I'm Good With Kids!

I was recently asked to baby-sit for my neighbor. (Not the gay one, of course - all his kids are grown up)
Now, this isn't the sort of thing I would normally be asked to do, nor the sort of thing I would normally accept, but I'd been drinking, and he'd been drinking, and it just seemed like a good idea at the time. (A little note here - I was drinking my wine coolers, but he was drinking something that smelled like insect repellent. Ick!)
Anyhow, I found myself with a seven-year-old kid and an afternoon full of errands. My first thought was to leave the tyke at my house with the remote control, some ice cream, and a phone for emergencies, but I had this weird little feeling, like a voice in my head saying, "No, you're good with kids, you can do this." I mean, that's what I was thinking.
So I took junior to the mall with me. It went all right at first - he was completely quiet and well behaved when I was buying my candles, and he didn't make a peep at the Nascar store (even though I know, for a fact, that all kids love nascar). The trouble started when I went to the Mac store (that's a computer place for you luddite troglodites). All I wanted was a new "A" button for my keyboard (the "A" is wearing off this one), but when I asked them to get me one, the "Mac Genius" started calling me a retard. Now, I wasn't happy to leave the store, "A" button-less, having been called a retard by a Genius, but if anyone can declare who's a retard, it has to be a genius. So I accepted that, for the time being. No, what bugged me was when junior started calling me a retard too, like it was suddenly okay for him to say. And he said it constantly.
I tried to explain that he didn't have the right to call me that, that only a genius had that power. But no, it was "Retard this," and "Retard that," and "You're a retard." So I told him that I knew he was no genius, because I'd seen him poop in his pants before, and geniuses don't do that. He didn't care.
This is when that "good with kids" instict kicked in, and I had a stroke of genius of my own. I said "Listen, junior, you have to behave, or people are going to spit on you." This got his attention.
"You're going to spit on me?" he asked (notice the lack of "retard" now)
"No," I said, "But everyone else will. They'll spit on you. They've wanted to spit on you since we got here, but they've had to wait for an excuse. They have one now: you're being bad."
Junior was looking really scared now, and I was feeling pretty proud.
He pointed to a guy on the upper level. Don't ask me why he picked that guy, he was just some guy. "He wants to spit on me?"
"Yes," I said. "Him, and him, and her, and him, and that guy. They will spit on you."
Now it looked like junior was about to start crying, or something.
"What about her?" He pointed to an old lady. I have to admit, it was a good call on his part, because she looked like a really nice old lady. But I just told him that she had already tried to spit on him when I was buying my candles. Then he really did start crying, and I acted like I was trying to protect him from flying spit. I would never really do that, but he seemed to appreciate it, and he stopped crying right away when I told him that people spit on cryers too.

He was quiet the rest of the day. He didn't even want to eat when I made sandwhiches. That is one good kid.
Also, my neighbor asked me if I ever wanted to babysit again, when he got back. I told him I didn't really want to, but I'd leave it up to junior. I expect to be watching the little rugrat pretty often now.

A little town I like to call... Earth!!

In my recent rollings and trollings of the www, the great intersphere, I came across this little insight:

"A PERSPECTIVE ON THE WORLD

If we could shrink the Earth's population to a village of precisely 100 people, with all existing ratios remaining the same, it would look like this:

1) 57 Asians, 21 Europeans, 14 from the Western
Hemisphere (North and South), and 8 Africans.
2) 52 would be female, 48 would be male
3) 70 would be non-white, 30 would be white
4) 70 would be non-Christian, 30 would be Christian
5) 89 would be heterosexual, 11 would be homosexual
6) 59% of the world's wealth would be in the hand's of only 6 people, all would be U.S. citizens.
7) 80 would live in substandard housing
8) 70 would be unable to read
9) 50 would suffer from malnutrition
10) 1 would have a computer
11) only 1 would have a college education"

