man had not been out of his house since the Nixon Administration and was unaware of the fact that prices on things have increased somewhat since 1973.

Oy. Anyhoo…

All of this stupidity reminded of something. In a little under two weeks, May 4th to be exact, Ohioans will be going to the polls and voting in our 2010 Primary elections.

And I, after 27 years of being a registered Democrat will be registering as an Independent. And why is that? Because of what I just mentioned, stupidity.

Not on my part of course, but on the part of not only the Democratic party but the Republican party as well.

It has to me become quite evident that the Democratic party has been hijacked by far left loons like Keith Olbermann and Rachel Maddow and the GOP has been hijacked by right wing nuts like Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin.

It does not make me happy to leave the party.

I have for years successfully run campaigns in Ohio and West By God Virginia for many a Democrat, but while I am and always will be a Liberal, I am not a far left ideologue.

So, on May 4th I will, as an Independent, not be allowed to vote in the Democratic Primary, but will only be able to vote on a local Library tax levy issue and a tax renewal issue involving our local Elderly United organization.

Not very sexy, but it has come to this and it makes sense considering who I am and how I think.

After all, while I dig me the Holy Baby Jeebus, I loathe organized religion regardless of the denomination, so it makes sense that while I love politics, I have come to loathe any and all party affiliations.

I feel the need to make a joke now; a big hilarious finish...but while I do feel somewhat liberated, I feel sour now as well.

I do take my politics seriously.

Cheers!!

Stupid Begets Stupid

“Modern history would have one believe that the blacks were the only group ever forced into slavery!

The main concern is how they were treated, were they clothed and fed well, and were they allowed an education?

I get angry when I see the truth violated like that.”

--Amazing Gracie

After yet another infantile, and ideological post by Bagwine’s favorite crazy man, Uncle Charlie, another fave crazy person, in the toxic personification of “Amazing Gracie” chimed in with the above comment on Charlie’s uber-rightwing site.

Yes, I know…These idiots are small potatoes. Instead of uber-tubers, they are kinder-tubers, but nonetheless, I felt that Gracie’s comment was so, um…stupid..?

No, that’s not the right word…Um…So fucking hateful, oblivious, and mindless that I had to comment.

Gracie in all of her self-proclaimed Christianity, we should turn Afghanistan into a Glass Factory, God Loves Us Best Bullshit, thinks that our slaves were better off than others.

Does she really, as she implied, think that slavery was better in America because of some ill-conceived notion that "our" slaves were fed, clothed, and um…educated?

Educated?

Did the slaves go to slave school? Did they get a degree in bondage?

Okay, maybe the house niggers did, but unless a slave was cleaning Uncle Tom’s cabin, did that education really come in handy?

Have right wing, tea baggin’, assholes like Gracie, really disintegrated this far?

And before you say it…I don’t have a side. And I don’t want to hear about left wing idiots like Olbermann and Maddow. They illustrate their lunacy every night.

I’m talkin’ about “conservative, God-Fearing, patriots” like Gracie…Are they truly any of those things? Are they conservative..are they God-Fearing patriots?

I don’t fuckin’ think so.

I think they are idiots who, if there is a Hell, they are going there. And, folks like Gracie are going to spend eternity sucking Jerry Falwell’s dick ad infinitum.

Poetic Justice. After all…

A limp dick not only deserves, but requires a limp mind to feed upon it.

Cheers!!

Can't We All Just Get Along...And Quickly?

It has been warm here in Bagwine of late, which means the last two days at the Beer Mine, especially Tuesday night, have been damn busy.

It’s great to have oodles of business, but it was quite evident that many people who are just now coming out of hibernation have forgotten the rules of the Beer Mine. So…

I thought this would be a perfect time to re-visit the rules in order to make your trip through the Beer Mine speedy and enjoyable for yourself, the staff, and the customers in the cars behind you. M’kay?

First off, an easy one. Drive-By Mikey’s Golden Rule: No complaining…especially about the prices. If you complain about our prices, you will be told, “Well, Speedway’s down the street.”

If you have three kids with you DO NOT wait until you pull in to ask, “What do you want kids?”

If you do this, you will forever be hated not only by us but the other customers waiting patiently. If the kids don’t know, make their damn minds up for them. Quit spoiling the rotten little shits.

