Shoot the looters…

I read a news article today that looting has already started in Louisiana.


And it’s not (just) food, water, medicine — you know, the necessities.

It’s tvs, vcrs, clothes.

Fucking animals.

I remember when a bad tornado ripped throw the town where my sister lives and she called and told me people were looting within the hour after the tornado hit.

Again. Unfuckingbelievable. Here is this small town utterly destroyed by a tornado and the first thing some people want to do is rip someone off.

What kind of person looks at a tragedy like this and thinks, “Hey, since everyone is gone, I can act like an animal.”

And that’s what these looters are. Animals.

I hope the police and the national guard start taking shots at these pieces of trash. Not to kill, mind you (if an accident happens, so be it), but enough to take out a knee or something.

It would be fitting.

Take off those damn ribbons…

For those of you with ribbons on your vehicle, take them off.


No one cares.

I was driving down the road today and every other car had one of those damn ribbons on the back.

Pink ribbons, yellow ribbons, black ribbons, ribbons with paw prints, red ribbons, white ribbons, blue ribbons, red, white and blue ribbons.

For fuck’s sake.

Not only do people not know what half of them mean anymore, but no one cares that you have a ribbon on your car. Of course you support the troops/battle for breast cancer/America/whatever today’s fucking cause is. If you didn’t, you’re a moron. I don’t have any ribbons on my car, does that mean I support common sense causes less? Doubtful (except for that animal one. I’m all for the slaughtering of cats if it leads to a better, tastier chocolate bar).

The point is, once again, a fad has been run into the ground and has become pointless. Like the baby-on-board signs of the late 80s, they’ve been played out.

If you want show your support for the troops, do what my roommate does, mail them books or phonecards or whatever. I’m sure they’ll dig that a helluva lot more than you toting around in your Volvo with 27 ribbons on the back.

It’s all about the sign…

This past weekend was the Horrorfind convention, or keeping the tradition, Dorkfest 2005.

For the n00bs, Horrorfind is, well, a Horror convention consisting of vendors, authors, movie stars and seminars and book readings from the horror genre.

But, while the stars and the readings and the shit to buy is cool, Dorkfest has evolved into a reason to get together with friends and spend all weekend not only making fun of the geeks at the conventions, but each other as well–and this year was no exception.

Since there were going to be quite a few of us drinking, I went up to the hotel early and arranged to have two patio rooms right next to each other, so we would have two patios to drink on. For me, I hate drinking in a hotel room. It feels like I’m in highschool. But if you throw down on a patio, there is an air of adulthood with that. Don’t ask me why.

Anyway, one of our concerns was if there were going to be a bunch of drinking in view, losers would come up and invite themselves to our party. We needed to keep out the rifraf from just wandering up. I hate people by nature, and I hate drunk people I don’t know trying to hang out with me even more. So a solution had to be found. And it was.

Ron noticed there were some poles on the side of the pool area (think of the type of poles that you put a velvet rope on) and suggested we put them around the patio to keep out the drunkards. So, once night hit, we snagged the poles and placed them around the patio. And we one step further, we added a sign.

“Private party for HorrorTalk guests only.”

Handwritten and all.

I guess it must have worked because nobody bothered us all weekend. Wait. Scratch that. We were approached once.

On Thursday night, about 12ish, this guy came up to our blockage (but did not cross it, he had to respect the sign). “Excuse me guys, sorry to bother you, but would you guys mind if we splashed around in the pool?”

We kind of looked at each other in disbelief. “No problem, go ahead.”


It’s all about the sign.