So Rad

I need this for desk tchotke at work real bad. I just added it to my Amazon wish list. Ladies and gents. The Playmobil Airport Security Checkpoint playset.

Also, the Playmobil baby in an incubator is kinda tight.


OMG. Playmobil office equipment set is rad.

Won't You Sign In Stranger

It's been a month. I was accused of moving the blog and writing it under another fake name. In truth, I was just lazy and uninspired. Could be the TV. Could've been the weather. Could've been work. Could've been a variety of things, but it's not worth analyzing.

Here are some highlights. The coolest thing that happened was receiving nunchucks from my sister for Christmas. Scratch that. I actually almost received nunchucks. Instead, it was two pieces of wood and some chainlink. If they were connected it would be a felony unless used in a martial arts exhibition. Therefore, they are illegal if you suck at nunchucking and legal if you are good. Let's just say that if I did have nunchucks, I would probably have hit myself in the mouth with them about two weeks ago while chucking under the influence.

Now, in reference to their legality, how fucking stupid is that law? You break into my apartment to steal my TV that I love so much that I would write up a proposition to make it legal to marry it and you wake me up mid-theft. I come out in my underwear with my nunchucks. Pop-quiz, hotshot. Would you rather I had a gun or a pair of nunchucks? It's a no-brainer, but I don't have a large group of nunchuck enthusiasts in California that vote, so this is what we get. Watch for the NNA, though. I will start the National Nunchuck Association and make Mark Wahlberg our President due to the passing of Chuck Heston. I believe the rules are that the President must be the lead from Planet of the Apes and that's the best we've got.

Speaking of groups/associations, I've finished my community service for my Blottaux Pas. It wasn't that bad, but it was time consuming. The first weekend following it, I'll admit, I felt weird being at home on a Saturday morning. I'm not saying that I missed it, but it felt weird and I did have a small raking jones in the morning. So, after going through everything that I've gone through so far and still having a weekly meeting for the next five months and a zero tolerance for three years and a black smear on my record for ten, I'm starting to feel a little pissed at the California chapter of MADD (Motherrs Against Drunk Driving).

Yes, I empathize with people that have experienced loss due to people acting negligently, but I think in California they overdo it a bit. I mean fuck, okay, my bad. I've learned my lesson. Can we just move past this? I do feel lucky that I didn't hurt anyone or myself. I feel really fuckin' fortunate in fact, but get fucking over it. It's so typical of a woman and feels like a horrible marriage has been struck up with the Mothers Against Drunk Drivers. It's just no fun. Let it go. I'm sorry.

So, while I bear my scarlet three letters of D, U, and I, I'm getting myself a little divorce from this group that has just been riding my ass for making a mistake and refusing to accept my apology. I'm putting my own association together called DAMM (Drunks Against MADD Mothers).

It's not pro drunk driving, but it's pro forgiveness. It's pro let people get the fuck on with their lives. It's pro let people dig their own fuckin' graves and make their own fates possible without trying to control their behaviors through administrative bullshit. The best I can do at this point is to vote against anything they support in the form of propositions. I actually checked last November and did vote against anything they supported.

In fact, I think the BAC laws are completely relative. So, the legal limit is .08. That is whether I'm 6' 4" and 340 pounds or 4' 6" and 40 pounds. That is completely aside from the fact that people have different tolerances based on their familiarity with blottopia.

For instance, if I've had eight beers and am driving behind some soccer mom drinking a chai latte and talking on a cell phone while wiping up her kids fucking applesauce that's all over his face, I'm less of a danger to anyone on the road and she has a .00 and I've got a .10.

Actually, I'm extremely agile and resilient when under the influence. I would throw down the challenge of my inebriated agile self against Joe Grande Iced Mocha in a variety of tests like cabular impact absorption (absorbing impact from chartered transportation), long distance falling, and breaking and entering into secure objects (getting inside your house and into bed without keys).

So, anyway, say I perform a battery of tests at the DMV including monkey bars and running through tires on an obstacle course and as soon as I can do it without being awesome, that's my legal BAC. I think I could easily pull off a .18 while still remaining relatively awesome. Doesn't this seem a lot more fair, the idea of earning your BAC? Honestly, it just makes a lot more sense to me, but is definitely against the grain in a society of people that feel they are owed something just for being here.

Anyway, trying to write more and feliz ano nuevo.