Another good way to speed things up for everyone, is to know if you have money PRIOR to pulling in and ordering.

Call me crazy, but when I go to buy something, I usually know if I have money on me. Just sayin’.

This leads to a related rule…Know where your goddamn money is. Don’t order and wait until I get back with everything to stick your sweaty hand into a purse the size of a hefty bag looking for your money. Have it at the ready.

And please…if your order comes to, oh let’s say…$15.34? Don’t hand me a 20 and then say, “Hold on, I think I have 34 cents in here. It’ll help you out.”

It doesn’t help me out; the time you take to root around for cum stained pennies pisses me off. And those behind you even more so.

Oh by the way…DO NOT wait until we gather up all of your shit, ring it up, and then bring it to you to ask, “You take debit and/or credit cards right?” We don’t. You might want to ask that when you first pull in, Einstein.

Knowing EXACTLY what you want helps too. If you tell me that you want a pack of Marlboro Menthols and I bring them to you and then you ask, “Do you have these in 100’s?”, my answer will of course be, “no.” While I am pretty fucking amazing, I’m not Kreskin.

DO NOT ask us, “What kind of pop do you have?”

We only have a few pop coolers and they are quite visible so just look around quickly sport. Unless of course you are a blind fucker, which leads me to the next rule…

If you are blind, you shouldn’t be driving and going through the Beer Mine.

I may enjoy you as a customer, but really…when there is a line of cars behind you, I do not have time to hear how your wife left you, how you got VD from your dog, or the smell of your weepy abscess. Get your beer and move along.

If we ask you for your ID, and you say, “Well, how old do you think I am?” Know this…We really don’t fucking care, as long as you are old enough to buy smokes and/or alcohol.

If you want us to go outside during a thunderstorm to get you a bag of ice, we will say, “I’m sorry; we’re out.”

And lastly (for now) if I scan something and it doesn’t ring up the first time, I don’t want to hear for the 10,000th time:

“Hee Hee…If it didn’t scan the first time it’s free.” If that happens and you say that, it’s not only not free, the price just went up 100% and I will pee all over your tires.

I hope that these guidelines can help us all have a more enjoyable upcoming summer at the Beer Mine.

The owner and staff of the Beer Mine appreciate your attention.

Cheers!!

Ohio State Buckeyes vs. Michigan Wolverines: A Case Study in Stupid

If you are merely a casual College Football fan, or if you are one who resides in either Ohio or Michigan, you know what tomorrow is.

Tomorrow is the annual Ohio State Buckeyes/Michigan Wolverines football game.

Although I am a lifelong denizen of the Buckeye State, I unlike most Ohioans, really don’t give a crap who wins. I am one of the minority in these two states that loathes both teams.

Why, you ask? Well, let me ‘splain…

I’m not a fan of the Michigan Wolverine football team because number one…They are a yearly opponent and foe of my beloved yet hapless, Notre Dame Quasi-Fighting Irish.

But, my detest for Michigan runs much deeper than the shallowness of a football rivalry.

You see, from 1835-36 the State of Ohio nearly went to war with the Territory of Michigan in order to see which entity would control a strip of land that contained the City of Toledo.

Both sides assembled and readied militias…the bloodlust for war was waxing, and shots were periodically fired across the Maumee River. Fortunately…

The Federal government stepped in and settled the “war” before any lives were lost. The Territory of Michigan was granted statehood and the mineral rich and beautiful Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Ohio?

Ohio was granted the strip of land that contains the City of Toledo. If you have ever been to Toledo, you know why Ohioans like myself, are to this day, totally pissed off about this ruling and still hate Michigan.

As for my disdain for the Ohio State Buckeyes? One reason, and two words…THEIR FANS.

Ohio State Buckeye football fans as my friend Jay put it the other day, are INSUFFERABLE.

They’re kooks…They’re uber-obnoxious. And…They believe that God put THE Ohio State University on this Earth in order to win the NCAA National Football Championship every fucking year.

Oh Dear God, They…Are…Horrid.

Take for instance this year…OSU fans are up in arms over the fact that the University of Cincinnati is ranked ahead of them in the polls. This fact rocks their world because as we all should know, there is only one college football team in Ohio.