One word - wow. It really makes you look at things in a whole new way.
I mean, who would want to live in a village in the first place, right? And this one sounds really weird.
Here's my take, point by point:
1)That seems like an awful lot of Asians. But, then again, there's an awful lot of Asia. Do Russians count as Asian? Also, I noticed a striking lack of Eskimos in this group. They are people too. I wonder if "from the Western Hemisphere" means Indian, or if I get to be from the Western Hemisphere too.
2)Just the way I like it - more ladies to each man!
3)At first I thought this little statistic was upsetting. I mean, it could be strange with all those "non-whites" around. What are we even supposed to talk about? But then I started to find the idea of everyone being "White" or "non-White" very comforting. That way, we all know who we really are.
4)70 non-Christians!! Well, if any of the people in this village are Jehovahs, that number will change pretty soon. I'm thinking of converting just to keep them off my porch. I'm scared to go to work!!
5)There have to more than eleven gay people in this village. I mean, I know for a fact my neighbor is gay, and most of the people he has over have to be gay too, so do the math...
6), 7), 8), and 9) Completely unnecessary! Unhealthy, poor, illiterates who live in junky houses - we have these people in the village already, and they're called "poor white trash." I'm not being racist - that's what they call themselves. And more power to them, as long as they stay away from my computer.
10), 11) Change the "1" in these statements to an "I," and this village starts to make sense.

Anyway, I see this as an opportunity to change what you don't like about this village, our village. I, for one, will be working to make the village a little more accepting of Eskimos.
It's not too late for a New Years Resolution.

T3: Rse of the Mchnes

Have you all heard of this thing, TXT messaging? You do it with phones, and it is amazing!
Like, normally I would never talk on the phone with someone if I was in the bathtub, or, you know, going to the bathroom, because I'd be concerned that they might be able to picture me naked. I often go to the bathroom naked.
Now, though, I can just construct a TXT message from where ever I am! No worries at all!

This brings up some important issues, though. Because if I have this problem, everyone else must too. Does this mean that, in the future, whenever we receive a TXT from someone, we'll just have to assume that they're sitting in the tub, or standing in front of the toilet, completely naked?
What a creepy thought! But that's the future for you. Frankly I'd rather deal with killer robots, but for now... wait for my TXT messages

BTW, Happy New Year!

Just one more little thing - if you haven't noticed, it's 2007!!
Not that I need to tell you - we were all together last night (in TV land!) Ryan Seacrest outdid himself again. It was sad to see Dick Clark get paralyzed like that, but Seacrest has the feet for those big shoes!
Anyway, I have a good feeling about 2007. Everybody says that, I know, but I've learned to trust these good feelings - they dont come often, but when they do, I know something special is right around the corner. In the last year I've had good feelings about 1)pull tabs 2)Valley Fair, and 3)a visit to the clinic. Each occasion came up roses (I won't get into it, but with regards to the clinic I'll say this: there is such a thing as "cat scratch fever," but I didn't have it).
So what's on the ol' laundry list for everyone? Here's mine (it's a first draft, so don't hold me to these):
1)Eat healthier
2)Pilates, every day or every other day
3)Take less crap from "Steve" (the pilates should help with this, if pilates are as effective as I've heard. I love the martial arts.)
4)Liberate Bazooka from the pound (this is one mission I can win, and I'll do it for the country!)
5)Finish my novel (maybe I'll write more about this later - it's sort of a Da Vinci Code thing, but based on the whole Arabian Nights mythology. It has a talking bear.)
6)Blog better, more often (this one is for you).

Also, I hate to brag, but it just so happens that I spent New Years eve at a celebrity's celebrity party. I'm not one to kiss and tell, but it was Robyn Robinson.
You know, I could sing that woman's praises night and day, but there's one thing I noticed - she hides a lot of booze around the house. Isn't that the sign of an alcoholic?

My Gay Neighbor!

I swear! Sometimes I think I must live in the gayest neghborhood in the world. And I'm including that one in San Francisco where you have be gay to buy stuff and walk around.
Every day I see my neighbor, who we'll just call "Steve" (his real name is Steven), prancing around like he owns the whole block - and he doesn't! He mowes his lawn with his shirt off, and I'm pretty sure that when it's time to shovel the sidewalk he'll do that without a shirt too. That's the kind of guy he is.
Also, get this, he sews and cooks! I can see pretty far into his house from my bedroom window, and I'm sure that's a sewing machine he's always sitting at. Or it might be a computer. If it is, I'm sure he's looking up gay things (sewing supplies, etc.) I can see directly into his kitchen, too, and he always, always, makes breakfast for his wife! Gay slave, anyone?
I'm all for "the gaying of America," as they say, but this guy drives me up the wall. If he invites me to one more BBQ, I'm going to call the cops on him.