Mini-Rants from a Toy Fox Terrier:
The following are just some of the things that get my goat;
Tattoos: What is it with you people and your tattoos with Chinese characters in them. I mean it doesn’t make you spiritual. Come on, a tattoo right above the crack of your butt with Chinese characters? Give me a break here, you don’t even know what it says. It translates, “Wang Lo’s Poo Poo Plater.” Good grief, the last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying to pass your English exam. You’re not spiritual. You’re just high.
Old People: Come on all ready, stop messing with them! Target is introducing a redesigned pill bottle that’s square, with a bigger label. And the top is now the bottom. And by the time gramps figures out how to open it he'll be in the morgue. Congratulations Target, you just solved the Social Security crisis.
Women and their eyebrows: What the hell is the deal here? Why are you so obsessed with making them skinny, pointy, curved, slanted or whatever. Ladies, repeat after me, “Men don’t care!” As far as a man is concerned, as long as you have two eyebrows, fine - - let’s go to dinner.
Wal-Mart: What’s up with them? I’m not the cashier! By the time I get done sliding my friggen' card, entering my PIN number, pressing “Enter,” verifying the amount, deciding, no, I don’t want cash back, and pressing “Enter” again… the kid who’s “supposed” to be ringing me up is standing there playing with my Chew Toy. Paper? Plastic? I don’t have time for that, I just want to get home and play with my Chew Toy. Is that too much to ask?
Baseball cards: You know, kids collect them. I think every kid collects baseball cards. The cards represent their heros, their idols, people they want to be like when they grow up. Now, the operative word here is KIDS. My problem isn’t with kids… its adults. Listen if you’re a grown man and you’re collecting cards, you’re collecting pictures of men. Don’t you think that’s a little bit weird?
The following is a letter I got from some guy named Bernie, asking for advice:
Dear Ms. Munchkin;
My job, which I have had for five years, is a real pain in the butt. I work for the Department of Motor Vehicles.
I go to work day in and day out, doing the same thing every single day; check this stamp that, and then have to listen to the complaints of the moron public.
Can you offer a suggestion?
Thanks,
Bernie
Dear Bernie;
If you think, for one second, you’ve got a bad job, then on your way home from work; stop at your local pharmacy. I want you to go to the thermometer section and purchase a rectal thermometer made by Johnson & Johnson.
Be very sure you get this brand. When you get home, lock your doors, draw the curtains and disconnect the phone so you will not be disturbed.
Change into very comfortable clothing and sit in your favorite chair. Open the package and remove the thermometer. Now, carefully place it on a table or a surface so that it will not become chipped or broken.
Now the fun part begins. Take out the literature from the box and read it carefully. You will notice there is a disclosure in very fine print that reads:
“Every Rectal Thermometer made by Johnson & Johnson is personally tested and then sanitized.”
Now, close your eyes and repeat out loud five times, “I am so glad I do not work in the thermometer quality control department at Johnson & Johnson.” Now you can have a wonderful day knowing that, no matter how bad it is, there is always a job that’s more of a pain in the ass than yours.
Sincerely,
Munchkin
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