It can be summed up by a quote I read in a Sports Illustrated piece that focused on the two fine QBs at the Univ. of Cincinnati. An OSU fan wrote in response to the article:

“If those two guys were really any good, OSU would have snatched them up out of High School.” Whatever.

Of course this year like every year, every local TV affiliate out of Columbus has the Countdown to Kickoff Clock at the bottom of the screen. All of the news anchors are dressed in Scarlet and Gray and they are donning necklaces made from buckeyes.

And of course every anchor and every OSU fan in Ohio refers to the football team as, “us.” Y’know, like they’re part of the team.

Stop it…Just fucking stop it. Stupid and living vicariously through others is no way to go through life you obnoxious bastards!!

Anyhoo…

As I do every year, I will watch the game tomorrow. I will be rooting for Michigan, because here is how this event goes with me.

Michigan is 5-6 and Ohio State is 9-2. In this game, I always root for the team that will hurt the other in terms of success. If the records were reversed I would root for OSU.

There is an added benefit of seeing OSU losing tomorrow to Michigan.

If the Buckeyes lose, I can turn on the Six O’clock News out of Columbus and I will see every anchor on every station crying their eyes out and screaming, “Oh, The Humanity!! How Could This Happen!?”

If you have never experienced this sight…You are missing one of the funniest things in both football and TV journalism.

I do love it so.

Cheers!!

Store Security...Report to the Soup Aisle at Once!!

Greetings from Schmoop and Dave.

This week, we’re combining his, Dig It, With David and my, Dispatches from my Ass segments.

I guess we’ll call it, Dig It From My Ass, David. Ha!!

We’re going to take you to the Grocery Store with us. Won’t this be a fun ride?

My brother Dave and I go to the grocery store (either Wal-Mart or Kroger’s) every two weeks or so, and we find all kinds of mischief to get into!

My brother is nice to everyone, believe it or not, and I just want to get OUT! He talks to the Wal-Mart greeter, while I grunt.

I’m just glad everyone at our neighborhood Kroger store knows us now. They used to think we were husband and wife.

Ewww! Hello! Not brother husband /sister wife. This is Ohio, not West “By God” Virginia.

As we go up and down the isles at either store, we have been known to yell at each other from three to six aisles over, asking where such and such is.

Dave smells every fucking thing in the place, and I do mean everything.

He shakes the cottage cheese (might not be enough whey you know), and chip containers, (a few might be broken) Oh the Humanity!!

He opens the frozen pot pie, and TV dinner boxes to see if they are in aluminum tins. I remind him every time, that they haven’t done that since the Carter administration.

No matter. I guess he has hope.

He wanders aimlessly…I, with purpose.

I cuss out people who stare at the soup cans for HOURS, while standing in the middle of the fucking aisle, and even when I say, “Excuse Me”, they look at me like I have five heads.

Ok, it’s in my head, but I give them really dirty looks, and sigh a lot. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, it’s fucking soup!

I know…I know…you’re torn between Campbell’s or the Kroger brand, and trying to figure out what the fuck the word, “consommé” means has just rocked your pea brained world but please…

Buy it or don’t…But get the fuck out of my way!!

I can never get to the meat section, because someone is always STARING, and handling every fucking package.

It’s hamburger people…you know, minced cow?? It’s funny, because no one we see ever looks at produce that way. Just toss it into the cart! Idiots.

Of course, judging by the looks and smell of some of the burger gawkers and produce tossers, I don’t think any type of fruit or vegetable has passed their lips since the night that Ethel Merman guest starred on an episode of, The Love Boat.

We do have fun though. We make fun of people, look for stuff that we had in the 70’s, and I always, and I mean always, look for that elusive and ultimately never found, box of Frankenberry cereal.

Years ago, when Mom, and Dave’s dog Megan was still alive, Mom insisted she have Mighty Dog soft dog food. Fourteen cans mind you. Why fourteen? No clue.

We’d be standing in that isle picking out the food, and we’d simultaneously begin singing, 18 Wheels On A Big Rig, by Heywood Banks.

Nobody really stared until I said “let’s do PI!”

Oh, the adventures when Dave and I start out doing it all again this Thursday morning!! And, it will start out by both of us saying the following…

“I’m only getting what’s on the list.” Yeah baby, you keep thinking that. But…We’re a team dammit!!

