Money Talks and Paris Walks
I can’t blog tonight. I’m too emotional.
Paris Hilton is home at last.
That poor thing, thrust in jail with, with. . . . commoners.
Forced to eat, hot dogs period.
She just adores a penthouse view! Darling, she’s guilty, but give her Fifth Avenue.
After all, she’s not like us. When she drives drunk, you can’t expect her to pay the same penalties a normal person would have to pay. No, she’s not like us.
She’s far trashier than any of us. Think of the stupidest, trashiest, biggest waste-of-earth-space person you’ve ever seen or heard about in all the years of your life. Now take it down about two hundred levels.
There she is! It’s Paris Hilton!
Famous for being famous.
She can’t sing. She can’t dance. She can’t memorize lines and be in a play or show. She doesn’t do good works. She isn’t seen volunteering at shelters and agencies. She spends thousands of dollars for a hairstyle, and goes out in public looking like a herd of goats nuzzled her head. She can’t keep her knees together. She can’t hear video cameras humming. She wears clothing that looks like it was pulled out of a dumpster, and pays hundreds of thousands of dollars for it. She doesn’t even know that the sentient universe is laughing at her. She doesn’t know what “sentient” means. She thinks the French city was named after HER. She thinks she deserves to be above the law, above the rules.
Apparently, that last part is true. What a poor excuse for a judge.
All around us, people are dying; people are starving; people are hurting others, people are oppressing others, earthquakes are leaving people homeless, hurricanes are starting to move in, volcanoes are erupting, rivers are overflowing, children are being sold into slavery, women are tortured and disfigured and raped, homes are being robbed, computers are being hacked, people are telling lies, schools are overcome with mold and rust, babies are being abandoned, men are walking out on their wives and children. . . . but most people only know for sure that Paris Hilton walks free.
What has happened to us as a people, as a society, as the human race, that someone something like Paris Hilton or Lindsay Lohan or Angelina Jolie will grab the newspaper’s headlines and the people’s attention, and a hungry, bleeding little child is ignored?
There are websites devoted to these moronic nothings. People sign petitions demanding Paris’s release from prison! People think Lindsay is a ROLE MODEL for our teens! The fact that Angelina is an adultress with a love child and someone else’s husband (at first) is ignored, and she’s touted as a hero! My GOD, how did we sink so low?
No, I don’t have any ideas tonight. I’m too emotional.
I do have this to say: Medical condition my ass.
Update: She’s back in jail. That poor thing.
Thank You For Tagging Me. I Mean That, By The Way
I’ve been tagged a time or two and I like to pay my debts! Some bloggers resent being tagged, but I consider it an honor. Why would I NOT feel good about being tagged? Isn’t it a lot like being greeted on the street and asked how I am by somebody who really wants to know?
Unless it’s a stupid meme, of course. I’ve seen a lot of those. Real friends don’t tag real friends with Disney princess memes and ‘Which breed of hunting dog are you?”
But the Blogosphere has become a comfort zone for many of us these days; we’ve been here for a few years and we know who our friends are, and who they aren’t (more’s the pity) and when a friend asks me a question, I’ll answer it.
Patriside asked me first, so I’ll obey him first. Have I ever NOT obeyed him? He asked me to list eight random facts/habits, so here we go:
1. I like to think that I’m a card shark, but I’m really too insecure to be one. I still smile and pretend I know what I’m doing, though. Sometimes I get lucky.*
2. I thrive in chaos, and when things are quiet and peaceful I can’t get anything done.
3. I truly believe that adults should live up to the responsibilities they signed on for, and to renege on them is to lessen one’s worth.
4. It is my decided opinion that in public, EVERYBODY should behave themselves: wherever they are, whatever their mood, and whether or not they’ve had enough sleep or dinner. Unless one is six months old or Trilby, ** behavior is a choice.
5. Without music, I think I would die. I am, however, extremely particular about said music, although I have favorites in every genre. Country and scat jazz, not so much.
6. I am happier when there are fresh flowers in the house. They don’t last long, but most lovely things don’t. . . .
7. I would kill *** you if you ever laid a violent hand on my children. Or anybody else’s children, for that matter, if I could reach you.
8. I loathe my body with a passion few others could possibly understand. It wasn’t always so.
* This had a whole ‘nuther meaning back in the day.
** Does anybody else remember poor Trilby and the wicked Svengali? (or where that ‘quote’ came from?)
*** Dead, and I don’t mean maybe. People who hurt children for selfish or perverted purposes**** are scum.
**** Same thing.
Thanks, Patriside dear, for including me. After reading my list, I hope I haven’t frightened anyone.
Now, sweet Beth has asked me to recycle an old post. How about this one?
Why, yes, I am in a bit of a mood tonight. Thank you for asking.
As for tagging, well, if you want to do either of these, by all means please do. I will love reading what you have to say.
A bit of a mood. Definitely.
The Post Where I Tell You All How I Help Keep WalMart Inefficient
I am not a WalMart fan. I’ll say it right out.
This town has one of the largest Super WalMarts in the world. Seriously, we do. I still don’t care for it.
Oh, I go. (Hula, I GO!) And I always find bargains. (2GB memory cards for $14.95!!!!) But I think what I hate most about WalMart is the waiting.
Today, Hub and I went to WalMart to buy milk, two flats of petunias, and kitty litter. (The Three Graces poop a lot. . . .)
We waited in line at the checkout for over twenty minutes, and it did not move. There was one poor little cashier working the checkouts in the outdoor/garden section, and she was held captive by an old man who couldn’t accept the fact that his potting soil coupon wasn’t viable. He would not budge, and neither did the long, long line of customers. Several gave up, abandoned their carts, and left the store. Nobody came to help this lady, even though she called for help several times.
We finally went back to the main part of the store and tried to find an open checkout there. Out of about thirty registers, three were open, and all three had lines backed up to Kingdom Come. There were employees everywhere, and nobody to run a register.
This is the same WalMart where, a few weeks ago, Hub watched a grown man have a meltdown over the long lines and ridiculous delays. This man went berserk, in fact, and a WalMart manager actually showed his face and called the police. In this town, it was big news.
Not the berserk customer. The WalMart MANAGER who was actually spotted!
I hate it when frustrated people abuse the cashiers, though. Hey, it’s not their fault. Leave them alone!!!!!! They’re working as fast as they can, and it’s certainly no fun wondering how the next customer is going to yell and place blame and use potty words, just because the cashier is the only handy WalMart representative around. Shame, people.
I’m not sure what the point of this post is, unless maybe it’s to laugh at Hub and me a little bit, because, for all of our raised eyebrows and whispered opinions and little games of send-the-manager-to-hell while we waited, the fact remains that we waited, and WalMart got our money anyway.
As long as that keeps happening, why would they hire more cashiers?
