Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Things to Do in Denver

1) Looking out my office window, I watched a woman park her car so horrendously that she is simultaneously in two parking spaces, on the curb, and blocking the stairs to the lower level of the parking lot. I applaud her though, because she has a "handicapped" tag on her rearview mirror. She has the right idea. If you get a pass for being disabled--and I'll add that her only handicap appeared to be purchasing the teal and pink windsuit she was wearing--you should enjoy the hell out of it. If I had one of those stickers, I would ignore the lot altogether and instead drive onto the sidewalk. Not only that, but I'd make sure that my bumper was always triggering the automatic door sensor so they would open and close constantly, and so people would have to scale the hood in order to get in the building, timing their entrance--like Indiana Jones when he has to slide out of that tomb--so they don't get smashed in the door. Don't forget your fedora... That would be the most fun at hospitals. Either that or I would park in the cart return space. Sideways. Not parallel, I would actually try to flip my car onto its side so it would fit into the corral.

2) The personal trainers at my gym are all horribly out of shape. The woman who's there in the mornings has a physique resembling a Ziploc bag full of cottage cheese. She always has clients, but I can't understand why someone would pay her to get her advice. If you look at her, you'll notice that when she's standing, her legs touch each other at every point from waist to floor. How do you develop a gut on your ankle bones? I'm convinced her thermos is full of Crisco. Seriously, isn't getting fitness advice from a fat woman a little like taking a soccer lesson from Larry Flynt?

3) I'm not a fan of the vanity license plate. I couldn't ever be friends with anyone who paid additional money to outfit their Dodge Stratus with a "UGOGIRL" tag...although I've never been friends with anyone who's ever said that either, so maybe that's a bad example. I also shun people who say "co-inky-dink", "Git 'r done", and "You're fired". (No, not in that Donald Trump/"Apprentice" way...I'm talking about people who have actually fired me.) Anyway, the vanity tag just doesn't seem practical and I'll give you three reasons why: Hit. And. Run. If someone remembers seeing a red Kia in the vicinity, that could be anyone, but I guarantee some meddling witness would recall a "KIDSDOC" or a "NSCARFAN" mowing down the Scout troop. Actually, if your plate actually IS "NSCARFAN", you deserve to be run over.

4) Note to the Defense Department: you may want to add "blue jeans out of the dryer" to your list of approved "interrogation techniques" for war prisoners. Nothing hurts worse than those red hot rivets searing into your pelvis, aka "The Abercrombie Bone". Nothing. Pull a pair of Levis out of my Kenmore and threaten to put 'em on me and I'm talking, whatever you want to know. Get an old priest and a young priest, because I'll confess everything before I'll get branded. I'll even give up my handicapped space.

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