And maybe, just maybe I’ll be the nice one this time, just for shits and giggles…

Nah!! Better yet, I’ll ride in the cart, Dave can push me, stop the cart in the middle of the aisle, and we’ll both stare at the soup!!

Zoves and Dig It,
Schmoop and Dave

Color All the Fairies, and Next Year I'll Get You Play-Doh

This past Thursday was Schmoop’s mom’s 85th Birthday.

She has, over the course of her life, given birth to six kids…four boys and two girls.

She is batting .500 as far as the kids go. Three are fairly normal, and the other three..?

Um, not so much.

Beth (Schmoop), David, and their brother, Jeff? Sane.

There are two other boys who are of questionable mental faculties and then there is…PAM. Or, as David refers to her, “Beth’s Sister.”

Now, don’t get me wrong…Pam seems to be a very sweet person, however; she seems to be living in a totally different universe.

Or, to use David’s vernacular, “She’s a Slugnutty.”

Allow me back to up to Christmas of 2007. Pam evidently put a lot of thought into what to get her mom for Christmas that year.

Good ol’ Ma likes carry out food from a couple of local eateries including a pizza place just down the street from her home.

Perhaps Pam decided to get her a gift certificate from one of those establishments. What did Pam end up getting Ma for X-Mas…?

A big freakin’ package of Serenity Bladder Control pads.

That is so warm, so human…so full of filial devotion.

I mean, seriously…

What says, Merry Christmas better than enabling your mom to comfortably have several bladder accidents while watching an Andy Griffith Show marathon on TV Land?

Now Schmoop’s mom is 85. She is often tired, can’t hear well, and doesn’t move too gracefully, but she’s not an addle-minded invalid by any means.

However, Pam obviously thinks that this past Thursday when mom hit 85, she actually turned 4 years of age. Why, you ask?

Her present to her mom this birthday? A coloring book!! Full of Fairy pictures!! And a 12 pack of Crayons!! Claims it’ll keep her mind sharp!!

Oh, Baby…Somebody needs their mind sharpened alright, but I don’t think it’s Mom.

That’s okay though, she did bring over a cake…Of course, the cake that was left over she took back home with her. That’s so sweet.

And…a little advice. If you are going to get your mom a set of crayons, c’mon and spring for at least the 64 pack.

I mean, really…how well can one color a fairy picture without utilizing burnt umber and aquamarine? Damn right.

Oy Vay, people. Most times, just saying, “I love you”, and giving nothing, is so much better than giving something slugnutty…

Especially when it could very well embarrass the recipient.

Have a Monday all…

Cheers!!

The Snowfall or The Lunacy: Which One Will Be Deeper?

Another Friday here in Bagwine, Ohio and another return of the dreaded “White Death”.

It appears that a late winter storm is going to blanket our area in a snow sewn, ivory foulard.

The people around here will also cover me in an irritating rash of “Oh My God, It’s Like I Have Never Seen Snow Before” stupidity.

We are supposed to get at least 10 inches along with lots o’ blowin’…or to put that into a more human perspective:

That would be equivalent to me hosin’ a chick at least 5 times inside of a wind tunnel.

We are all set here at the Bagwine Manor…

We’ve plenty of beer, Bagwine, and smokes. I am going to make up some Black Bean Burgers today as well.

The only wrench in my preparedness is that school is still open and the snow is supposed to start around Noon.

I can picture Ryno getting released early and me having to fetch him.

That will force me to go out and trek to his school…braving the elements and the rapidly decreasing IQ of other drivers.

I swear to God people...

If I get stuck behind a car going 10 mph and there is a Jesus fish on the back of the vehicle, that driver is going to meet his or her maker sooner that they thought.

Yep, that’s one of the reasons that we call it, “White Death”.

I love the snow, but the ubiquitous jackassedness of others sometimes takes the fun out of Mother Nature’s meteorological mayhem.

Hell, even my beloved Inky and Lola are a bit worried. Some of you may remember what happened to poor Inky earlier this winter…



Well, that’s all I have today, my friends. Please pray for me, and stay in contact with me throughout these trying times.

If my batteries hold up, I will make sure to take pictures of the climatological carnage that is knock, knock, knockin' on Matt-Man's door.

Enjoy your Friday, and I will be in touch throughout the weekend…God Willing.

Cheers!!