Archive for October, 2010

Feeding Stupidity to our Young

Tuesday, October 26th, 2010

When I played a game of tennis recently with a younger opponent, I became engrossed in the ground beneath my feet. This is why: 

The cracks in the cement of the high school tennis court resembled the San Andreas fault, and I suddenly felt concerned about earthquakes. It was also a good way to distract my competitor. But I soon found myself distracted as well. By stupers (short for remarkably stupid persons).

The high school football team was practicing on the field just outside the tennis courts. Stupers (possibly the coaches or other adults in charge) played what some might call music, to entertain the team during practice. But I don’t believe it was music at all.


If I was scrubbing out a sewer pipe, it’s what I’d listen to, to accentuate my misery and doleful mood. These were the lyrics:

Me and you, yo’ mama and yo’ cousin
Baby we can make love to a rap song
A milli, a milli, a milli, a-muthaf-cka I’m ill…

What? I asked no one in particular.

Then the next tune came on. It was another uplifter:

       First things first, I poppa, freaks all the honeys. Dummies – playboy bunnies, those wantin’ money…

I did a quick translation of the lyrics to make sure I wasn’t making a big thing of something small: Generally, I engage in deviant sexual activity with all kinds of women, including, but not limited to, stupers, nude magazine models and prostitutes.


Is this what we want our young to listen to while on school grounds, or any grounds, playing sports or whatever? This was not a high school in an oppressed area, unless by oppressed we mean consisting of a high stuper population. But, of course, stupidity is a worldwide epidemic. 




I’ve heard a lot of talk lately of alien landings. And not the E.T. brand of friendly, cute and cuddly aliens that sit nicely in bicycle baskets. Is this new alien form messing with our young? I placed a call to the UN. Some of my concerned readers may be asking right now, what happened to your tennis match? I successfully stalled the game with the discussion of earthquakes, rap music and aliens, which was a good thing, as I was leading 3-2.



Why did I call the UN? Because I wanted to speak with Mrs Othman, who is currently head of the UN’s little known Office for Outer Space Affairs (Unoosa). She is the designated official greeter to aliens. I wanted to know what the aliens, if any, that she’d recently encountered were like. Are they tired of sabotaging our nuclear missiles and instead replacing Mozart, the theme from Rocky and Queen’s “We are the Champions” with rap music in order to corrupt the minds of our young while they practice sports?


Mrs. Othman would not take my call.


I’m guessing, based on all of my previous studies which, as you know, I often conduct at the spur of any moment, that the onslaught of rap was the handiwork of idiots. Instead of making the worthwhile effort to uplift, inspire and motivate young minds or any minds, stupers prefer to fascinate those around them with the depressing, the obscene, and oftentimes the morbid. Don’t fall for it.







Health and Safety and Stupidity

Tuesday, October 5th, 2010

One of the main advancements in modern health and safety is the fact that food service workers wear sanitary gloves when handling food items. But this begs the question: is the glove truly sanitary? Not when a stuper (short for a sensationally stupid person) is involved.


I waited patiently on the public side of the bakery counter at a huge health food market so that I could get two innocent loaves of bread sliced.  I eyed the lone employee’s profile as she expertly ignored me from the other side of the counter. She fiddled with her cell phone, scratched her head and licked some chocolate off a gloved thumb that accidently scraped against a rogue cupcake sitting on a nearby prep table. She continued  texting.  All while wearing food service gloves.

I cleared my throat. She didn’t flinch. I slapped the palm of my hand down on the glass countertop. No reaction. 

“Excuse me!” I cried out for attention.

She didn’t budge. I swear. Granted Madonna was playing from somewhere overhead, possibly completely taking over the sense of hearing of those not properly using their minds. I felt…frustrated. Did I mention that I wanted two loaves of bread sliced?

Finally, I huffed so loudly, she turned her head toward me and asked, “Did you need something?” 

I mutely lifted the unwitting loaves of bread, one in each hand, which I held up for all to see. By this time, an appreciative line had formed behind me.

As you likely predicted, the distracted worker proceeded to slice my bread with the same gloved hands used on her phone, her hair and her tongue. 

“Please!” I kindly screamed. Just in the nick of time.


My one word said it all, as she quickly changed out of her gloves and donned a fresh pair. But this tale doesn’t end here, as stupidity is perpetual. Once the bread was sliced, she removed the sanitary gloves to use her bare hands to shove the bread into plastic bags to hand over to me. To add insult to injury, instead of tying the ends of the bags with those ever present twisty ties that come in all the primary colors plus green and black, she decided to tie the ends in a knot. A double knot. All this in plain view of yours truly.

My mantra lately has been to “lighten up,” as I find myself taking life far too seriously. I tried to grin and bear it. I took the bread when it was offered to me. Double knots, bare hands and all.  Did I mention that I was on the last lag of a 240 mile trip at the time?

When I returned to my car, I forced open a bag and ate a slice of bread. I’m happy to report that was four days ago. I didn’t grow a third arm, turn different shades of purple or even gag intermittently.

Beware of stupers.