Tag Archives: screaming
That’s no bar! It’s a playground!
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Since the dawn of time philosophers have debated, “What is a bar? What is a restaurant?” Sometimes there are no easy answers. There can be a very fine line between “bar” and “restaurant.”
So what?! Who gives a shit?! What’s in a name?!
Mainly the presence of shitloads of filthy little varmints. That makes this issue one of no small consequence.
As always I will cover all points of view as if to give the reader an understanding of the issue. I will be fair. I will be impartial. I will be partially inebriated.
Also, as always, illumination will be provided by Wikipedia:
bar:
A bar is a retail business establishment that serves alcoholic drinks — beer, wine, liquor, and cocktails — for consumption on the premises.restaurant:
A restaurant is a business which prepares and serves food and drink to customers in return for money …
There we were in a mystery business of some sort. Was it a “bar” or a “restaurant?” Let’s find out. It’s Litmus Test Time boys and girls!
Raisin’ The Bar
Ether you’re with me or you’re a’gin me.
So you want to swim upstream and spawn. Good for you. What business is that of mine? None, I’ll admit, unless the government decides to subsidize your reproduction of yourself with credits and tax rates and/or you ever try to bring them around me.
It turns out there’s something more trendy than microbrew, fedoras, bicycling, beards, tattoos and North Face jackets. What could it possibly be?
Oh, yeah. It’s bringing your wee young ones to restaurants or, inconceivably allowed, bars and pubs. What could possibly go wrong?
The other night my wife and I were at a BBQ trendspot in PDX. As always, any place that is half-way edible means that there will be a 45-minute wait. That’s life in the big city. But that also means we had time to be treated to the floor show.
Two women were standing around holding their drinks while three small children accompanying them ran hog wild. (It was a BBQ place, after all.) They ordered another round. Every once in a while they’d yap something at the kids which was promptly ignored, had no effect, and they returned to nursing their drinks.
Meanwhile, I wondered what it would take for a restaurant to actually ask them to leave. Maybe if they set off a small nuclear device? Maybe, I figured, but probably not.
We were seated and, of course, we were only two tables away. We watched them order two more rounds of daiquiris. Apparently they and the restaurant were teaming up for Set A Good Example night. I couldn’t help but wonder how they were all going to get home.
Earlier we went to a place on the Columbia River for happy hour but the lounge was full. We opted to sit on the deck. No doubt it was a beautiful view. On the other hand, we had to order from the dinner menu, there were no happy hour prices, and, through the lounge windows, we saw lots of wee small children. Some were sticking their tongues out at us.
What the fuck.
Grand Unification Theory of Reproduction

Four out of five doctors recommend removing that leech from your neck. You’re supposed to apply them outside the body. That’s our key action point of the day.
I stylishly removed my fedora and flung it like a frisbee. No phone booths were to be found. I was about to write something for the Daily Diatribe, a major metropolitan daily in the uber city of Grabham. And I was their intrepid reporter.
Yeah, it was something like that when I had my latest epiphany.
We all know parents are the worst people to have children. But why?
The idea came to me when watching the birth of a little baby deer. Plop! It landed on the ground. Gross. But in a few minutes it struggled to it’s feet. It was already walking!
A few more minutes and it was able to prance. And, by the very next day, it was able to beat an average University of Portland student at ping pong. But what did this mean? (Besides the fact that UP students can’t play ping pong for shit.)
Oh, yeah. Now I remember. Human babies are slow at survival and being able to fend for themselves. Our species may be the most intelligent (heh!) on this planet but it comes at a very high cost. We all start as utterly helpless lifeforms.
And therein lies the rub.
Here Protection
Summer is still weeks away but we’re already beginning to feel the effects.
The local TV news, which consists of 18 minutes weather, 2 minutes news and 10 minutes commercials, has been telling us for months that practically every single day is setting another local weather record. In winter we had the warmest winter days ever. There have been lots of rainfall records along the way, including one just a couple of days ago. And now, finally, record heat days are occurring on a regular basis.
I think we’re setting a record on setting new records. Somebody check the records. This has got to be true.
Living in Portland means, of course, there is no air conditioning in our house circa 1950s. I think they hates them, they do. Maybe things were cooler in the 1950s so people didn’t think they were really needed? Bioswale floors, walls, ceilings and roofs constructed out of organic kale didn’t exist back then, did they?
Whatever the case, when the heat hits our house like an oven on broil, the windows, reluctantly, have to be placed in the “open” position. And that’s when the shit goes sideways.
Hello, neighbors.
Continue reading →
You Have Mouth and I Must Scream
The modern era. As a people we know one thing for sure. We’re the best civilization this planet has ever seen. Hells ya.
And, by no small coincidence, we are the #1 “hey look at me” civilization of all time.
Seriously. Right now. Stop reading this and look at me. I mean it.
It used to be vanity books but that took way too much damn effort. These days it’s as easy as pie. Web sites, twitter, facebook, cell phones, and more, all give voice to a generation that screams, “Hey, look at me!” Hell, there are even some asshole pontificating bloggers who want you to read what they have to say as if they are interesting. (Hey! Don’t look at me that way!)
Naturally just putting out your wit and wisdom for the world to enjoy is usually not quite enough. Not by a long shot. After all, some folks might decide to not listen and/or not pay attention. What the devil should be done about that? Being ignored is unacceptable.
This is where our good, good friend “interrupting” rides in to save the day. Oh yeah.
The principle behind this is simple: Whatever I have to say is of Ultimate Importance and whatever you have to say is just a bunch of bullshit hot air.
You might even say this is the prime directive of our modern era. No doubt it is one of the most basic building blocks of a society that consists solely of assholes.
Let’s try a real life example. Pretend you are doing what you do best, talking about yourself and the painstakingly detailed minutia of your day, yet the other party tries to speak and interject a thought. What should you do?
Interrupt them, that’s what! Forcefully and with malice. Think of it as a conversation beheading.
Most of the time your audacious efforts at interrupting will win the day and the other party will submit. Sometimes, though, this won’t work. After all, they are most likely trying to simultaneously be as big of an asshole as you. They probably think they are important (like a special and unique snowflake) and expect your world to revolve around what they have to say.
What then?
Well, if interrupting is good, then even more interrupting is even better! Re-interrupt them. And, here’s the key strategy: Do it louder!
It’s amazing how effective a simple technique like raising your voice can be. This will shut down all but the most hardy of verbal opponents (aka your audience).
I’ve personally seen masters of this at work. Watching two black belt interrupters go at it can be fascinating. But don’t forget to bring your ear plugs! Sometimes the increase in volume can get intense enough to cause hearing loss.
The moment when one of the sparring beasts finally backs down can be one of the most spectacular as ever seen in nature. Even Mutual of Omaha hasn’t properly captured it on film yet. One party is victorious and the other submits and goes into a mode known as, “Whatever, fuckhead. You think I’m going to listen to you???”
I bet if you hone your powers of observation you just might be able to witness this phenomenon as you go throughout your day.
For those of you ready to take things to the next level, to be world-class interrupters, here is a special web site just for you. Now go out there and seize the say!
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